At the steak knife on a nearby plate, still wet.
At the empty chair where Dominic had sat twenty-three minutes late and learned what that cost.
This was my world.
Clean. Efficient. Absolute.
The door opened quietly. Priest stepped back inside, his suit jacket catching the chandelier light. He took in the scene—the blood on the tablecloth, the knife, the empty chair—without changing expression. He’d seen worse. He’d done worse.
“You heading to the shop?” he asked.
I stood, straightening my cuffs. The movement was deliberate, controlled. I’d learned a long time ago that how you move mattered. It told people whether you were still dangerous or if the danger had passed.
“Yeah,” I said. “I need to check on the new collection before the weekend rush.”
Priest nodded. He knew the routine. The Sazerac Room was one world. The jewelry shop was another. Both belonged to me, but they operated on completely different frequencies.
The drive to the Garden District took fifteen minutes. My driver, JD, knew better than to make conversation. He just drove, smooth and efficient, while I sat in the back seat and watched the city blur past the tinted windows.
The shop sat on Magazine Street,occupying half a block of prime real estate. Floor-to-ceiling windows displayed pieces that caught the light like they were born from it—diamond solitaires, custom engagement rings, delicate gold chains, and statement pieces that cost more than most people made in a year. The storefront was all clean lines and understated elegance. No gaudy signage. Just a small brass plaque that read,Landry Designs.
I walked through the front door, and the temperature of my entire body shifted.
The cold precision of the Sazerac Room melted away. My shoulders relaxed. My jaw unclenched. The weight I carried—the weight of being The Demon—settled somewhere deeper, somewhere I could lock it away for a few hours.
“Mr. Landry!”
Vicki, my head designer, looked up from the workbench where she was setting a diamond into a platinum band. She was in her fifties, had been with me for eight years, and had the kind of eye for detail that made her invaluable. She set down her tools and came around the counter, smiling.
“How’s the new collection coming?” I asked, and I meant it. The warmth in my voice was genuine—a different kind of genuine than the cold precision of the Sazerac Room, but genuine nonetheless.
“Beautiful,” she said. “The client for the custom emerald piece is coming in tomorrow to see the final design. I think she’s going to lose her mind when she sees it.”
I smiled. Actually smiled. “Show me.”
Vicki led me to the back room where the custom pieces were kept. The emerald ring sat on a velvet display stand—a stunning piece with a deep green stone surrounded by white diamonds in a halo setting. The metalwork was intricate, delicate, perfect.
“This is exceptional,” I said, picking it up carefully. The weight of it felt right in my hand. “You outdid yourself.”
Vicki beamed. “Thank you. I was worried about the setting, but I think the platinum really brings out the color of the stone.”
“It does,” I agreed. “This is going to make her very happy.”
I set the ring back down and turned to face her. “You know what I appreciate about you, Vicki? You don’t just make jewelry. You make moments. You make memories. That’s a gift.”
She flushed, pleased. “That’s very kind of you to say, Mr. Landry.”
“It’s the truth,” I said. “Keep doing what you’re doing.”
I moved through the shop, greeting the other staff members. There was Drake, who handled the front counter and had an uncanny ability to make clients feel comfortable. There was Jennifer, who managed the books and kept everything running smoothly behind the scenes. And there was David, the apprentice, who was learning the craft and showed real promise.
To each of them, I had a word. A compliment. A joke.
“Drake, I heard you sold the Cartier piece to that couple from Uptown. Nice work closing that sale.”
“Jennifer, the quarterly numbers look solid. You’re keeping us organized. I appreciate that.”
“David, I saw the sketches you left on the design table. The detail work is getting sharper. Keep pushing yourself.”
