Page 96 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 2

Adjusted his cufflinks.

“We’ll see about that.”

He walked past me toward the door.

Stopped.

Looked back.

“And Victor?” His voice was almost gentle now. “Next time you want to threaten me with what you know? Remember I know just as much about you. Maybe more.”

Then, he was gone.

The front door closed with a quiet click.

I stood there in the silence of my sitting room.

Alone.

Furious.

And for the first time in thirty years, genuinely afraid of what came next.

Because Winston was right about something else too:

Amai Landry was off the reservation.

And when a demon decided to burn everything down, the only question that mattered was whether you’d be close enough to the flames to burn with it.

I poured myself another drink.

Drained it in one swallow.

And started making calls.

Because if the alliance was fracturing, I needed to make sure the Baptistes survived the collapse.

Even if it meant doing things I’d sworn I’d never do.

Even if it meant turning on the Landrys completely.

Survival wasn’t pretty.

But it was necessary.

And I’d survived worse than Winston Landry.

I stood in my sitting room for a long time after Winston left.

The bourbon glass was still in my hand.

Empty now.

I set it on the side table and walked to the window.

Watched Winston’s car disappear down the driveway.

Thirty years.