It didn't take Sanna long to locate the gentleman she wanted. He was impossible to miss. The man stood out in every gathering he attended, not just for his booming voice, but for the way he wore his wealth like armor.
Armen, the jeweler, was an older man with dark, tightly curled hair streaked with gray. His presence filled a room as surely as the glinting metal draped across his body. A thick gold chain weighed on his neck, nearly gleaming as brightly as the chandelier above, while each of his wrists bore enough bracelets and bangles to strain the strength of lesser men. To some, it was excessive. To Armen, it was marketing.
He was always flaunting his products, always ready to promote his brand. Loud, flamboyant, relentless, yet no one could deny his expertise. Beneath all the showmanship, Armen knew his craft better than most professionals alive.
"Mr. Armen, if you would," Sanna said smoothly, handing him the necklace with a confident smile.
