Chapter 427 - Madam Zenarie’s, Emporium of Fine Delicacies, Treats, and the Exotic. Ⅱ (2/2)
”Release him,” Madam Zenarie murmured earning a smug glance from Damian as he was released by the sentries. But one of them still retained his wand for the moment clearing not trusting him not to use it against them for the time being.
Damian cockily zips his trousers shut and reaches down to grab his shirt and jacket from the flower. While he dresses the slut is gently carried out in the arms of one of the sentries. ”Good riddance,” Damian arrogantly declared with a loud mocking snicker. ”She wasn't that good and could even take what I had to give. Pathetic, really.”
The remaining sentries in the room let out growls as Madam Zenarie says, ”And be assured, Mr. Mulciber, that your father will be receiving the bill later for this evening. And I can reassure you, it will be a most costly fee.”
”It's not my fault that the wench couldn't handle it!” Damian conceitedly spat out in outrage. ”And besides, she's nothing more than a common whore!”
”Be as that may be your opinion, Mr. Mulciber,” Madam Zenarie crisply said. ”Tamara was not only quite a valuable commodity, but one with that could have easily earned herself a small fortune with enough time. And my establishment is not some random lay to be had against some random alley wall, but one for connoisseurs, Mr. Mulciber. It would appear that you are not one and have rather outlandish tastes. Might I suggest the nearest alleyway instead?”
One of the sentries loudly snorts at the Madam's words and tries to cough to hide his laughter. The other sentries are much better at hiding their laughter, but a cold gleam of satisfaction can be seen in their eyes. They all liked Tamara; she was a rather good girl despite being in the business of pleasure. And she'd not earned herself the harsh treatment that she had received at his cruel, unyielding hand.
Not one to leave without the last word, Damian rudely snatches his wand back from the sentry, and says, ”My father will see to it that this pathetic place is razed to the ground. I can promise that.”
”I think not, Mr. Mulciber,” Madam Zenarie retorted with a great deal of satisfaction. ”Your father is not foolish to dare to cross the Potentate of London. You would do very well to remember this lesson, Mr. Mulciber, and it is that there are existences in this world that your father means less than nothing too.”
Grinding his teeth, Damian shoves his way past the sentries and down the hallway. He stomps his way down the stairs as Madam Zenarie sternly ordered, ”See to it that he leaves in peace. I don't want another incident adding to tonight's events.”
”With pleasure, Madam,” the sentries said as two eagerly left after him to ensure that he properly left and was helped right out the door. Oh yes, in fact, he went flying out the door and onto the cobblestoned street.
Glancing back at the bloodstained room, Madam Zenarie tiredly closes her eyes for a moment and says, ”Have the maids come and clean up this mess. I have to see to the guests.”
”Yes, Madam,” the remaining sentries said, before leaving to gather the maids.
Opening her eyes, Madam Zenarie takes a deep breath and straightens up with her head held high and her back straight like a rod. She was a businesswoman and she had a business to run. Striding confidently out, she only pauses to close the door firmly behind her, before making her way downstairs. Time waits for no one and most especially money. Because money is the most loyal mistress of them all. That is as long as one possesses her affection.