Interest

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

They called it the Gentlemen's Club, the biggest open secret in London. It was a rather nondescript building not far from the Thames River, freshly painted with a manicured short front lawn of only a few feet behind a wrought iron fence. Just inside the front door stood a brawny male guard and a pretty coat checker behind a mahogany counter, politely and demurely accepting the cover charge that bought men a few hours of luxury within.

The next door would be daintily opened to reveal the spacious club beyond-velvet cushions and chairs around low, small tables, a high class bar, a stage for her girls to dance and sing upon and many an intimate corner for serious discussion and conversation. In the late hours of the night, it made for a lively gentleman's club.

The bordello's clientele included many a prestigious, powerful judge, nobles, sailors flush with cash from the Americas-men who were apt to enjoy what the club had to offer.

And then, of course, there was the young madame.

At twenty years old, the petite Italian beauty ran the extremely successful business with a sharp mind for numbers. She was not on the menu-indeed, little was seen of her at all save for the occasional dismissal of a rowdy gentleman or a trip into town. She dressed conservatively and looked more like a governess than a madame, her dark colored, respectable high collared dresses usually trimmed in black lace, her dark hair pinned into a bun behind her head. She was young and she was attractive, a petite beauty with olive skin and almond shaped, dark brown eyes fringed in black lashes. Her full lips and slender waist, the tantalizing hinted at curves were dreamed about by many-but Marie did not take clients, and so she was a highly sought after prize.

She kept to her office on the second floor mezzanine, at the top of a grand staircase lined with red velvet leading down into the grand entertaining lobby. The double doors were heavy, ornate, and burnished with brass-and talked about often by many a man wishing to see what lay beyond in her chambers.

Downstairs, her diverse group of girls entertained with extreme taste and sophistication, offering many a man an ear and some company before pulling him into their individual bedrooms to ply their greatest trade. Some girls. Others never took company upstairs. The brothel was a haven of sorts for the women and girls who, otherwise-would be on the street in the dangerous world of men, whoring for any with a few coins to his name.

But as working girls under Madame Marie-they had a home, a warm bed, a choice of whom to sleep with and who to simply entertain and turn away. They were in no danger of being strangled one lonely night, no danger of dying alone and cold from some terrible disease. For whores, they lived very, very well-and were grateful and protective of the young woman who had made it possible.

And to think-the madame had arrived in the clothes on her back and little else, holding fast to a distant, near impossible dream-and a solid business plan formed in a clever mind of a woman who knew how the world worked. It had earned her the cooperation of one of London's most notorious men-and it was his coin that had funded the purchase and renovation of the the bordello, the spirits and fine furniture-everything needed to start the project.

She paid monthly and on time, always without fail and usually more than required, on a good track to being free of the loan in a few years time.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Inside the insulated office a warm fire crackled in a stone fireplace, filling the well lit room with warmth and the scent of cedar. The dancing light fell across what was mostly a dim room-save the small electric lamp on the corner of Marie's desk, a pretty little thing and one of the few extravagances she had afforded herself in her chambers.

The young madame was going through her books, small, meticulous notes made in the columns of her ledgers, pages and pages of numbers to represent the cost and profits of a thriving business. She was seated comfortably in a chair meant for someone much larger than she was, a leather wing backed chair better suited for an overweight banker than a prim little woman like Marie. Her desk was large and heavy, a solid dark stained wood with neatly organized correspondance, supplies, and account books on its surface.

The desk sat nearly in the middle back of the room, a large painting of an Italian vineyard hanging behind her on the wood paneled wall. To her left at some distance was a four poster bed, neatly made with dark purple sheets and black spun blankets, matching hangings tied back at each post. To her right against the other far wall, a dark green couch with clawed feet, somewhat at odds with the rest of the room.

It was a large space, this office bedroom. Lonely and not as lavish as the areas downstairs, but still furnished with quality items.

She had her usual school marm bun, the dark curls contained at the nape of her neck. She was wearing her dark purple, high collared dress with the black buttons down the back, the complimenting black lace. Her usual black ankle boots, laced neatly, dangled a few inches off the floor.

Through the doors she could hear the muted, muffled piano music down below-Cadence again, by the sounds of it. Otherwise, no noise at all save the faint scratching of her fountain pen and the occasional murmur of sums.

 

[FireyIce]

Sir William Deveraux had a short drive from his downtown office to just about anywhere in the city. In his line of work, it had to be centrally located from where his business dealings, current and future ones, would exist. Normally, he would have at least a small entourage of security to escort him places. Though, on this early morning, he had decided to forgo such a pleasantry. The fact that he had heard the news itself, several days later from a secondary source, didn’t sit well with him.

From a former member of the British military, he worked in his youth as someone who started out doing intelligence work. Now, at 40, he was a well-decorated and respected veteran who had turned into a loan shark. It was somewhat of an enigma since he was a public figure, that he would have pursued this line of work at all.

As he pulled into the spot labeled “Sir Deveraux” he got out and put his coat on. Though in his youth he despised the archaic system, his view shifted after his awards and decorations in the military placed him into Knighthood and prominence. The treatment was a lot better knowing that people knew that he was not someone to be trifled with. He adjusted his blonde hair as he began to make his strides to the front door as the warm air and sun radiated on parts of his exposed skin.

Once the door was opened, he noticed the bouncer and the coat checker. Before they could even say a word, he held his hand up, signaling for them to not say anything. The only thing that had to be done was to wait for the door to be opened. Once it was, the path to the stairs was clear and in view.

While William made his way to the stairs, he took a moment to reflect on what the last nine months had been worth here. Where there was once a dingy, semi-run-down building, it had flourished quite well. The place had been a good investment for his business to expand; the location had almost paid for itself alone with the individuals that normally wouldn’t get to be somewhere such as this. Over half a million pounds had been invested, from the purchasing of the property, to the restoration. Another quarter million to fund the first few months of operations, and he was looking at how it was all coming together.

The top of the stairs led to a hallway with many rooms on each side. The rooms were elegant, no doubt, as he saw them spring to life from nothing. There was one room that he cared about right now, and that one was at the end with the double doors. As he walked in, he saw Marie sitting down at her desk.

He walked over to the desk, his blue eyes looking at her. There were a lot of questions that he had on his mind, though he wanted to make sure he was going to be rational with this conversation. “Good morning, Marie,” He said calmly as he stood in front of the desk. Though others would refer to him as Madame, he had not made the decision that he wouldn’t, nor would he require her to call him Sir as to show that they were viewed as equals in this partnership. “Before you ask, no, we didn’t have a meeting scheduled for today. And no, your staff didn’t know I was arriving until it was too late.” He looked around at the room, noting the small bar near the couch. He walked over and looked at what there was. He decided on some scotch and poured himself a glass. William took a sip as he walked back over towards her.

“We have been in business for what, nine months now?” The question was rhetorical. They both knew the answer. “And I usually like the news I get from here. The feedback, the experiences… The funds,” William added before taking another sip. “So, you can imagine my surprise when I found out that some of our clients didn’t want to be doing business here anymore. Something about a fight? Altercation? I would like to know why, at the very least, my police, that I pay, weren’t called in to take care of the problem. Instead I find out from others, not even you, that I’ll be losing a pretty penny due to these ramifications since it’s hurting some of my other businesses and besmirching my name.”

Before Marie could answer William, added, “Am I a bad person to work for? Are you afraid to pick up the phone and call me to let me know there has been an issue?” He asked one final question before taking another sip, “Are you trying to bite the hand that feeds you?”

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

The large doors parted and Marie glanced up, expecting to see either a shy young woman or an older, mature one with a brisk update-instead she was met with the esteemed, feared William Deveraux.

Her full lips pressed together and she returned to her figures, somewhat displeased. There had not been an appointment. What was worse-he had arrived during business hours. From 6:30pm to 5am the brothel was open and in business, and Marie needed to be available should something...unpleasant come up, or one of her girls have a question about the day to day duties.

She had also been up since eleven am-it may have been morning for her girls, but she was an early riser, for a night owl.

She continued to write, lips pursing slightly at his acknowledgement of there being no appointment and no warning of his arrival. When he moved for the bar her eyes flicked to him in mild disapproval. There was very little there, and what was there was mostly for the benefit of her matron Molly during their end of the night debriefings.

“We have been in business for what, nine months now?”

The question was rhetorical, and Marie continued with her figures in silence. If he wished to interrupt her work to talk to himself, she refused to be an enraptured audience.

“So, you can imagine my surprise when I found out that some of our clients didn’t want to be doing business here anymore."

This was something of news to her. Marie paused and then continued her delicate, spidery notations for two more quick columns.

“Are you trying to bite the hand that feeds you?”

Now her dark eyes flashed with a bit of...something, but it was brief and quickly reined in in a blink of those fringed lashes as her inscrutable eyes moved back up along the page, double checking her entries.

"If you have a point, Mr. Deveraux, I should like that you get on with it." It was a factual, emotionless statement, one that revealed neither her displeasure nor any trace of annoyance-just was. Always very cold and yet dismissively polite, she was neither rattled by his question nor riled up by his rhetorical musings.

" Policemen showing up, even -your- policemen, will hardly keep our clientele in their relaxed, generously paying state. This isn't a brawlhouse, nor is it ever treated like one." She continued simply, her dark eyes casting a glance to his blue ones. There was no chair on the other side of her desk. This was an intentional oversight.

Her eyes returned to the book of figures.

" Reggie the doorman is more than a match for the rare, very rare, disruptive patron. As-" She at last returned her quill to its poT and closed her book of figures, sliding it away to fold her dainty hands primly on the desk's surface. "Am I."

Her dark eyes are deep and inscrutable as they gazed back at him, expression impassive, neutral.

"You have not -previously- wished to micromanage the Gentleman's Club." She noted. "And men don't willingly cease business here. Their wives find out and make a fuss, or they broke what very few rules are in place. Even here, where every whim can be catered to-there are restrictions."

She rose to her feet, a considering pause. She was a small thing, this madame. Even in those little ankle boots she was hardly a breath over five feet tall. Perhaps a hundred pounds, soaking wet. But she had presence. There was no denying that.

"...is this about Mister..." She retrieved a small black book from her top right drawer, turned a few pages. "...Samson?" Her eyes snapped up. "He struck one of my girls. He and his two 'pals' were politely asked to leave." There is a slight, defiant set to her jaw that is telling. "They are no longer welcome here. Surely you are not concerned over the coin of three men? We have a city full of them."

They had been thrown out. She had indeed issued the demand they leave, the young Melissa cowering behind her-and he had had the nerve to tell her her charge had deserved it.

The Italian woman had slapped him full across the face. Reggie had removed him, and she had hauled the other two out by their ears. The night had nearly been ruined-but Cadence had been able to smooth things over with another beautifully played piece, and the rest of the night's patrons had remained.

Melissa had been stolen away upstairs for a hot cup of chocolate and many a soothing word from her patron.

 

[FireyIce]

William watched as Marie stood. He was aware that she wouldn’t like the last question. He leaned his body against the solid oak desk as he listened to her rebuttal. One of the advantages of meeting her like this, being that he was able to see her in person, something there would be no doubt a lot of the patrons would have killed for, is that he had to look down at her. This allowed his eyes to sometimes look a bit lower than he would admit to her.

“Reggie is one of the best people that I have that I assigned to work here. Thank you for noticing the work that he does,” William stated before getting ready to tend to his more eloquent response to her reasoning. He raised the glass of scotch back up to his lips and took another sip as he watched her look over the previous entries.

“As far as your reasoning,” William stated, “This is why I decided to stop by: to get your side of the story. I already know Mr. Samson’s, though his father.” He started to push his way back from the desk and began to walk around it towards Marie. “Before, I didn’t need to worry about the Gentleman’s Club, but now,” He reached his hand onto the book. William moved the book closer as he lowered his head onto her shoulder. “While this place has money going in the positives, I have companies, like the docks, having my money going in the negatives.”

“You do remember the docks, right?” He asked as he was building up to his next point. “The same docks where my people found you, where I got to meet you, and see your ambition. Right now, I have an impacted dock with impacted workers. As such,” William stood and walked back around, “I’ll need to raise your interest by 10%. You should know how simple business concepts like this works. And, I’ll need your girls to be more willing to invest more in our foreign visitors. While there are loose lips on your girls, they have loose lips as well that I would like to know what they know.” The idea of extorting intelligence from foreigners was something that he would be happy to use for various reasons. “I would love to have more books like the one you had when you arrived that had important clients and details about them. Don’t worry, your collateral is still safe,” He added to Marie, indicating that he still had her book tucked tight away.

William started to head back to the bar to pour some more scotch. He noticed the stern look in Marie’s eyes. Though he wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or what he was saying. “I’ll make sure that Mr. Samson’s son won’t be bothering, or retaliating in any way possible, to you or anyone else. I hope that you find this a satisfactory arrangement for the time being?”

As he walked back towards Marie, eyeing her, he took advantage of the fact that she was still standing and decided to sit down in her chair.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

"Reggie may have been one of yours, but he works for -me-. It's my portion of profits that pay his wage. He's here because I want him to be." Was the big man a spy for William? Marie had not previously considered this. The big brute of a man was a bit simple, but surprisingly gentle in nature-though the scars across his knuckles told anyone he had had seen his share of fights. She trusted him to work alongside her girls. She trusted him not to be a problem.

She hoped she needn't look elsewhere.

"I already know Mr. Samson, through his father.”

So this was about the lout they'd tossed. Marie said nothing but looked a little wary as he moved around the desk-she stepped away neatly, a little ruffled he had rounded the desk, invaded her space. He'd see an angry flush of color at the condescending mention of the docks, her impassive mask slipping to reveal some of her ire-before those dark eyes flared wide in shock, lips parting.

"Ten percent!?" She sputtered, gobsmacked. This time she followed him to the bar, small taps of her ankle boots. "That's robbery Mr. Deveraux." Her skirts swished when she stopped short just to his left, watching him pour another drink. "Mr. Samson already won't be bothering us-" He was walking away from her, back to the desk-where he sat down in her chair!

Marie looked incensed. "Mister Deveraux, the son of this man giving you trouble -struck- one of my girls. We can't have that. I -won't- have that. It's poor business besides-his ruckus nearly cleared the entire lobby."

Small clicks as she followed him back, flipping her accounting book open. She's more lovely like this-determined and somewhat angry, her normally chilly air and impassive mask gone, her face and movements alive with emotion.

"And confidentiality is a very big factor in this business, the ability to relax-do you think any blue blood-" She remembered he was somewhat of a blue blood but continued on regardless. "-would set foot in here otherwise? I am making you money-" Her irritation dipped and she was negotiating, trying to reason with him. "-and have kept to our original agreement-leave what is mine to me. The senior Samson has already proven himself an unreliable partner-while I continue to make coins spin, and have only acted in the brothel's best interests."

She gestured to the accounting book, a slight furrow to her brow and a frown. "Else I might look for someone to buy you out, sir."

 

[FireyIce]

William listened to Marie as she made her points, and views, known. Once he heard her mention that he was a blue blood, he lifted a brow, an attempt to make sure he was paying attention to her. He leaned back in the chair and put his feet on the solid desk. Intentionally, he took a slow, long sip of his drink before setting it down.

“A buyout, you say? Hmm…,” He said as he rubbed his chin, acting as if there was something to contemplate. “And how much, Marie, do you think you would have to pay to buy me out? I have a lot of places and a lot of friends in high places that you simply cannot afford. Especially when I have the notary to be able to stop by and visit the royal family without any advanced warning.”

He could see the fury in her eyes as he gave her a smug look. “Seven percent and your girls get information for me. Then, in a few weeks, maybe months, I’ll have everything back to normal and I’ll give you a bit of a discount from what our current agreement is,” William said as a counter-offer hoping that she would take it.

There was a slight thud as he put his feet back down from the table and sat up straight. He placed his hand in his coat pocket and took out a fairly large coin. “This coin has a rather unique mark on it. You can see,” He said as he turned it over, “There is an unnatural pattern in it. You see, a sniper tried to shoot me. The round went through my gear, clothing and finally stopped after hitting this coin.” He got up and started to stretch out a little bit. “The sniper did his job. He calculated every variable from my movement, the wind, elevation, everything that he could see. It was just what he couldn’t see that lead to his demise.” He looked sternly at Marie, “And it was his demise.”

As he took another sip he thought briefly of what to add. “I do know you have the best interest of both of us, and your girls, at heart. I have heard a lot of wonderful things as far as what you’ve been doing, so don’t think it hasn’t been going unnoticed,” He told her as he approached her. “Regardless, Mr. Samson won’t be a problem for you anymore, in case you were wondering. I’ll have a little chat with him in the morning.”

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“Seven percent and your girls get information for me. Then, in a few weeks, maybe months, I’ll have everything back to normal and I’ll give you a bit of a discount from what our current agreement is ."

That sounded much more reasonable. Still unfair, but it was presented more favorably, nearly as a helpful request rather than a punishment. Still, she thought she could get it down to five percent and no espionage.

Marie crossed her arms beneath her covered chest and might've started on exactly that-but he shifted, heavy boots falling back to the floor as he sat up and retrieved a coin from his pocket. Something about his demeanor made her feel wary-old instincts of a woman used to being mistreated by men. There was no denying who was stronger here. He had weight and height on her by far.

Marie was talented at hiding her emotions behind a mask-but less so in keeping them from her expressive dark eyes. His story unsettled her-but her expression remained, again, impassive. As always, Marie seemed able to withdraw behind walls of willful iron and steel. She uncrossed her arms and straightened her shoulders, the prim little woman in her conservative dress squaring up. She was a -madame-, not some frightened street whore.

At her size, one would think she'd be cowering and meekly agreeing with him. One would be wrong. "You would be hard pressed to replace -me-, Deveraux."

The statement was simple but also true. But just because it would be illogical to kill her didn't mean she was safe. No, Marie didn't believe in safe. Men did illogical things all the time-in lust, in hatred, in jealousy, in anger-she knew better than to believe in safe. But they were business partners. Equals. She would not be kneeling at his-or anyone else's-feet.

"Seven percent increase." She repeats after a slight narrowing of her dark eyes. "And if you want spies, I suggest you hire a spymaster. But-" She relents with a slight incline of her head. "I will let my charges know the option is there, should they wish to take you up on it. I'll pass such information onto you in sealed envelopes."

Her eyes leave his, a glance behind him to her chair, her desk, her figures. The place she'd like to be, lost in numbers and calculations, locked away from everything.

"Does that conclude our business?"

 

[FireyIce]

William was glad that they could at least agree on a number. As profitable as the Gentleman’s Club was, he knew that it would still take a bit of time before all of his books leveled out to where they were before the past few days. “Seven percent works for me,” He told her as he watched her eyes go towards her chair, her desk, “And you’ll at least offer a fifty pound incentive to anyone that gets any viable foreign intelligence that I can use. Whether they have sex or not, doesn’t matter to me. Other than that, I think we have an accord,” He added as he leaned down closer to her and gave a friendly smile with a wink.

As he looked at his pocket watch, he noted the time and thought that it was getting late enough. He would no longer engage in any responses that she would have and started to head out of the room, opening the large wooden door. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening, Marie,” William said with a slight bow before closing the door.

Though he was ready to leave, he also knew that most, if not all, of the workers were aware of the fact that he was the sole financier of their establishment. As such, he wanted to keep up appearances and greeted and talked to some of the girls that were relaxing. The last thing that he did before he left was to make sure that the bartender was going to give each girl a free drink, though he would pay for it, as he left out the front door.

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The fact that the time the Gentleman’s Club was opened was the only thing that really annoyed William. Though he understood why, he wasn’t a fan. It made doing business a bit harder, though he would manage. The rest of the night was fairly uneventful, to say the least. After having a quick dinner, William headed home and got some sleep for the next day.

It was early in the morning as William showed up at the docks. As he expected from some of the people who ventured, and relied on goods, from here, he was displeased with seeing no one working. The fact that there was a strike was highly irritating to him. His remedy, though, would be taken care of very shortly. Instead of telling them to get back to work, he felt the cool crisp air on his exposed skin as he made his way to the offices. Each step, each new sound, was going to make him get closer to the answers he wanted.

As he opened the door, he was nowhere surprised to see Mr. Samson, the father of the man that had spent the last several years overseeing all of the work on the docks. “Mr. Samson,” William said as cold as the air was, “I understand you have a quarrel with me on behalf of your son, correct?”

“It is, Sir,” The elderly man responded. “My family will not be disrespected, even by someone such as you,” The man said with a harsh tone. “It’s already bullshit that you own so much, that I should even have to walk around anywhere, that any man has to, without hurting your ‘enterprise’, is appalling.”

The fact that William already didn’t want to be here didn’t help to the testament that the attitude was severely out of line. “Be that as it may,” William began, “I worked hard to get to where I’m at. Just as you have. The only difference though,” He said as he pulled out a knife, slowly and quietly, “Is that I no longer need your services. You have cost me far too much in both time and money,” He pointed out as he looked deeply into the man’s eyes. He imagined that he was at least a decade older than William, though with his poor lifestyle habits, there was no stopping the knife from going straight into his neck.

As he watched the old man struggle to get the knife, he pushed him out of window. The long-sounding scream coming to an instant stop as the body made contact with the pavement. The pool of blood forming around it gave every indication that was needed to let him know he was dead.

William exited the offices and headed back downstairs. He looked at the body as he pulled his knife out of the man’s throat and wiped it off. “You!” He said getting the attention of someone that he thought was management, “Get his son and tell him that there’s been an accident involving his father. The rest of you,” William said as he point to everyone else, “Get back to work! Don’t think that you’re not replaceable, because you are.”

It was a few hours later when the younger Mr. Samson showed up. The conversation was quick between him and William. William had explained the impact that the young man had caused, as well as his father wanting to protest to make a point. The bullet hole in the young man’s chest was the best indication anyone could have ever seen that would let them know the conversation was over.

Both bodies were placed in a large box with a note saying “12%, 1 hour from now I'll show up”, and the courier was given the exact time to drop the delivery off at the Gentleman’s Club using the same entrance the other deliveries used. The package would be dropped off at 4:30PM and he would be there an hour later. Until then, he spent most of the day working on getting everything back up and running at the docks.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

It was a large box, different than their usual shipments-and arriving at a strange time, too. Reggie had them bring it into the cavernous, empty kitchen, waving them off distractedly as he pulled the blade from his boot and slid it between the box and top, loosening the small nails that held it shut.

"Madame Marie wasn't expecting any furniture." The waifish Christine had slipped in without him noticing. The counter girl was quiet, and perhaps that was why she'd been placed at the front door, there to prettily greet guests-and only greet guests.

Reggie grunted, popping the lid-and then let it slam closed, turning quickly to keep Christine from seeing. "Go ge' Miss Marie- and hurry!"

In a swish of skirts the young woman disappeared-and moments later the equally as young Madame appeared, Christine at her elbow. Her steps were brisk and her delicate ankle boots clicked on the wooden floorboards, the skirts of her conservative dress caught up in her right hand. He waved Christine away and hesitated as Marie's eyes narrowed a fraction on the box.

"I dun' know if..."

"Reggie, I'm a Madame not a schoolgirl-" She stepped up, one of her dainty hands on the lid-but he lifted it despite his reservations, giving the grisly scene another view-and snapping his head back to her when she cursed in Italian and-something he had never seen her do-crossed herself, staggering back from the box.

"Merciful Mary, who, what-" Her dark eyes widened even further. "Devereax."

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When William arrived at the brothel, his money was waiting for him. There was no accompanying note-and no madame. The coat check girl seemed nervous and more than a little fearful. Reggie was the one who had the money-and as usual, he made no judgment or comment on William's actions.

"Miss Marie stepped out, sir." He said with a bow of his head. Reggie was rough around the edges in appearance-but he was a solid, faithful man and had been for a long time.

But indeed-the Italian madame was nowhere to be found.

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Marie has seen a murder victim before-in fact, she saw a man murdered. Carlo was a brute and thug. He'd had no reservations about killing and she had known that-but seeing it had been another matter.

Samson had struck one of her girls. But had he deserved to die for it? Him or his father? She thought about the coin, the threat. Business was booming, but what if stymied? When his employees and business partners became nuisances rather than boons, did he always resort to murder?

He had gone back on their negotiated price. She could not trust him to lift the higher interest rate in some weeks or months as he had promised-nor could she trust that he wouldn't turn a knife or gun on her. Men like him....men like Carlo...no act was too low.

Dressed in a dark burgandy dress accented with black lace and buttons, she wore black gloves on her dainty hands and a fashionable but practical matching hat on her head, dark curls contained to a governess' bun as usual. Despite the conservative nature of her attire, she still cut a sharp, arresting figure-the fitted bodice with the row of black buttons on her toned back, the smocked top and high collar, a cameo pendant pinned at the hollow of her throat-and always those little ankle boots, lightly clicking as she walked.

She'd been to several emergency meetings with her own contacts and clients today. There were some promising leads but nothing definite-and nothing enough. She would continue to work at it. She had to get out from under him before he decided to do her in too. Or lay more draconian laws on her and her business.

 

[FireyIce]

There was no doubt that William had an idea of what to expect as he approached the club. As he had done so many times before, he cared more for the hiding of his obscurity by not having several individuals accompany him. The light dusk, the setting of the sun, was a sight he always liked to see during this time of day. A nice, long fresh breath of air near the water usually helped him relax to a degree. Once he opened the front door, he saw Reggie. The envelope, mixed with the showing of fear on his face, as well as the girl who checked in coats, said everything.

“I understand,” Devereaux simply stated. “Don’t worry, I know you are just doing your job. As are you, dear.” He took the envelope and opened it up, seeing that the amount was paid with the appropriate interest. Outside of his special privilege with owning the place, he wanted to promote a piece of mind. William took off his coat and had Reggie check every pocket. He held the envelope as he watched Reggie pull out his pistol and his knife. “Set them aside in a safe location, as well as my payment,” Devereaux gave him a strong gaze in his eyes.

Once that was done, he handed the coat to the girl and showed that his pockets, less his keys, were empty. “I will be in her room waiting for her. Let’s keep this fun and not tell her,” He said with a slight grin as he made his way into the main room. There was the normal appearance of socializing with the workers and some of the “guests” that were there.

As he made his way up the stairs, he found himself at his most promising doors. He pushed them opened and looked around, not really touching anything. There weren’t any visible signs that she had packed up and jumped town. Though he wouldn’t be able to really tell as he remembered she had next to nothing when he found her. He slowly walked around the room, looking at it as if it were his first time being here. He took a book off the shelf. “Jane Eyre,” He said to himself as he sat down at her desk and began to read. The good thing, he thought to himself, was that he could go wherever at his own content and not worry about being late.

As he read the book, he studied it, letting it envelop into him as he waited for his most promising employee to return. He knew that she would. Whether she was willing to talk or not, that was simply a different story.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Reggie nodded mutely, looking somewhat relieved. "As you like sir."

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

It was eight o clock when Marie returned, in no mood to converse with her girls as to how the night was going. She was distracted enough not to notice the few anxious gazes that followed her up the stairs.

And then she opened the door, and found she had a guest.

Marie froze. The evidence of his brutality was long gone-though she had briefly, very briefly thought of going to the police-but the image had seared into her brain, a stark warning of what business dealings with him could mean.

"Mr. Deveraux. I see you've extended the length of your appointment." She hadn't expected him to remain hours past the original time. She also did not want to be alone with him, not in the least.

Her expression formed that impassive mask as the esteemed woman stepped into her own bedroom office, closing the doors behind her. She'd call for Reggie, but the doorman hadn't even the courage to warn her, she doubted he would protect her.

He was William's man after all, more than he was hers. She was disappointed but knew better than to feel hurt.

She would fire him tomorrow.

"Enjoying my book? I haven't the time to even look at it, myself." She turned her attention to her delicate hands, removing the dainty black gloves one at a time, then her hat. Small clicks from those ankle boots as she moved to set the small bundle on the bed.

She forces herself to look at him. He was dangerous. More dangerous than she had realized, perhaps even unstable. He can't run this bordello without her, but maybe he thought he could.

Maybe he was here to murder her, too.

"...why are you here? I'm clearly forced to abide by your terms, paid your interest." She is keeping her voice carefully level, her hands clasped just behind her back. She would not let him cow her. She would not act afraid. She was a Madame, now.

 

[FireyIce]

William looked up at her as she came into the room. He saw the look at her as she seemed surprised, as he had expected. There was no doubt that if the roles were switched, he would’ve felt the same way. “I figured you wouldn’t mind if I stayed and had a little talk with you. Somewhat more civilized than the package that was sent to you,” He mentioned as he looked at the page he was on.

As he set the book down, he thought for a moment. He watched as she took off her gloves and hat and set them down on the bed. “It is a good book, very well done. You should make some time to read it,” William suggested in a calm voice.

“I was a bit surprised,” William began to say as he sat up in the chair, “I expected you to be gone. Clear your head, or what-have-you. Though the fact that you were gone for so long…” He paused for a moment before continuing, “I didn’t expect.”

The mention of her being forced to abide by his terms piqued his interest. He didn’t try to hide his expression at all. When he looked at her he saw her stand her ground, doing her best to hide her fear. He had realized, at that moment, that he had reassured to himself that he made the right choice in hiring her all that time ago. “As you know,” William said as he finally stood up, “Business is a fickle thing. I have thought, while waiting and reading, that perhaps my approach may have seemed too brutish. I hope that wasn’t the case. My weapons are locked away downstairs with everyone’s stuff, as a common guest, as you will.” The mention of feeling like he was lower than he cared to be sent a small chill down his spine.

“I did get the feeling that you were not too pleased with the new rate. And,” He continued as he walked over to pour himself a small drink, “I thought about it and realized that I may have been a tad out of line with the initial offer of new terms. The last thing that I would want is for us to have a strained relationship. That wouldn’t help either of us, would it?” He asked rhetorically. “I’m willing to go down to eight percent and not force your girls to pry too much to get any secrets. How does that sound?” William inquired as he took a drink. There was the thought that she would wonder why the change of heart.

“Contrary to what you saw earlier, I do not enjoy inflicting pain when it could have been avoided altogether. There was quite a bit of bad blood between us already, and I did hope that a more reasonable agreement would’ve been reached.” He set the glass back down next to the bottle. “I want to make sure that we are on the same page,” William stated as he leaned up against the wall, giving her some more space.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Marie did not respond to his commentary about her whereabouts or her book. She worked hard, very hard, doing the job of two, maybe three people. She didn't have a lot of free time. And she wasn't going to abide by a curfew if she could help it. He didn't own her. No one owns her, not anymore.

But his continued words mystified her utterly. He had agreed to seven percent yesterday, then waltzed out of her office and murdered two men in cold blood, having shipped them to her establishment with a demand for 12 percent.

Now he pretended to be contrite, offering a reasonable 8 percent-never mind the entire hike was utterly unfair in the first place-he was clearly out of his mind. Else she might be.

One percentage point! One, and two men were dead, never mind his quarrel with them! Marie's confusion was apparent in her eyes if not her face, which remained impassive as he spoke. Finally, he leaned against the wall, looking for all the world like this peace offering were real.

Marie is quiet for several heartbeats. One. Two. Thre- "Is this a test?"

She's watching him as one does with anything dangerous. A fire that must be kept carefully, lest it burn down the house it heats. Her voice had sounded uncharacteristically small, those soft lips parted- but then they close and her voice strengthened. "Yesterday we reached an agreement. Today you shipped dead men to my door. Tomorrow it might be my body stuffed in a box, another note going back on your word." She moved to her desk, retrieving the one he had attached and holding it up, staring at him.

"There is nothing stopping you from breaking your word a second time, Mr. Deverux." She said with a bit of heat. There was nothing she could do, right now. She had to agree to whatever price he demanded, or potentially face dire consequences. It must be a test. She can't imagine what for, but Marie knows the cruelty of men, and she knows also there didn't need to be a reason for it-they did as they did, often without a care to those harmed.

He must be toying with her. Maybe he wanted her to insist on paying the twelve percent in a bid to save her neck? She has no idea. She's also not going to beg him for anything.

He needs her to run this place. He wouldn't make nearly the coin, otherwise.

 

[FireyIce]

William watched as Marie went to her desk and retrieved that paper from earlier. He didn’t need to see it to know how it looked, or how it should look, since the addition of blood was on it. He could tell the confusion in her face with his offer changing. Yes, it had been altered several times and there was a rhyme and reason to it, just one that he didn’t want to make very observant. He had no question that she was smart. She had made this his most profitable instant business.

He walked over to the desk and sat in one of the two chairs in front of the desk as she gave her small speech. “You’re right. There is nothing stopping me from breaking my word a second time. Especially,” He said as he cracked his neck, “Since I’ve already done it. This is how I know I’ve made the right choice,” He added as he sat upright.

“I could charge a hundred times more and you would pay that. The twelve percent was to see if you would, and you did. So, yes, in a way, it was a test. A harsh test, but one nonetheless.” He crossed his leg as he looked at her, trying to gauge what she was thinking. “The thing with the Solomon’s is that they were trying to hinder my business at the docks, particularly by taking my wages. There have been issues with them in the past where they tried to promote strikes. As unfortunate as it was,” He took a breath and tried to make it sound not as cold as it was going to come across, “It allowed a justification if you will, with tampering with my businesses.”

William looked at Marie as he carefully chose his next words. “I did talk to one of my financial advisors before coming over, and showing a slight increase, up to eight percent, will help with getting things back on track in a shorter time. If the docks slow down, prices of goods go up and my businesses - your business as well - takes a hit that affects even the wealthy.” There was a lot of truth to what he was saying; he was just hoping that Marie would understand.

“I heard about your reaction and that’s the kind of person that I need. Someone who can react, though not immediately seek revenge. What you did in the time you left to when you came back, I personally don’t care,” William said with a shrug. “But you came back and you have suspicion as you should. I admire that. Please, feel free to speak freely to me and see if there’s anything that I can help clear up,” He offered in a pleasant tone.

His body was feeling tired as he had expected, though he was willing to answer questions in full transparency. He was just hoping that there weren’t that many to answer.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

If he wasn’t here to kill her, if he was truly on some madman’s bent to establish how they would do business, Marie decided to go for broke.

“Ten percent. I will pay ten percent in interest for the life of the loan.” She primly folded her hands on her desk, speaking to him, as always, as an equal. The little Italian woman certainly did not lack for bravery. “And in return, you will leave this business to me. I have earned good profits so far with autonomy. You must allow me to do as I need to to protect my girls and...and not have to worry about you taking it yet further and mailing the results to this sa-” She paused. She had nearly called it ‘safe’. He would laugh at that, she was sure. But that’s what it was. Her girls were safe here. She could protect them.

She would protect all of them.

“...place.” She settled back in the overly large chair that so dwarfed her, her hands twisting in her skirt now that they were out of his view. “You cannot deny that I have obtained very good, very profitable results for us both, previously. Allow me to continue doing so with a...mostly clear conscience.”

 

[FireyIce]

William sat in preparation to see what Marie would say in response. When he heard that she was going to increase it, there was no doubt that it wasn’t the only thing to be increased. His eyebrow increased as well as he found out how much she wanted to have the “kid’s gloves” off that he had on her. And for the life of the loan? That was going to be a while.

“Very well, Marie,” He began to say as he leaned in a bit closer. “I know you’ve wanted to be considered fully autonomous for a while now. Well, I’m going to let you have that chance. I’ll agree,” He said plainly and bluntly. He did notice the small stutter that she had as she spoke for one word. So there was some fear in this woman after all, he thought to himself. He was curious as to how far she would allow herself to take a stand.

He sat back a little bit and looked at her. To say that there weren’t risks would be an understatement. There were risks, and they were high. Though he was willing to agree, he wanted to make sure she knew what it was that she would be agreeing to. “As of tomorrow, you will be fully autonomous and you will pay ten percent on the first and fifteenth of every month. It will be to my collector who will stop by for that reason and that reason alone,” He informed her before taking a breath. “Also, you will have a suitable replacement for Reggie by then end of next week. Protection from my police will end and the ones I pay can still come in and visit as patrons. Unless they are asked,” William said as he looked at her, “They will not interfere. At all.”

William stood up as he finished speaking. “I will allow you to continue to use my company for your food and spirits, and at the current rate. I’m sure you’ll find any new vendor will have higher prices. As for my visits, I’ll only show up here for meetings and I’ll try to let you have a days notice at the least.” He made a mental checklist of everything he thought of before asking, “Is there anything else you think you need to be free from my shackles, aside from your loan?”

There was no recollection in his short or long-term memory that he could recall when someone wanted this much from him at such an early stage. Not even a year, he thought to himself. Her points were valid and he was very pleased with how much she had made him. The thought of him having meetings here was fairly slim. Most people liked the fact that they could be somewhere private. That would be a small downside, he thought to himself as he did enjoy coming here every once in a while.