Chapter Thirty-Two
“Ah, I plant the seeds of creation and they germinate so well,” Degas murmured in his Madam’s ear.
“What are you playing triumphant about now?” Lexia murmured back.
The two stood at the entrance to the main chamber gazing at the festivities as if they were seeing them for the first time.
“My precious, Delila. Tonight will secure her future with us.”
“How is that?”
Degas chuckled darkly. “That little slip of a husband, who she moons about so, tonight he’ll see her defiled as she’s been for months. He’ll be defiled himself before this night’s over. Can the happy couple survive such a horror?” He began with merriment in his voice and eyes, and ended with a rapturous chill. His visage turned to stone as he rested his eyes on his working whores.
“You’re a despicable as
