Madam Eleanor glided elegantly through the ballroom, maintaining her perfect poise as she conversed with the elite guests. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a sudden disturbance near the VIP lounge. An oil tycoon and his associates were aggressively gesturing and shouting, furious about a spill on his pristine robes. One of Eleanor's ladies was on her knees, desperately trying to clean the stain while apologizing profusely.
Sensing the thick wave of anger radiating from the men, Madam Eleanor moved swiftly across the room, her charcoal gown brushing the confetti-strewn floor. "Excuse me, is there a problem here?" she asked, her voice dangerously calm.
Two of the men immediately snapped back, muttering heated insults in Arabic, assuming she wouldn't understand.
Madam Eleanor’s gaze turned to ice. "She is not a useless whore," she commanded fluently in their native tongue, staring down the two men with absolute authority.
Both men froze in sheer terror, their faces draining of color. They hadn't realized she spoke their language—and worse, they suddenly remembered exactly whose house they were standing in and what she was truly capable of.
"Madam Eleanor... we meant no disrespect," the lead tycoon stammered, quickly bowing his head in deep submission.
"Great. I'm glad that is cleared up," Eleanor smiled beautifully, though her eyes remained dead. "Enjoy the rest of your night, gentlemen."Meanwhile, down the dim hallway, Assistant Mary led Lord Isaac to the entrance of the deluxe suite. "They are inside, sir," she whispered coldly. Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked away.
Lord Isaac turned the handle, pushed the heavy black wooden door open, and stepped inside.The scene was pure chaos. The potent drug Eleanor had slipped into the wine had completely taken hold. All six of the massive guards were either entirely passed out or slumping against the leather couches, desperately trying to fight off the heavy paralysis.
Lord Isaac marched straight past the groggy guards, his boots thudding against the floor until he stood over The House. He looked down at the hulking leader, his expression a mask of stone. "We meet again," Isaac said calmly.
The House struggled to lift his heavy head. His vision blurred and faded, but he recognized the man standing over him. He raised a shaky, trembling finger, pointing it right at Isaac's face. "Lord Isaac... you come to collect your brother's bones?" he laughed, a raspy, sickening chuckle.Leaning back into the cushions, his eyes rolling back from the drug, the gangster sneered. "Well... here you go."
With a weak, trembling hand, The House pulled back the collar of his custom-tailored Gucci shirt. Resting against his chest was a gruesome necklace made of polished human bones. The House flashed a wicked, gold-toothed smile. "You like?"
An absolute, burning blood rage exploded inside Lord Isaac. Fuming, he lunged forward and grabbed the gangster by the throat of his shirt, violently hoisting his heavy frame off the couch.
"You'll pay for what you did!" Isaac roared.
With one brutal motion, Isaac ripped the bone necklace off the man's neck. In the next heartbeat, his hand flashed down, drawing a razor-sharp dagger. With a savage grunt, he thrust the blade deep into the center of the gangster's chest.
The House gasped violently, coughing up a spray of crimson blood. He clawed weakly at Isaac's arms, but the drug left him completely powerless to fight back as his life rapidly drained away.Terrified by the sudden explosion of violence, the four ladies on the couch froze for a split second before scrambling to their feet and sprinting out of the room.
As they fled into the hallway, they nearly ran right into Madam Eleanor. She was already standing in the doorway, her arms crossed, watching the slaughter with a hungry, dark intensity.
Looking past Isaac at the five remaining unconscious guards slumping over the furniture, Madam Eleanor licked her black metallic lips.
"Guess I'll take these ones," she whispered, her eyes flashing with a supernatural, predatory hunger.