"I'm sorry, Miss Mary. I'll never speak of it again," the crimson-haired girl stammered, her face turning as pale as a sheet.
Mary gave a single, slow nod, her sharp eyes sweeping across the rest of the room to ensure the message had landed. "Showtime is in thirty minutes," she announced coldly before turning on her heel and walking out.
Relieved, the ladies hurried to put the finishing touches on their makeup, gathered their items, and began filing out of the quarters. But just as the new girl reached the threshold, a senior girl named Serena caught her by the arm. Leaning in close, Serena whispered directly into her ear, "Madam Eleanor eats the souls of those who hurt us."
The new girl froze, terror locking her joints. Serena just smiled a dark, knowing smile, patted the girl reassuringly on the back, and walked out into the corridor.
When the ladies stepped into the ballroom, they were met with a stunning, transformed Gothic theme. Thousands of black and white balloons hung suspended everywhere from the high ceilings. The dining tables had been swapped for sleek, black surfaces adorned with gleaming chrome dinnerware, and bottles of rich red wine sat waiting at every single table. The usual deep velvet seating had vanished, replaced by smooth, black leather couches. Brilliant, shiny confetti littered the floor like fallen stars.
Madam Eleanor glided into the center of the room, looking breathtaking in a charcoal floor-length dress that fell off her shoulders, elegantly showcasing her collarbone. Her long, flowing black hair was pulled back tightly, and her lips were painted in a striking black metallic lipstick.
"Welcome, ladies," Eleanor smiled, gesturing to the dramatic transformation. "We have a new theme today. Please look around and take your places while our guests arrive."
Outside, the sun began to sink below the tree line, bleeding brilliant shades of crimson, red, and deep orange across the horizon. Right on cue, the guests started pulling up the mountain. Madam Eleanor took her position, standing at the top of the grand steps ready to greet them. One by one, luxury cars arrived. The wealthy elites stepped out, laughing, kissing Madam's hand, and presenting her with lavish thank-you gifts.Once the main crowd had filtered inside, Madam turned to follow them. But before she could take a step, the aggressive roar of high-powered engines echoed through the trees.
Four heavily modified muscle cars tore up the driveway, halting to a violent stop that sprayed a cloud of dirt and gravel into the crisp night air. Madam calmly raised a hand, fanning the dust away from her face without a single hint of fear.
Six massive, imposing men stepped out of the vehicles and marched up the steps, stopping directly in front of her.
"Lady Eleanor," the leader said, bowing low.
Madam eyed him carefully. He wore a tailored black Gucci suit that barely concealed his hulking frame, with intricate tattoos winding up both of his arms. He had a harsh buzz cut, and a prominent, wicked scar tore across his eye.
Madam Eleanor’s lips curved into a dark, welcoming smile. "It is always a pleasure to see 'The House' at my establishment." She gestured toward the grand doors, lowering her head in a mock show of respect. "Please, come in."
As the six men swaggered past her into the mansion, Assistant Mary seamlessly appeared at her side.
Leaning in close, Madam Eleanor whispered out of the corner of her mouth, "Call Lord Isaac. Tell him I’ve got his package."