Roy pushed aside the heavy silk curtain and stepped into the dimly lit office that smelled of lavender oils and polished wood.
The space was large, partitioned by more screens that hinted at hidden massage alcoves, shelves lined with vials of scented lotions glinting in the lantern light.
As Roy stepped toward the curtain leading to the owner's office, someone brushed past him from the other side.
A tall, lanky man staggered out, shoulders slumped, face pale.
He stopped when he saw Roy and gave a dry, tired laugh."Good luck," he said. "That woman is a demon."
"I heard that!" a silky voice snapped from behind the curtain, "Don't show your ugly face here again!"
"Eeek!"
The guy yelped, cold sweat breaking on his brow as he bolted like a spooked rabbit. Roy blinked—ugly? The dude wasn't half bad.
Roy watched him go, blinking.
"…That guy wasn't even ugly," he muttered.
But compared to Roy's chiseled jaw, tousled dark hair, and those piercing emerald eyes. Yeah, he paled.
Still, for some reason, Roy felt a chill crawl up his spine.
'Okay,' he told himself, 'maybe looks won't save me here.'
He took a breath and straightened his posture.
"Calm down," he whispered. "You've faced worse."
He strode forward, parting the curtain fully, and froze.
When Vivian had mentioned Madam Penelope, Roy had subconsciously imagined an older, strict woman, maybe around Vivian's age.
What he saw instead completely shattered that image. Penelope looked young. Very young. She looked like she was around his age, maybe twenty or twenty-two at most.
For a split second, the surprise registered. Then it was completely drowned out by nothing other than her beauty.
She was… stunning.
Penelope's long purple hair cascaded in loose waves down to her waist, framing a face so delicate it rivaled his mother's ethereal beauty. But it looked fresher and sharper, like a blade honed to perfection.
She had ocean-blue eyes that sparkled like sapphires under long lashes, and the way her brow furrowed in contempt as she spotted the new examinee.
Roy had frozen mid-step, and he didn't even seem to realise. He continued staring and appreciating her killer looks. Her full lips pursed, adding a sultry edge to her frown. And her body... fuck, it was a masterpiece of voluptuous sin.
She had an hourglass figure that would have you drowning in the absurdity of her curves: a narrow waist flaring into hips that supported a massive, round ass, the kind that jiggled with the simplest and smallest of movements.
Her E-cup tits strained against a simple crop top with no sleeves. The fabric was thin enough, and since it was a bit wet, it was almost transparent to the point of hinting at the dark areolas beneath. Honestly, her cleavage looked like it was deep enough to drown your face in.
'I wouldn't mind being smothered and dying in those mounds!'
Of course, her delicate shoulders and collarbone were bare, and the top riding up just enough to tease the soft undercurve of those heavy globes.
Down below, she wore tight black shorts that clung to her lower body like a second layer of skin, molding to her thick thighs and ass and leaving nothing to the imagination.
Her V-shaped underwear was imprinted on both her ass cheeks, and the seams pressed into her flesh, forming deep ridges.
As she shifted one of her legs to stand straight, Roy could see that the shorts were so tight that he could see the outline of her pussy imprinted right below her pelvis.
She stood in front of a low desk with her arms crossed and a confident posture.
Her face was delicate and refined, the kind of beauty that felt unreal up close. Even her slight frown carried an odd charm.
She had deep blue eyes that looked like polished gemstones, and of course, they instantly locked onto Roy like a predator.
And she did not look pleased.
Roy swallowed.
'Wow,' his brain supplied unhelpfully.
Penelope frowned deeper when she noticed that he was gawking at her. She was used to this reaction. Men froze whenever they saw her rack all the time.
"If you're just going to stand there and stare," she said coolly, "get out."
Roy jolted back to reality.
'Right. She probably chased the last guy out for less.'
He almost apologized. Almost.
Then something clicked.
Why was he shrinking? Why was he suddenly trying to please someone who had already decided to intimidate him?
Roy straightened, and he smiled.
"I couldn't help it," he said honestly. "You're beautiful." He said cheekily.
The room went dead silent.
Behind Penelope, another woman—who Roy hadn't noticed until now—looked up sharply.
She had been lying naked, face down on a massage table.
A clean white towel covered her upper body, and another draped neatly over her lower half. Only her back, shoulders, and the back of her neck were exposed, skin faintly steaming from the warmth of the room.
The table itself was positioned slightly behind Penelope's desk, angled just enough that Irene could see the entrance if she lifted her head.
'Is this man insane?' she thought.
Irene had already prepared herself for shouting, maybe violence, and possibly blood. That was just how her madam was; she would not tolerate such nonsense.
Instead… nothing happened.
Penelope didn't speak for a good five seconds. She just stood there.
Another two seconds passed.
Roy felt the pressure building, even though he kept that infuriating grin on his face. His muscles slowly tensed as he felt that something was wrong.
Behind Penelope, Irene's eyes drifted back to him.
'…He is kind of handsome,' she admitted reluctantly. Very handsome.
She had worked here for years and seen countless men. Good-looking ones, charming ones, arrogant ones. But this one?
She couldn't remember the last time someone like this had walked in. Then Penelope finally turned around.
Irene's breath caught.
Penelope—stoic, sharp-tongued, terrifying Penelope—was blushing.
Irene's world tilted.
'…What?'
She stared in shock, convinced she was hallucinating. Penelope scowled, clearly aware of it, and snapped, "What are you both looking at?!"
Roy's grin widened just a little. 'Interesting,' he thought. 'Very interesting indeed.'