Chapter Fifteen
Ismail leaned back comfortably in his seat at the head of the long, wide table and regarded his guests. They were all clad so impeccably, and all had such exquisite manners that one could hardly believe that only last night they had been reduced to gang-raping and torturing his prized blonde slave girl. But that was often the way with people who had become too soft and comfortable. People always had darker impulses. In easy times, the rich ones found ample opportunities to sate those impulses. Now, they all sat at his table, ate his food and drank the wine that he provided for them. He could hear them discussing parties, horse racing, yachts, villas and acquaintances as if they were at home, and safe beyond any possible harm. It pleased him to make parts of his rambling es
