Outside the room, voices drifted through the hallway in hushed tones.
"They've been at it for hours," one of the girls whispered, her voice carrying both awe and a little bit of envy.
"Hours?" another replied, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. "I heard her screaming his name at least six times. Maybe more."
A third woman, the one with cat ears and a swishing tail, snorted. "About damn time."
"Shh!" The first girl hissed, glancing nervously down the hall. "Madam Imelda will hear you."
As if summoned by the mention of her name, Imelda appeared at the end of the corridor, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor, and the women straightened, their gossip seizing immediately.
Imelda's eyes swept over them with cool authority. "Don't you all have work to do?" she said with a calm voice that attracted respect and fear from her girls. "Or would you prefer to stand here like statues while our clients go unsatisfied?"
