The brothel is only a few paces up the road, but Beronice is still gone an uncomfortably long time. Amara and Britannica wait out in the street rather than in the enclosed space of the bar. They have no doubt that their former master will turn up with his wife, their bigger worry is if he also brings an ambush. Eventually, Felix and his two women return, and Amara feels her chest tighten when she sees Victoria whose head is now covered, incongruously, with the veil of a respectable married woman. But this is not what makes Amara catch her breath. Victoria’s hands are clasped protectively over her stomach. She is pregnant. Felix sees Amara’s reaction and smiles.

“Here to offer your congratulations?” he asks, bowing to his two former whores. Britannica bares her teeth and hisses. “Still the same lovely manners, I see.”

Beronice puts her arm protectively around Victoria. “She told me what you did.” She looks accusingly between Britannica and Amara. “How you threatened to butcher her like a pair of thugs.”

“Yet here she is,” Amara says. “Alive and well.”

“Unfortunately,” Britannica adds.

“I don’t think it’s very wise for you to stand here on the street insulting my wife,” Felix remarks, kissing Victoria on the top of her head, “not if you want to return home in one piece.” Victoria says nothing but casts her eyes down to the pavement.

“Then we’ll stand in your fucking bar and insult her there instead,” Amara snaps. “There are things we need to discuss.”

Amara sees the rage flicker in Felix’s eyes, even though his smile does not waver. He flourishes his arm toward the entrance, in an exaggerated gesture of welcome. There is a pause when he and Britannica stand together at the door, neither willing to expose their unarmed back to the other, but then Felix deliberately turns to walk over the threshold, as if taunting the Briton with the target between his shoulder blades. At the sight of the neighborhood’s notorious pimp and loan shark, the two customers still lurking in the bar get up and leave. Felix nods to Gallus. “Wait outside in the doorway. We’re not to be disturbed.”

Victoria and Beronice huddle by the bar, while Amara and Britannica stand against the wall opposite, their former sisterhood irreparably broken. Felix is between them, commanding the center of the room. “Out with it, then,” he says to Amara. “This had better be worth my fucking time.”

“I’m not paying you any more money,” she replies. “You will accept this and swear not to harm my family.”

Felix laughs. “And how will you be enforcing this demand?”

Britannica draws her weapon, a long, vicious-looking dagger. “You touch Rufina, I kill you.”

“I remember what happened the day I first used a knife against you, bitch,” Felix says. Not deigning to reach for his own blade. “Do you?”