The Enemy Within 3
“Get out! All of you! Out!”
Delilah hit a tray of red grapes off the trembling hands of a female servant and sent it crashing to the floor. The liberated grapes rolled on the floor and hid in dark corners.
Servants and bodyguards scurried out with heads bowed.
“Not you Aselah. You stay.”
A blond Swede played a harp in a room decorated in blue. She played skilfully.
Two eunuchs remained motionless in their positions.
“How dare that Jew treat me like a commoner. Treated me like a whore!”
Dinner was set on a large table in the centre of the room. It had been prepared for the seduction of Samson, but unfortunately he wasn’t going to be around tonight. Delilah picked up a plate of kebabs from the table and threw it at a mirror. Pieces of broken glass flew in different directions.
“A Jew. Defied by a Jew!”
She walked among the statues of pagan deities which had incense burning before them. She stood before the statue of Isis, the Egyptian goddess.
“How could this have happened to me? I am feared and respected by friends and foe. People pay me a lot of money to bring men to their knees!” She pushed down a flower vase.
Aselah hastily followed her enraged mistress around the apartment, picking up and arranging after her.
Delilah sat down before Kali, the sex goddess of the Phoenicians.
“I tried to seduce Samson but he resisted me. How could that be? What is wrong with me?” She looked pleadingly at Kali as if expecting an answer from the dumb idol. She stood up, walked past a wall with a display of deadly weapons, threw herself on a recliner and cuddled a red pillow.
“I Seduce kings. Powerful politicians are reduced to nothing before my beauty. The rich beg to get into my bed. I am irresistible. I am Delilah!” She screamed.
“Since your beauty has failed you, perhaps you should consider other options.” Lizah Chan walked into her bedroom. She was the only one who dared. Her steps were silenced by the Persian rug which covered the entire floor. Her bodyguards remained at the door.
Delilah ended her insane rant, raised her head and looked at her friend.
Lizah was born of a Syrian father and a Chinese mother. She inherited her mom’s oriental features and her dad’s light brown skin and height. She sat beside Delilah on the recliner, her slanted eyes full of uncanny oriental wisdom.
“So you heard?” Delilah asked.
“The news is all over Gaza. It is no longer a secret that your charms could not seduce Samson the Jew. If you don’t fix this, things could go really bad.”
“Nothing can taint my reputation. It took me several years to build this. No one can take it away from me.” Delilah stood up.
“You are wrong my friend. If you don’t do some damage control now, your business of seduction could become a thing of the past. Your reputation will be irreparably damaged. Your rich clients will dump you. You will go broke. You may end up standing on street corners soliciting clients.”
“Surely you must be kidding,” Delilah said.
“Do you see me laughing?” Lizah asked. Continue reading