The Golden Tower

Chapter 1

Hello and thanks for reading! I am not a native English speaker, so I apologize for any mistakes. I hope there won't be too many. Have fun!
This is a fanfic written based on a fanfic (https://archiveofourown.org/works/40105011). Mammon looks and behaves differently from the original cartoon.

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Malori opened her eyes and lay there for a while, listening to the steady breathing behind her. She was in a great mood this morning, but not thanks to the efforts of the man who now had one arm around her, his nose against her neck. She listened to how she felt and finally realized what was different. For the first time in a week, she didn't have morning sickness. It was amazing how little it took to be happy, just not having to run to the bathroom right after waking up.

Carefully disentangling herself from the embrace, she stood up and walked across the dusky bedroom. She stepped over the nightie lying on the floor and pulled a new one from the closet. The cool silk slid pleasantly over her body. The thin fabric stretched, outlining her rounded belly. Soon she would need a complete closet change. Good! Let the Sin of Greed pay for that, too.

Without even turning to look at the sleeping master of the bedroom, Malori stepped into the living room. She still couldn't get used to the opulence of the place. Paintings adorned the walls, and ornate and incredibly expensive statues stood on pedestals. Opposite the large sofa hung a huge TV. Mammon's greed manifested itself in many ways. He surrounded himself with luxury and at the same time mourned every wasted soul. He craved money and fame, which caused him to stay up late into the night in the music room, composing one hit after another. Sometimes there would be muffled cursing and thuds, as if Mammon were banging his head against the door. Then it went quiet again. Music brought him everything he craved: money, fame, and adoration.

But no one was allowed in the music room. Not even Malori. Mammon was afraid someone would steal his ideas.

Last night he came back when Malori was already asleep. He fell on the bed and started kissing her neck, mumbling,

"I finished the album. I know it's gonna be a hit. All thanks to you, my muse."

His kisses became more insistent. His palm slid under her nightie, squeezed her breasts. There was no point in pretending to sleep any longer. Malori moaned softly, responding to his caresses. He didn't notice the falsity. He never did. He ripped off her nightgown, rolled her over onto her back, and entered her in one rough, swift motion. Malori moaned beneath him, arching up, but it didn't seem necessary this time. He didn't even notice her playacting, completely focused on himself. At least it was over quickly this time.

No, she didn't feel bad or uncomfortable with him. She was okay with him. No worse than with any other demon. Her moans weren't always feigned. She wasn't always counting down the time until it was over. Despite all his narcissism, he tried. Sometimes he tried for her. Getting her attention. Oh, yes! Mammon craved all her attention. Giving her gifts, being there for her all the time. Especially after the news of her pregnancy.

Malori placed her palms on her bulging belly. A gold glint on her index finger caught her attention. Raising her palm to eye level, she was pleased to see a gold ring studded with rubies. His last gift. Incredibly expensive, she supposed.

She walked to the kitchen, continuing to admire the bloody shimmers. She poured herself some water and took a big gulp. This place was designed for taller demons, the kitchen counter almost at chest level.

When Mammon invited their circus troupe to perform in Greed, she was happy. They were noticed by one of the Deadly Sins. That's success. And where there's success, there's money.

But when that same Deadly Sin showed attention to her personally, she was, frankly, a little confused. His courtship was timid and clumsy, like those of an inexperienced teenager. But Malori didn't miss her chance. She diligently encouraged Mammon's attention to herself. Carefully, where with caresses, where with pouty lips, she wove a web around him, tying him tightly to herself. And very quickly she worked her way into his bed and then to his bank account.

Grinning, she took another sip of water. And jumped with fear and surprise when large palms rested on her stomach and a sleep-hot body pressed against her back.

"What are you doing?!" She was outraged, stepping out of her role for a second. But then she pulled herself together, turned around, and looked up at the tall demon in the silly jester's hat. "Don't sneak up on me, please. You scared me."

Malori demonstratively covered her stomach with her palms and made a resentful face. It worked. Mammon frowned guiltily until Malori realized he was just staring at the neckline of her nightie.

Carefully, as if she were made of crystal, he lifted her up and set her on the kitchen counter in front of him. Again he placed his palm on her bulging belly.

"Boy," he muttered. It had become a daily morning ritual that, frankly, was beginning to annoy Malori. But she smiled broadly and proudly said what he wanted to hear:

"Your son."

He raised glowing green eyes to her. Perhaps that was what was most attractive about him. Certainly after the number of zeros in his bank account.

His eyes, outlined in black makeup, studied her face intently. One palm rested on her cheek, thumb stroking her skin, and Malori tilted her head toward the touch, closing her eyes. Let him think it was from pleasure, not from trying to avoid his gaze.

Mammon's lips covered her own. He kissed greedily, assertively, as if he were marking his property. Malori responded eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck. It would have been easier for her if he hadn't been wearing that stupid jester's cap.

"Ouch!" She jumped suddenly as the child kicked her from inside.

Mammon immediately recoiled, as if afraid he had hurt her. Concernedly, he looked her over, but Malori paid him no attention. She pressed her hands to her stomach, listening to the sensations.

"What's wrong with you?" There was a hint of fright in Mammon's voice. "Are you sick? Should I call a doctor?"

She shook her head, grabbed his palm and pressed it to her stomach. The child, as if expecting it, kicked her in the stomach again.

Mammon's face lit up from within. His eyes shone brighter, his sharp gold teeth bared in a smile.

Perfect timing, kid. You're doing great. And Malori smiled happily. Now she had the Prince of Greed all to herself.