How NOT to be a mother in a doomed story (Oc story)

One month later part 1

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º...Snipet...º

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"Ok...this its getting out of hand.."

Now, one would think that when someone said that line..things were going from bad to worse, but from a certain point of view you would never be able to get your head around such bleak words. After all...the products were selling easier than ice-creams in a very hot day, right next to a school at closing hours.

It was a true hit..

Perhaps...too much.

The perfumes would fill the stalls one day...and in just two hours half of the existences would disappear, two more and the entire shop would be empty of it.

She had more dough than an Italian bakery...and gods she loved the idea of swimming in a pool of Golden coins Scrooge style.... but goddammitcouldn't those monkeys hold themselves up instead of forcing me to go night after night without taking a nap in order to meet the demand..!?

"Alright...this is the last batch, my last twenty bottles. If I price them as Forty million Mora each surely no one will try to buy them.., right..?"

As far as bullshit plans came....it did sound like a very solid plan. At the very least it allow her to get a lot more merchandise in stock instead of having it vanish so damn quickly.

"Are you sure madam? It sounds...extreme.."

"Yes Noriko, but its for a good cause [My painful lack of a proper sleep for one] "Anyway, don't worry about it...I mean, surely no one is stupid enough to waste that much money on a damn bottle..., right..?"

(The very next day..)

"Madam, take our money..!"

"I brought sixty Million..!"

"I rented my home just to buy this lot..!"

"I sold my furniture..!"

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[Fuck...]

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"..........." = Speech

[.........] = Thoughts

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º....The Hearth....º

....One month later....

In the compfines of her own room, if one was paying attention they could over hear the small, rustling of pages as her fingers toyed and turn on the pages of the documents she was currently working on. The light or morning gently swaying inside through the windows that led to the balcony outside, colouring in soft hues her office while a calm breeze pushed through the velvet drapes hanging just around the source of said light.

There, resting on throne like chair stood a dark pink haired woman, dressed in nothing more than a lithe almost transparent night-robe that was loosened around her, yet.., as much as her body was the epitome of unkempt and informal, her eyes were very much awake as they studied the documents before her