
“I can’t arrange the funds!” Lucifer said curtly. “Maybe later?” His wife, Delilah, spoke softly, but firmly. “Can’t promise you anything.” His face disappeared somewhere in the smoke of the cigarette. “You loved me. I mattered to you. Once.” Her eyes had a covert, but profound temper. “Once, everything was different. You weren’t so materialistic, once.” He glared...