"Please, Mr. Ainsley, I just need a little more time! The shop... it hasn't been doing too well, you see." Ms. Zimmerman said.
Kieran Ainsley sighed. In the years since he had been promised success from his biggest patron, Amora, she had certainly delivered. He had immediately sold his share of the family butchery, no longer wanting anything to do with the bastard who sired him. With his money, he had built a novel institution called a 'counting house,' where people could store their money safely in exchange for ten percent of all deposits. His new venture also loaned money, at first to the poor and needy, and then later to minor nobles in need of funds, and as prestige grew, he had began supplying the governments of smaller kingdoms. Carefully, in order to cultivate his business without offending his patron, he had begun making donations to the God of Wealth and Finance, Plutus.
Of course, he made sure to continue regularly supplying Amora with expensive offerings, and her favor towards him only continued to flourish. Eventually, he had purchased his hometown and the surrounding area, and while all the Gods were recognized (no point in offending anyone) Amora and Plutus tended to get the most attention from their new benefactor.
Of course, this came with new responsibilities. In addition to collecting the loans and interest on borrowers within his borders (the ones outside it were handled by hired mercenaries in the case of the poor and merchant class, while nobles and kingdoms were handled by diplomats), he also was the one who personally collected taxes. And sometimes, like in the case of Ms. Zimmerman, he had clients who borrowed money to pay their taxes, which just caused them to dig themselves into a deeper hole. Interest rates weren't exactly low nowadays.
With a flourish of his hand, he gestured for the instrument of his discipline. A three-foot walking stick made of ebony, topped with a silver hand and a chunk of rose quartz on the ring finger (to honor Amora) was handed to him.
With an almighty swing, he showed Ms. Zimmerman the power of his pimp cane.
When the commoners protested his brutality, the Priesthood of Amora was always quick to inform people that to pimp slap his people was a religious duty, a means of remembrance, a reminder of the one who had first promised him such an exalted position in the world. As he was the first and only one to ever be possessed by the Goddess of Love, the almighty pimp slap was his way of honoring the one who had given him the responsibilities and the authority of his station. By sharing this with the common people, he was showing his love for them.
Ths Priesthood of Plutus reminded people that it was their religion's duty to pay their debts, and that by disciplining them himself in such a way, he was sparing the debtors the wrath of Plutus. The pimp cane, the back of his hand... these were instruments of compassion and mercy. Only a miser and a fool would think of it as brutality, and Plutus tolerates neither.
Truth be told? Kieran just didn't like it when people owed him money. One way or another, when you signed that dotted line on a loan agreement or a house deed, you were gonna pay.
Not like the experience of finding out the man who had been his role model and hero had knocked up his best friend and fiancé while he was just thirty feet away had left him bitter with an overwhelming desire to hurt other people like he had been hurt. That would be ridiculous! After all, how could his major patron, the Goddess of Love, ever support such a thing?
Millions of dollars worth of offerings and temple renovations, turning her altars into presentations of beauty that attracted converts like moths to flame. Of course, the only answer is that she wouldn't. She had blessed him, solely for his compassion and pure intentions.
"I grow tired of your excuses, Ms. Zimmerman," Kieran said wearily. "You made an agreement, and you are expected to honor it. You will have my money by this time next week, or risk offending the Gods. Remember, it is at the pleasure of Amora that you were loaned the capital to start this flower shop. After all, roses are sacred to her, and you do grow the best ones." He finished this sentence with a quick smile, which promptly shifted to a small frown. "Speaking of, you are still making your temple donations this year, yes?"
"I..." Ms. Zimmerman began. The pump came glinted in the light. "Yes, of course I am."
"Glad to hear it!" Kieran Ainsley shut his account book with a snap. "I will see you same time next week, Ms. Zimmerman. Have a blessed day."
Never let it be said he didn't care for the people in his community.
