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Excerpt
Rape.
What an ugly four-letter word. The very idea was preposterous. He had been arrested for rape. Michael Ward shook his head, remembering the charges written under his mug shot. He did not have to take any woman by force. Look at him.
He was at the top of his game. He began as an architectural designer. Then he moved into real estate where he purchased, rebuilt, and resold properties. It took some time, but his name meant something in the hotel resort business. Patrons knew any building bearing the MJW seal signified quality and topnotch service, for a price, of course. He had two MJW hotels in New York City, three in Atlanta, two in London, and one in Dubai. He had spa resorts sprinkled across Florida, Texas, and Chicago, all with the MJW stamp of approval.
Now, after all his hard work to build his empire, Michael could not imagine a nineteen-year-old bringing him to his knees.
Last week, he had been cracking open a bottle of champagne, celebrating his newest property acquisition in Colorado. This week, he was squatting in the corner of a four-foot cell, waiting on Verona “Tiger” Stachs to post his bail and negotiate the terms of his release.
How had he gotten here?
He had been booked on multiple sex and assault charges and had almost lost his cool at his arraignment. The fact that it was September 11 was not lost on him either.
Someone had set him up, and once he was out of here, he intended to find that person and make him pay. For the past few years of his life, Michael had become an expert at payback.
What an ugly four-letter word. The very idea was preposterous. He had been arrested for rape. Michael Ward shook his head, remembering the charges written under his mug shot. He did not have to take any woman by force. Look at him.
He was at the top of his game. He began as an architectural designer. Then he moved into real estate where he purchased, rebuilt, and resold properties. It took some time, but his name meant something in the hotel resort business. Patrons knew any building bearing the MJW seal signified quality and topnotch service, for a price, of course. He had two MJW hotels in New York City, three in Atlanta, two in London, and one in Dubai. He had spa resorts sprinkled across Florida, Texas, and Chicago, all with the MJW stamp of approval.
Now, after all his hard work to build his empire, Michael could not imagine a nineteen-year-old bringing him to his knees.
Last week, he had been cracking open a bottle of champagne, celebrating his newest property acquisition in Colorado. This week, he was squatting in the corner of a four-foot cell, waiting on Verona “Tiger” Stachs to post his bail and negotiate the terms of his release.
How had he gotten here?
He had been booked on multiple sex and assault charges and had almost lost his cool at his arraignment. The fact that it was September 11 was not lost on him either.
Someone had set him up, and once he was out of here, he intended to find that person and make him pay. For the past few years of his life, Michael had become an expert at payback.
Copyright (2015) by Michelle LIndo-Rice
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