By Ken Scott
Beauty, best activity within the urban, Ferrari, moment and 3rd houses in Paris and Cannes, let alone a spacious penthouse overlooking the Thames. definite, it appeared Donavan Smith had all of it. And the ladies. prepared and keen. And if, each from time to time, they were not so prepared, Donavan had his personal manner of persuading them. Jenny McArthur used to be diverse even though. She knew anything poor had happened in the course of a ten-hour interval of her lifestyles that was once a complete clean. yet, because it all steadily got here again to her, she relived the horrors encountered by the hands of Donavan Smith. and he or she desired to get even. Donavan must take care of her. Vicky Mackenzie harboured a mystery, a mystery that she hadn't disclosed to somebody. So why was once she spilling the beans to a complete stranger from London, a stranger who she'd purely met that evening? She instructed him all approximately her previous existence, the cold-blooded homicide of her husband, the phoney financial institution raid and the way the money used to be nonetheless available in the market someplace. Donavan listened and puzzled how he may well get his palms at the funds; puzzled if it was once attainable to devise a untimely retirement. it will get nasty, that used to be needless to say. yet why no longer? Donavan Smith had performed nasty ahead of, simply ask Jenny McArthur. Donavan Smith and Vicky Mackenzie: soul associates, secrets and techniques; it was once a fit made in hell.
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Extra resources for A Million Would Be Nice
Right this very minute,” he screamed. “But you’ll let me put some clothes on…. ” She stood there, naked, apart from a pair of pants she’d managed to climb into in the bathroom. She instinctively covered her cold breasts, now wary of her client’s gaze. ” he repeated. Her untidy heap of clothes lay on a bedroom chair. She took a slow, deliberate step towards them. Within an instant, he had beat her to the target, scooping up the clothes and casting them out into the long, dimly-lit corridor. He stood triumphant, a hand on the door handle.
Quite simple really. I’m amazed no one had ever thought of it before. A few weeks earlier, the bank next door had a raid for real. A young girl was gunned down, killed, shook the staff up big time. Several days later, maybe a week or two, an e-mail was sent to my husband’s bank telling each member of staff that there would be an exercise staged. Everyone thought it was a good idea, a sort of mock bank raid to gauge the staff’s reaction to the real thing. ” Donavan whistled. ” Vicky nodded and took another mouthful of wine, eager to continue now that she was in full flow.
Jenny blushed. “No, no, I wasn’t thinking that, I was just thinking about clothes. ” Jenny beamed like a schoolgirl on her birthday. ” Donavan shrugged his shoulders. ” **** Donavan finished packing his suitcase barely ten minutes before the taxi arrived. He carefully concealed a small packet under the cap of his expensive deodorant and pushed it deep into his toilet bag. He walked out into the sunshine, dressed in a pair of old faded jeans, an expensive beige designer jacket and a loose white cotton shirt.
A Million Would Be Nice by Ken Scott