When I brought up James, one of the girls sneered, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
"You can’t even save yourself and you’re worried about someone else?"
"You came in here, ordered six girls like you were some filthy-rich heir and now you’re whining about three million? Stingy much!"
Her words hit like a slap, but before I could respond, she added with a wicked grin, "If you don’t cough up the cash, we’ll send you straight to Mentor Wilson. He’ll make sure you ‘work’ off the three million."
Panic surged through me and I blurted out, "I’m not going anywhere! Don’t you realize this is illegal? Kidnapping and extortion, this is a crime! Let me go right now!"
"What, you think freeloaders like you have the moral high ground? Pathetic. Fine, if you’re too scared for Mentor Wilson, then pay up! Or I’ll just handle you myself!"
Without warning, she grabbed a beer bottle and brought it down on the back of my head.
Pain exploded as the glass shattered and warm blood began to drip down my forehead, staining my vision with red.
Just as she reached for another bottle, I shouted in desperation, "I’ll pay! But I don’t have that much on my card! How about two million now and I’ll call someone to bring the rest?"
It wasn’t a lie. I had won five million in the lottery, but I had donated over two million to help poverty-stricken areas.
After taxes, only two million remained in my account.
Even if they beat me black and blue, I still couldn’t magically produce three million!
Before I could take another breath, a heavily made-up woman dripping in jewelry slapped me across the face.
"Head to toe, you’re decked out in designer brands and now you’re claiming you don’t have money?"
"Don’t think I’m stupid. If you dare pull any stunts or call the police, I’ll make sure you’re ‘dealt with’ immediately!"
"Maggie, why bother arguing with him? Just send him to Mentor Wilson! With his looks and body, a little ‘training’ will make him a gold mine!"
The words sent a chill down my spine. That was when I took a closer look at the woman they called Maggie. Something about her heavily painted face and flashy jewelry struck a chord. Wasn’t she… Margaret?
Margaret, better known as Maggie, had once been one of my sister Brenda’s trusted subordinates.
My sister ran a gang, commanding respect and fear, but when it came to me, she was a relentless control freak.