Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Madison’s jaw dropped. Shock ricocheted through her system. That was the reason Todd had killed Brent in cold blood?
“But a picture is worth a thousand words,” Genie went on. “So instead of me rambling, let me show you. Cover your children’s eyes. This is graphic.”
Genie pressed a remote, and the screen lit up with images of Brent and Todd together as children—swimming, laughing, playing video games. Dozens of images followed in which the boys got bigger and older. A shot of Brent standing at Todd’s left elbow during their wedding swamped Madison with memories. The next, a video rolled, showing Todd tossing bills at a girl who looked barely legal. She got on her knees between Brent’s feet, eyes wide and wary, as he unzipped his pants and led his cock to her waiting mouth while Todd shouted, “Happy birthday, man! Live a little and spew all over her face.”
Brent recoiled. “That’s degrading.”
“Who cares? She’s a whore.”
The crowd gasped. Angry murmurs started. She could almost feel the voters’ outrage at Todd.
There was no one more deserving.
“Stop rolling!” Todd shouted to the bank of press cameras, then lunged for the remote in Genie’s hand. “Someone cut that feed and disconnect that fucking computer!”
Matt stepped between him and Genie. “No one here will end the video. When your grandmother put Genie in charge of overseeing the production for tonight, this brave woman made sure we had the right people in the right places. Of course, she also made a Pershing-approved, full-of-lies version. But does anyone want to see that?”
The collective audience began shouting and booing.
Genie thumbed the remote again. More pictures filled the screen—Todd and Brent in Cabo, in Winston’s office drinking scotch, on Christmas morning checking out Todd’s sweet new Porsche. Then another video started, and Madison instantly recognized the footage from her cellphone of Todd yelling that Brent couldn’t pin everything on him while shoving him against the shower wall and slitting his throat.
The crowd gasped again, now shocked—and angrier. Some at the front rushed the stage, yelling that Todd deserved to go to prison. The police began to close in.
Madison blinked. This was happening. It was really happening. The scene was like a fantasy, but she’d never dared to imagine it would come true.
Todd lunged at Matt, who sidestepped him with a sneer. Her husband was a bully, not used to anyone pushing back. That spoiled shithead, who hadn’t heard no enough as a child and didn’t respect boundaries because he’d never had any, roared before he threw a punch at Matt.
That was her husband’s first mistake. His violence gave Matt the green light to defend himself. He clocked Todd with a mean right hook to the face that sent his head whipping over his shoulder. Her soon-to-be-ex-husband staggered back, looking shell-shocked and dazed.
As Brent’s body slumped to the ground on the screen, Madison zipped her gaze to Genie. The woman sent her a vague shrug and a smile. Yes, she knew the implications of her actions. No, she didn’t care if Winston or any of the other Pershings came for blood. She had nothing left to lose.
Madison took her hand and squeezed. “How?”
She didn’t ask why. This was Genie’s revenge, and she was enjoying every sweet, sweet moment.
The older woman turned a misty gaze to Matt. “This guy. With his help, I found all the information I needed among Brent’s effects. Watch this.” Then she lifted the mic back to her mouth. “Folks, this is just the beginning. Besides the fact Todd cheats on his wife, the rumors that he likes to seduce underage girls? They’re true. He had a child by a seventeen-year-old Georgetown freshman a few years back. But she’s hardly the only one.”
The screen filled with the image of Todd gripping a girl’s chin with biting fingers while her small mouth wrapped around his cock. The upper part of her face was blurred to protect her identity, but the tears rolling down her cheeks toward her stretched, bruised lips were unmistakable.
“She consented!” Todd insisted, the mic picking up his protest enough to carry through the speakers.
A familiar man jogged out from stage left then and yanked Todd back with a firm hand over his rattling mouth.
Zy. He acknowledged Madison with a bob of his head—and secured her husband’s arms behind his back. Once, the operative had used and left her. She’d blamed guys like him for tanking her self-esteem and setting off the chain of events that led to her disastrous marriage. But Zy had only promised her pleasure. Rather than accepting that, she had taken his dismissal personally, then looked for another man to make her feel better. Instead, she should have found validation within herself.
With today’s heroics, Zy had more than absolved himself. She nodded in return.
Then Madison turned her glare to Todd and leaned toward the microphone. “Was she old enough to consent? The French attaché’s daughter you’ve forced yourself on isn’t. She’s barely sixteen. How many of you out there have teenage girls? How many of you would be outraged if a man who’s pushing thirty wanted to touch her like this?”