Market For Love by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Format: epub
Published: 2010-02-13T07:24:39+00:00

Chapter Ten

Victoria Markham-prim, petite, and bleached blonde in a designer suit and Italian stilettos-sat in her posh Manhattan office, filing her nails down to the quick as she simmered with rage. The brief from Maxwell Moore, Junior's lawyers sat on the desk in front of her, its cover page crumpled and torn by her wringing, frantic hands. The attorneys' letter stated, in hard, cold-blooded legalese, that Maxwell Moore, Junior and Company had absolutely no intention of cooperating with her demand to have all her private equity shares in Maxwell Moore, Junior and Company immediately returned to her full control.

Of course, Victoria had never expected Max to surrender his company back to the Markham family without a fight. But she still hadn't expected her reaction to his latest parry to be so strong. It irked her. A lot. She was very, very angry-even for her. And why?

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Max was sleeping with Miranda Johansson.

Victoria had recently put one of the LaSalle-Majestic building's security guards on the Markham family payroll, and it had paid off in spades. The security guard had not only notified her when Max had rented and renovated ten more office floors in the building-including his posh private office penthouse-he had also reported that Max had had at least three wild trysts with a certain young, attractive, and female Maxwell Moore and Company stock analyst in his private offices. Two in the management company's first-floor lobby courtesy suite, one in Max's new office penthouse. Victoria knew full well that the only female stock analyst at Maxwell Moore and Company was none other than Miranda Johansson. So she could have deduced that much on her own.

The fact that, unbeknownst to both Max and Miranda, their torrid sexcapades had been picked up and recorded on the hidden security cameras Victoria had planted years ago was just icing on the cake. Victoria had paid her security-guard mole handsomely for that choice little tidbit.

She had watched the tapes herself that morning and every fiber of her being seethed at what she had seen. The sight of Max sucking that idiot Chicago analyst's nipples, biting her petite, scrawny little neck, pumping her obscenely from forward and behind-and God knew what else-had brought infuriating flashbacks of the horrible experience she'd had walking in on Max and Grace Pillman back at Harvard. The sight of Max pumping plump, low-class Grace from behind like a jackrabbit was a horrific, twenty-second XXX-rated stag film that had played itself over and over in Victoria Markham's brain nonstop for the past fifteen years.

Now it seemed that none other than her old nemesis Miranda Johansson had taken Grace Pillman's sordid place at Max's sexual table. Fine and dandy. The stage was set, then. When Victoria's plan came to final fruition, not only would she have Maxwell Moore, Junior's head on the platter she'd been polishing for him over the past fifteen years, she'd have Miranda Johansson's head beside it as a pretty, redheaded garnish.

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