A Beauty With Multiple Masks

Round the other side, along the edge of the pristine aquamarine pool, a devilishly handsome man in floral trunks with only a white towel draped over his torso was stretched out leisurely upon a deck chair.

Next to him was an attentive bikini-clad woman who served up a mojito which the man took one glance at but otherwise left untouched.

The woman was wary and knew not to get too cozy. Therefore, she returned to the pool where she frolicked with another similarly skimpily dressed woman.

Babes, bikinis, and pools were the fantasy of many men, but the man’s attention seemed to be elsewhere, as though completely unmoved by everything before him.

It was then that a black-clad blond man approached him.

The man’s eyes finally perked up when his counterpart’s outfit drew a frown from him. “You look like a swarthy rat dressed up like that today, Gerald.”

The swarthy rat laughed it off. “Heading out later, so I’ve got to keep a low profile. Do you know what I’ve found out?”

The man pursed his lips and was in no mood for mind games. “Out with it.”

Electing not to continue beating about the bush, Gerald said, “Vinson Southall has returned, and he’s pretty capable too to turn back the heads of those who we

bank to bring over

be more to it, the man

when he was interrupted by the laughter of the two beauties in the pool. He shifted

bodyguard, though drenched all over, dared not lose his cool and could only stand there

own gaze when he heard the frosty voice of

two terrified women looked over, they trembled when their eyes met the man’s monstrous gaze before they reacted and half-fled

not all that fazed. “You

keep talking,” was the

to purchase a property, and he has his sights set on that modern mansion in

finger

feet with a face full of

an important matter only

towel he had on him to fall onto the floor and that exposed the massive tattoo on

up of stars, and its entire length extended to underneath the man’s trunks.