Markus Haverhill was a man used to getting what he wanted.
He was the son of Leonard Haverhill, founder of Haverhill Enterprises. He was heir to a multi-billion dollar fortune. On top of that, he happened to be a six-foot-two, 200-pound, black-haired, blue-eyed Caucasian male in his late twenties. He had it all. He lived in a million-dollar mansion in Los Angeles. He drove very cool cars. He had a Ford, a Lincoln, a Toyota, a Jeep, a Porsche and an SUV. All of them the best in automobile finery.
Currently, Mark Haverhill was in Beverly Hills. He was at some party that some socialite was throwing. He hated these things. They were boring. He was right there when someone caught his attention.
A tall woman with long black hair and pale green eyes. She looked like she could be a centerfold. He approached her. Her name was Julia Anderson. She was some feminist author. Mark liked feminists. They were the most wicked bitches in the world. They said that they stood for the rights of women but they were basically after power and privilege just like everybody else on planet Earth. Some truly wanted to help women. Others were man-hating freaks and most were hypocrites.
He liked taking them to his bed. Nothing like making a woman change a firm "no" to "yes" and "oh yes". He smiled to himself as he approached her. She was a model. She was also an aspiring actress. He had seen the type many times. He knew just what to say to get her into bed and after talking to her for one hour, he had convinced her to show him her apartment.
That's exactly where they went.
