Goddess of Vengeance by Jackie Collins Read Free Book Online Page B

trust you ignored her,’ Armand said, striding purposefully toward his palatial bathroom.
    ‘Who is she?’ Fouad asked.
    ‘Martin Constantine’s wife,’ Armand boasted. ‘I told you I can have any woman I want. They’re all whores.’
    Fouad shrugged and followed him into the bathroom. He was well aware of Armand’s predilections when it came to women. Privately he considered it a sickness, but he would never dare say anything. Although lately Armand’s sickness, coupled with his excessive use of drugs, was becoming almost dangerous.
    ‘That crying bitch deserved everything she got,’ Armand said, dropping his robe. ‘I took care of her in ways she won’t soon forget.’
    ‘Does it not worry you that she might tell her husband?’
    ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Fouad. She came here of her own free will. She wanted it. She was begging for it. Now remove the DVD from the camera, make two copies and put them in my safe.’
    ‘Yes, Armand,’ Fouad said. He would make three copies and keep one for himself. Nothing like insurance when dealing with a man such as Armand.
    ‘And The Keys?’ Armand said, quite unabashedly naked as he stepped into the all-marble shower. ‘What’s happening?’
    ‘I have several calls in,’ Fouad said, not wishing to reveal that he’d spoken to the owner’s attorney, and that he’d been informed that it was highly unlikely The Keys was for sale.
    ‘What is taking so long?’ Armand demanded, as four powerful showerheads rained down on his body.
    ‘You only told me you wanted to buy it two days ago,’ Fouad pointed out. ‘There are times it is prudent to be patient.’
    Armand stepped out of the shower, dripping wet. ‘I am not a prudent man, Fouad. You, above all, people should know that.’
    Fouad noted the Prince’s large appendage and attempted to avert his eyes, even though he’d seen it many times before. The Prince – like his father the King – was not shy.
    ‘I understand, Armand,’ he said evenly. ‘I am on top of it.’
    ‘You’d better be,’ Armand responded, vigorously towelling himself dry. ‘Whatever the price, I am prepared to pay.’
    ‘Of course,’ Fouad agreed, because agreeing was simpler than arguing.
    ‘How is your wife?’ Armand asked, abruptly changing the subject.
    Fouad hesitated for only a moment; he had no wish to discuss his wife with Armand. He was well aware that Armand did not approve of his marriage. Armand thought he had made a mistake marrying an American girl. But Fouad adored his wife and two little children, and nothing Armand could say would ever change that.
    ‘Alison is very well,’ he answered carefully.
    ‘Hasn’t cheated on you yet?’ Armand said with a spiteful smirk.
    Fouad maintained a steely silence.
    ‘All American women cheat on their husbands eventually,’ Armand stated. ‘Look at the whore I just threw out. She’s a classic example of a rich bitch with an itchy cunt.’
    Fouad chose to ignore Armand’s crass remarks. Sometimes he found them difficult to understand, considering Armand’s own mother was an American. But then Armand’s relationship with his mother had always been something of a problem.
    ‘Go make some phone calls,’ Armand said, abruptly dismissing his faithful right-hand man. ‘And before the end of the day I wish to know that The Keys is mine.’

Chapter Six
    ‘W hat’s going on today? Anything I should know about’ Denver asked Leon, a young detective with whom she’d become friendly. It was Leon who had encouraged her to transfer to the Drug Unit, a move she was excited about.
    Leon was African-American and quite laid back; he was excellent at his job and had helped her get acclimatized when she’d first arrived. They had a good buddy thing going on, which she hoped would last because sometimes she had a sneaking suspicion that Leon was on the verge of asking her out.
    Please don’t , a little voice whispered in her head. I’m taken. Besides, it would be awkward.
    Not that