Veronica is worked her way to the very top. as a poor child, she swore one day she would make it. she made it all right. she owned multiple companies, and was well on her way to become a trillionaire. all the sacrifices had turned her into a greedy, narcissistic woman. she refused to do anything for herself. bathe herself, dress herself, chores. she only did things for herself. and no one could stop her. that was the great thing about being so beautifully wealthy. she had a maid for a reason.

draped over her thin body was a maroon satin robe imported from russia, with fluffy black trim. she wore nothing on underneath. the satin felt good against her naked body. she was lounged on a black velvet chaise. between two fingers she held a long cigar. a string of smoke lifted from the cigar into the room. she was lounged in the south wing parlor. it was late in the evening, her time to relax. sitting on the little table beside her was a glass of wine and red grapes from Italy.

“Faster, Anella.”