He fired up his laptop and glanced at the time.It was nearly three in the morning. The sexual escapades at the Warehouse a short distance away had alm...st certainly died down by now. He brought up his email and pulled up his various banking accounts. His phone rang, he picked up."Yes?" Mr. Reese, sorry to disturb you, Sir."Reese chuckled. "It's fine, Ethan. No need to apologize. I told you to call me at this hour, remember? How are things faring at the Warehouse? Was our little showcase a. No, don't bother to change your clothes. There's a problem, a small problem. Understand?" He flipped his phone closed. "Ten or fifteen minutes," he said to me.So we waited and talked about what he had done and what he spent all that money on - a lot of it gambling and on women, so he said. He had, he claimed, three mistresses in the area. His wife was, of course, long gone and he was paying her with our money.Then the girls arrived. Both wore croptop tees that bared their middle down to the. More

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