CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
One million rand. For one night of work. To transfer someone deemed extremely important to the British. When he received the call from Printzlau four days prior, Mav almost hung up the phone once he heard all of the details. The Dane was as crooked as they came. Still, when it came to payment, the man always delivered the goods. One million rand? To become a human trafficker, no less? While his preceding assignments had proven to be fairly lucrative in their own right, none of them had ever offered to pay him this much, this quickly.
He had to remind himself that he was building this financial war chest for his nieces’ future. Whether Onnie sought his assistance or not—was irrelevant. These were still Nepthali’s little girls and his blood too. This was what family was
