CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Welcome to the Tudhope Centre Apartments. High-Rise living at its luxurious finest. Or at least that’s what one of the ridiculous billboard advertisements highlighted as a selling point. Mav shook his head in disgust. This building was no better than a common tenement—whose exteriors had been re-painted in an attempt to fool honest, working-class Joburg citizens out of their hard-earned money.
Tudhope was so unsafe to a person of means that Mav would regularly park his Wrangler in a secure garage over seven blocks away. There were far too many able-bodied young men straggling about for his tastes—with nothing better to do aside from causing mischief. Better to spare a few coins and walk than to discover his vehicle had been ransacked or even worse, stolen.
He approached
