Under the protection of two black expensive cars, the Knight XV stopped in front of the house, and Ricky Peck, the lead bodyguard, opened the car door for his employer. As the door opened, a pair of shiny high-end men’s leather shoes appeared, followed by long muscular legs.
It was Thompson. He stood up straight and then he fastened the buttons on his suit. He looked towards the house, and then back at Ricky. The entire property from the curb up to the front porch was littered with paparazzi. “Spread out,” he said. “You know what to do.”
“Yes, sir!” Ricky replied. With the slightest wave of his hand, he summoned his crew and within minutes they had destroyed all of the equipment that the reporters had brought with them. The reporters cursed and swore and, when they realized it would do
