Monica Stewart lay face-down on a massage table in the most elite spa in the western United States. It was extremely pricey. She was extremely worth it and took it as her due. She was pushing fifty-five but thanks to a stable of excellent plastic surgeons she kept on speed dial, she didn’t look a day over thirty-five. She’d come from very, very old Southern money, and Monica Stewart never let those around her forget it. Her lineage on her father’s side had been instrumental in joining West and East via train track back in the 1860’s. Others in her ancestry had hit big in oil in Texas in the 1890’s, and her destiny as a spoiled princess had been all but assured.
“Ouch! Watch what you’re doing, incompetent fool,” she sniped at the massage tech who was tending to her. “Those are my shoulders
