Forty Acres: A Thriller Read Online Free Page A

front of the sprawling Georgian gray-stone mansion. The ivy-laced columns that lined the facade were so tall that they seemed to hold up the night sky.
    Two uniformed valets assisted the couple out of their car. As Martin and Anna approached the elegant wrought-iron front door, Martin whispered to Anna, “You really do look beautiful.”
    “Thanks.” Anna took her husband’s hand and held her breath. “Here we go.”
    A smiling servant opened the door before they could ring the bell and beckoned them inside with a sweep of his hand. Martin and Anna stepped through the door.

CHAPTER 9
    T hey were all black. That’s the first thing Martin noticed when he and Anna entered the parlor where the other guests were chatting while enjoying wine and hors d’oeuvres.
    The house was even more beautiful inside than Martin had imagined. He didn’t know the first thing about interior design, antiques, or paintings, but he was certain that everything inside the Darrell home was the best. But as fantastic as the mansion was, nothing impressed Martin more than the roomful of guests.
    There were four other couples besides Martin and Anna in attendance. The men wore perfectly tailored tuxedos. The women were all draped in designer gowns and adorned with glittering jewelry.
    And they’re all black , Martin kept mentally repeating to himself. He just wasn’t expecting that. Of course, with Damon Darrell hosting, he knew that at least a few of the couples would be of African descent. But all of them? The idea had just never entered his mind.
    The queer smile he got from Anna told Martin that she too was surprised by the complexion of the guest list.
    “There they are,” Damon bellowed as he strode across the room with a beautiful woman by his side. Damon thanked them both for coming, then introduced his wife, Juanita.
    Martin had seen photographs of Juanita Darrell in magazines, but nothing had prepared him for just how stunning she looked in person. Statuesque is the word that popped into his mind. Like a fashion model in one of those two-inch-thick women’s magazines that Anna always thumbed through but never seemed to read.
    Juanita welcomed them with a smile worthy of a queen and complimented Anna on her gown. Anna countered by praising Juanita’s beautiful home, and their hostess seemed genuinely flattered by the comments.
    “I apologize for rushing off,” Juanita said, more to Anna than to Martin, “but there are still a few fires to put out. We’ll chat later.” Then she was gone.
    Damon took Anna’s arm. “Come on, let me introduce you two to everyone.” He ushered them to where the rest of the guests were gathered. “Attention, please,” Damon proclaimed in a booming, formal tone that made Martin smile. “May I present Martin Grey and his beautiful wife, Anna.”
    Martin and Anna were greeted with smiles and warm hellos. The oldest couple in the group was the first to step forward. They were probably in their sixties but wore their age well. The distinguished-looking man shook Martin’s hand firmly.
    “A pleasure to meet you. I’m Solomon Aarons and this is Betty, my wife.”
    Martin paused, surprised. Did he hear right? “Did you say Solomon Aarons? CEO of AFG?”
    Solomon smiled kindly. There was a calmness about the man, as if he owned the world and it wasn’t a big deal. “That’s what it says on my office door.”
    Martin couldn’t help appearing a little stunned. The financial world wasn’t something that he kept track of, but even he knew that American Financial Group was a big deal. After the recent economic meltdown, it was maybe one of the biggest brokerage firms on Wall Street, and Solomon Aarons, its savior CEO, was known as a financial genius.
    “Everything okay?” Solomon asked.
    “Sorry,” Martin said, “it’s—well—”
    “Say it,” Damon prodded Martin with devilish grin. “You didn’t know that the CEO of AFG was black.”
    Martin smiled sheepishly to Solomon. “He’s right.