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Written by: Francoise
Megan was finally coming home after a long business-trip throughout Europe. This young and lovely twenty-three year-old businesswoman was vice-president of the company her father owned and she had to travel a lot every year. Her father has always placed his hopes in his only child and she had worked very hard not to disappoint him. Megan was a very beautiful woman: she had curly black hair, blue eyes, a charming smile and she was very well shaped. She was a very sociable lady, always knowing how to act in every circumstance. She was very rich: she owned a beautiful apartment in New York and another one in Los Angeles. When she went shopping, she would buy first, and check the price, after. But despite her gorgeous looks, her charming personality, and her riches, she was not happy. She wanted to be loved, not only by her parents, but she needed friends, and most of all, a lovelife. But she didn’t have time for that: her work took all the hours of her day. So this was her life: eating, sleeping, and working, working, working. And feeling lonely.
She put away her luggage, poured herself a drink and went near the bay window. She watched the city lights and sighed. On this Saturday night, in New York, young women her age were dancing and having fun with the men they loved… The doorbell rang. She used the intercom.
- Who is it?
- It’s a delivery from Irene Chapman Florist.
Megan opened the door. The man standing there handed her a bouquet. As she took it, he quickly grabbed her by the waist, imprisoning her arms, and put a small gun to her temple.
He whispered: - If you say one word, you’re dead. You come with me and do as you’re told. Understood?
Shocked, Megan nodded. The man took her to a car. He pushed her onto the backseat and sat next to her. He ordered the man at the wheel to “hit it”. As the car moved, the man next to Megan put a moistened cloth on her nose and mouth. She tried to take the cloth off her face, but chloroform made its way to her head and she fell into a deep sleep in her kidnapper’s arms.
The car moved fast through the streets of New York but the driver made sure not to exceed speed limits. This was no time to have trouble with the police. They went near a small house out of town. The driver hid the car behind the house, while the other man took Megan inside.
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A couple of hours later, the young girl woke up. Lying on a bed, she felt a bitter taste in her mouth, she felt weak and had no idea where she was.
A tall man came into the room.
- Awake?
- Where am I and who are you?
- I can’t tell you where we are but I’m Babyface Morales, at your service.
- Oh, no!
She remembered having seen Babyface Morales on TV. He was the perfect double of her favorite star, Micky Dolenz of The Monkees, but only physically. Micky Dolenz was earning his life honestly by singing and acting and directing and he was a very nice person. Babyface Morales, on the other hand, was a criminal. Megan had watched a TV-program about his numerous crimes and she had thought: “How can a so good-looking guy be so bad?” Now, there was no need to be Einstein to guess what she was doing here. He had kidnapped her because of her family’s fortune and he would ask a huge ransom to give her back. But would he? Would she still be alive after this adventure? She shivered.
- Are you cold?
- No.
- If you need anything, please ask. Despite my bad reputation, I have a certain kind of honor and if I get a million for you, I want to return you in good condition.
That sentence gave her a little hope. It meant that Morales would free her if he had the ransom he was asking for. A million dollars was not a lot of money for the very wealthy Charles Richardson, Megan’s father. And even if Babyface Morales had asked for his entire company, Charles would have given it to him, to make sure his beloved daughter would be returned to her family, in good health.
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