[interesting]

[It's not strange you want characters to go in any direction. It's normal. I just hope you're enjoying the story.]

Samson could barely understand all that had transpired during the night between Saturday and Sunday. That is, he understood it, but it still made no sense to him.

Around 4AM, the police had crashed into his house to take him into custody under multiple charges. They had arrested his bodyguards too. The list of the crimes he was accused with was staggering: multiple counts possession of drugs with intent to sell (and they had found quite a stash in his home, along with the profits from his sales), assault charges, sexual assault charges, a few misdemeanors and resisting arrest (he had actually tried to strike an officer in his confusion).

By 6AM, he was in the interrogation room. By 7AM, his lawyer was in, and it looked bleak. The most damning piece of evidence came from his own voice - a confession of criminal deeds recorded on tape. They played a portion of it for him. In it, he recognized the female voice.

"...you like it in the butt, don't you..."
"Stop... please... you're hurting me."
"Serves you right for trying to back out of our deal."
"It's... blackmail!"

All the while the dialogue was playing, the sound captured the sounds of sex and a table rocking.

"So what? Bitch, you ain't... fucking done with me... I own your ass, like I owned your daughter's..."
"...please don't force yourself on my daughter again..."
"I'll do what I goddamn well please, you slut!"

There was a sound of a slap.

"Oh! fuck! I'm gonna fill your ass up so nice..."
"...no... please..."
"I'm coming in your ass slut... fuckk!!"

It was enough to indict him. His lawyer didn't see it good and wanted a plea; if Samson gave away his suppliers, he might get a deal. The cops refused.

Even after he was arraigned, later in the day, a Sunday of all days, Samson still didn't believe it, and how he had screwed himself up so bad. If he ratted out his bosses, he was dead. The only option to survive was to take it like a man and own up... that way, he might actually survive in jail.

In the courtroom, before being taken away, he spotted a man looking at him, casting an angry glance. It took him a moment to realize who it was, and suddenly, it all made sense. There were some people you just didn't cross, and he had crossed the line.

August Rand watched him walk away. He smiled, knowing that a punk like Samson would get his in prison. He would make sure of it. After all, what good was all this dirty money for if it didn't serve his interests. Keeping Justine and Tina safe was paramount. He had made a promise, and someone had encroached on his territory. That someone had to pay.