Stealing Equity: A Beyond Vengeance Heist Novel

By David Potach

In a world where the powerful prey on the vulnerable, a group of unlikely heroes will risk everything to bring justice to the corrupt underbelly of the adult entertainment industry. "Stealing Equity" is a gripping tale of redemption, revenge, and the unbreakable bonds of friendship that will keep you on the edge of your seat until the very last

• Language: English
• Publisher: davidpotach.com
• Release date: Apr 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9798990462625

Book preview

Stealing Equity

A Beyond Vengeance Heist

David Potach

davidpotach.com

Copyright © 2024 by David Potach

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact [include publisher/author contact info].

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

Book Cover by vcbookcovers.com

1st edition 2024

For my family…

Once you have set yourself a goal and believe in it, have the audacity to believe that you can achieve it... Do not go at tasks with a return to the past.

Ralphy Waldo Emerson

Author's Note

Dear Reader,

Before you embark on this thrilling journey with the Beyond Vengeance crew, I wanted to take a moment to address the sensitive subject that forms the backdrop of this story. Stealing Equity deals with themes related to the adult entertainment industry, including pornography and trafficking. I want to make it clear that I have written this as a work of fiction and I strongly condemn the exploitation and abuse that frequently takes place within these industries.

It is important to me that readers understand that the purpose of this novel is not to glorify or sensationalize these issues, but rather to shed light on the real-life struggles and challenges faced by those who find themselves trapped in these situations. Through the experiences of the characters, I aim to explore themes of redemption, justice, and the power of friendship in overcoming adversity.

While the subject may be sensitive, I have attempted to approach it with care and respect. You will find that the story does not contain explicit sexual content, drug use, or excessive profanity. My goal was to tell an interesting story that entertains and engages readers while also prompting reflection and discussion about important social issues.

If you or someone you know has been affected by the topics addressed in this book, please know that there are resources and support services available. You are not alone, and help is always within reach.

Thank you for trusting me to take you on this journey. I hope that Stealing Equity not only captivates you with its thrilling plot and dynamic characters but also leaves you with a sense of hope and the belief that even in the darkest of times, there is always a chance for redemption and a better tomorrow.

With gratitude,

David Potach

Contents

Prologue

1.Chapter One

2.Chapter Two

3.Chapter Three

4.Chapter Four

5.Chapter Five

6.Chapter Six

7.Interview: Josh

8.Chapter Seven

9.Interview: Tony

10.Chapter Eight

11.Interview: Tommy

12.Chapter Nine

13.Chapter Ten

14.Interview: William

15.Chapter Eleven

16.Interview: Zack

17.Chapter Twelve

18.Interview: Big Mike

19.Chapter Thirteen

20.Chapter Fourteen

21.Chapter Fifteen

22.Chapter Sixteen

23.Interview: Justine

24.Chapter Sixteen

25.Chapter Seventeen

26.Chapter Eighteen

27.Interview: Chloe Jane

28.Interview: Lilly

29.Chapter Nineteen

30.Interview: Darby

31.Chapter Twenty

32.Chapter Twenty-One

33.Interview: Charles

34.Chapter Twenty-Two

35.Interview: Chase

36.Interview: Lolita

37.Chapter Twenty-Three

38.Interview: Ella

39.Chapter Twenty-Four

40.Interview: Sydney

41.Chapter Twenty-Five

Epilogue

Afterword

Acknowledgements

About the author

Prologue

An imposing façade of concrete and steel concealed the compound—a cesspool of vice and depravity. Moonlight glinted off the razor wire that crowned the high fence, its sinister gleam like a mocking smile.

Jesus, what kind of hellhole is this? she said to herself, her breath fogging up the window of her third story room. Her hands traced the cold glass as she peered into the darkness outside, searching for any sign of hope or escape.

Quiet! growled a woman behind the door. She flinched at Lilly’s voice, not wanting to draw attention to herself. To be discovered trying to flee would mean unspeakable punishment, and possibly worse—being dragged back into a special session with Lolita.

Fine, I’ll shut up, she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. I’m getting out of here, no matter what.

In the depths of her soul, an ember of defiance burned bright. She refused to let fear control her, even as the stark reality of her situation threatened to crush her spirit. This fortified compound was no mere prison; it was a place where dreams went to die, and she had no intention of becoming another lost soul within its walls.

She’d been here three years. Three years too long. Initially, it was her decision to be there. The invitation seemed genuine and the promise of riches seemed certain. She had hopped from company to company, always finding success, but never a home. Lilly made this seem more like the home she was used to. More like the one she dreamed of.

It wasn’t.

She had to get out now.

With every ounce of courage she could muster, she began planning a plan. She knew she couldn’t rely on anyone else to save her. She took control and seized the opportunity for freedom.

It was during one of the company’s many late-night shoots when she spotted a glimmer of vulnerability. The usual tight security seemed slightly lax as the crew prepared for an important event the following day. This was her chance, and she had to act swiftly.

Alright, think, she told herself, her mind racing through possibilities. There must be a different way out that doesn’t involve crawling through miles of sewer tunnels or rappelling down the building. Maybe something more… subtle?

She surveyed her surroundings, noting every detail. The room was adequate and well-equipped. Compact kitchen, tv, nice bed with a huge walk-in shower. Think luxury hotel suite. The major difference was the door connecting her room to the hallway. It was locked tight… solid steel reinforced by a heavy deadbolt. Only a tank can break through that thing.

Subtle, huh? she mused, smirking at her own sarcasm. Well, subtlety’s my middle name. That and ‘Get Me the Hell Out of Here.’

She knew her captors hadn’t expected her determination or resourcefulness. They saw her as just another pawn in their twisted game, a disposable asset to be used and discarded. But they had underestimated her—and that would be their undoing.

Okay, okay, she thought, tapping her fingers on the windowsill. Window’s too high, door’s a no-go. What am I left with?

Her eyes fell upon the ventilation shaft in the room’s corner, its rusted grate secured by four large bolts. It was narrow, but perhaps just wide enough for her to crawl through—she wasn’t as thin as she once was. The question was, where did it lead?

Only one way to find out, she whispered, steeling herself for what lay ahead.

Ventilation system, here I come. It’s not exactly a red carpet escape, but at least my skills as a contortionist will come in handy.

And with that final quip, she set to work. Her heart raced as she pried the grate free, her fingers trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation. Inch by inch, she pulled herself into the darkness beyond, her body wracked with shivers as the cold metal pressed against her skin. But she refused to let her discomfort deter her; the stakes were too high, and failure was simply not an option.

Alright, it’s go time, she thought, gritting her teeth as she began her perilous journey through the bowels of the compound. Just remember: keep moving, stay quiet, and above all, don’t get caught.

Because if you do… She shuddered at the thought, banishing it from her mind as she forged onward. Absolutely not. I won’t think about it. Focus on the escape and let nothing stand in your way.

She paused for a moment, contorting her body to navigate a particularly narrow section of the shaft. Well, I never thought my brief stint as a contortionist in the circus would come in handy, she mused, a smirk playing on her lips. Guess I can add ‘ventilation shaft escape artist’ to my résumé.

As she continued to crawl, the metal walls seemed to close in around her. I must say, the accommodations in this luxury resort are truly top-notch, she muttered sarcastically, brushing a cobweb from her face. Five stars for the ambiance.

Besides, she added with a wry smile, I’ve always wanted to see what it’s like behind the scenes of this twisted place. Time for the ultimate backstage tour. I just hope there’s no meet-and-greet with the director afterward. And with that, she disappeared into the darkness, her heart pounding in her ears as she ventured ever closer to freedom—or disaster.

She dropped from the ceiling duct and found herself trapped within the confines of a dimly lit, small security room. This wasn’t the main security center—that was housed in its own building. But this would do. With her back against the cold cinder block wall, she let out a quiet chuckle, the sound dripping with sarcasm. Well, this is just lovely.

She knew she had to disable the surveillance system to cover her tracks. With her knowledge of the company’s operations and security protocols, she swiftly circumvented the digital defenses, leaving the cameras temporarily blind.

Think… think, she said to herself, eyes searching the room for escape routes. The guards outside her door seemed to be in the middle of a heated debate about the latest adult film they’d been watching. She rolled her eyes; their crass humor was far from charming, but it might just provide the perfect distraction.

Alright, if I survive this, I’m going to need a drink. Or ten, she thought, her heart pounding in her chest as she formulated a plan. Focus. Find the moment, slip away, flee. Easy-peasy.

Hey, you seen that new one with the twins? one guard asked the other, his voice laced with twisted excitement.

Twins? You mean the Double Trouble Delights? said the second guard, chuckled lewdly. Yeah, man, that’s some quality stuff.

Quality stuff? Are they reviewing porn or wine? she mused internally, trying to suppress the overwhelming urge to gag. She recognized the need to act while the men debated.

Alright, boys, enjoy your riveting conversation while I make my great escape, she said under her breath, moving swiftly and silently across the room. Stepping into the shadows by the door, she held her breath as the guard nearest to her shifted in his chair, seemingly oblivious to her presence.

Imagine getting caught now, she considered, her body tense with anticipation. They’d drag me back to my room and force me to continue performing for Lolita and her minions until I’m nothing but a shell of my former self. No, thank you.

Hey, remember that scene where they– the first guard began, but she didn’t hear the rest of his sentence as she slipped past them, her heart pounding in her ears. I did it, she thought triumphantly, her adrenaline surging. Now let’s get the hell out of here.

Damn, this is almost too easy, she mused, her footsteps light and quiet as she made her way down the dimly lit corridor and out a side door. She knew the danger was far from over, but she couldn’t help but revel in the thrill of her daring escape.

She knew that her escape was not yet complete, but she had taken the first steps toward reclaiming her life and seeking justice for the countless victims of this industry.

Could she turn this into a book? The thought made her smirk. ‘The Great Porn Compound Escape’–sounds like a bestseller to me.

Almost suffocating, the air outside the building was thick with tension, but she didn’t let that deter her. She moved like a shadow in the dimly lit compound, her footsteps so light they barely made a sound. Her bright red hair seemed to catch every stray beam of light, but she kept it tucked under a makeshift cap fashioned from part of her tattered shirt. She was all stealth and cunning now.

Never thought all those years of playing hide-and-seek would pay off like this, she mused as she pressed herself against a wall, peering around a corner for any signs of guards or cameras. The coast appeared clear, so she darted forward, making a beeline for a stack of crates that offered temporary cover.

Seriously, I should be a professional thief or something, she said to herself, smirking at her own dark humor.

As she reached the crates, she heard voices approaching from the other side of what appeared to be a storage yard. Panic raced through her veins, but she used it to fuel her determination rather than succumb to it. Quietly, she slipped behind the crates, holding her breath as two guards walked past, chatting animatedly about a recent football game.

Can you believe that last play? one of them said, his voice full of disbelief. I mean, what kind of idiot tries a Hail Mary pass with only five seconds left on the clock?

An idiot who just lost us our bet, that’s who, the other guard grumbled, shaking his head.

Tell me about it, she thought sardonically, waiting for their voices to fade into the distance before daring to move again. Glad my life’s on the line while you guys discuss sports.

Continuing her journey through the compound, she ducked into spaces between buildings or behind trees when necessary, always keeping an ear out for any telltale signs of danger. Each step brought her closer to her goal, the adrenaline surging through her veins, making her feel more alive than she had in years.

Freedom, she thought, a fierce determination burning within her. I’m so close, I can practically taste it.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she caught sight of the high fence that surrounded the compound. Her heart hammered in her chest as she realized just how close she was to escape, but she knew she couldn’t let herself get cocky now. Climbing over that fence would be no easy feat—especially at the risk of being spotted.

Alright, time for one last Hail Mary, she muttered, taking a deep breath as she assessed the situation. The fence loomed before her, a daunting reminder of the obstacles still standing between her and freedom. But she refused to be intimidated.

Come on, you’ve made it this far, she told herself, summoning every ounce of courage and resourcefulness she possessed. You can do this.

With a last glance around to ensure nobody had detected her, she sprinted toward the fence, praying that luck was on her side.

The cold metal of the fence bit into her fingers as she scaled it. She gritted her teeth, ignoring the pain and focusing on the freedom that lay just beyond it. As she reached the top, a jagged edge tore through her skin, eliciting a sharp gasp.

Shit, she muttered under her breath, gripping the fence tighter to keep from losing her balance. Razor wire, of course.

As blood trickled down her arm, she fought against the urge to cry out in pain. With a shaky laugh, she said, Well, no one ever said escaping was gonna be easy, right?

Despite the throbbing in her arm, she managed to swing her leg over the fence and began her descent. Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out the sounds of the compound behind her.

Almost there, she thought, her muscles screaming with every movement. She dropped to the ground, wincing at the impact but not allowing herself to dwell on it.

Okay, time to run like hell, she told herself, forcing her legs into motion. The scrubland before her seemed to stretch on forever, the sandy floor of the land beckoning her forward. Terror and desperation fueled her as she sprinted through the trees and bushes, branches whipping at her face and snagging her clothes.

Seriously? she huffed, swiping away a particularly aggressive branch. Could this get any worse?

Her thoughts raced alongside her pounding footsteps, each one bringing her closer to freedom—or capture. As much as she tried to focus on her escape, the pain in her arm demanded attention. It throbbed with every heartbeat, a constant reminder of the danger she’d left behind and the risks she still faced.

Keep going, she urged herself, her breath coming in ragged gasps. If you stop now, they’ll catch you for sure.

She couldn’t afford to slow down. Not when she’d come this far, not when her life—and her sanity—were on the line. The darkness of the land without streetlights enveloped her, offering both concealment and a disorienting maze that threatened to swallow her whole.

God, I hope there’s some kind of path out of here, she thought, her fear tinged with a bitter humor. Or at least a friendly woodland creature who can show me the way.

But as the trees and brush closed in around her and her breaths became more labored, she knew there would be no magical solution to her predicament. It was up to her alone to find a way out—or die trying. She pushed herself harder, running through the pain and the fear, determined to put as much distance between herself and the compound as possible.

The unforgiving underbrush tore at her exposed skin, leaving fresh scratches and welts in its wake. But she barely noticed the pain; her focus was solely on the faint glimmer of light that signaled the edge of the expanse—and the road beyond.

Almost there, she said, the words both a reassurance and a prayer. Just a little further.

Her strength was nearly gone, but she clung to her determination like a lifeline, willing herself to keep moving. And then, finally, she emerged from the treacherous forest, collapsing onto the hard asphalt of the road with a gasp of relief.

Never thought I’d be so happy to see pavement, she murmured, her vision beginning to blur. At least now I have a chance.

As she lay there, the cold ground leaching away what little warmth she had left, she couldn’t help but wonder if it would be enough. But for now, she was alive—and that would have to do.

A sudden gust of wind whipped across the pavement, chilling her to the bone. She shivered, each tremor sending jolts of pain through her battered body. But as much as she wanted to curl up and hide from the world, she knew that wasn’t an option.

Come on, girl, she said to herself, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. You didn’t come this far to die by the roadside.

Forcing herself to sit up, she scanned the deserted highway for any sign of life. The darkness seemed to stretch on forever, but she refused to give into despair. Instead, she slapped her cheeks lightly, trying to keep her fading consciousness at bay.

Any minute now, some charming prince will come whisk me away in his shiny car, she mused, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. Or, more likely, some trucker looking for a little action. But beggars can’t be choosers, right?

As if on cue, a pair of headlights appeared in the distance, cutting through the inky blackness like a beacon of hope. Her heart leaped with a mixture of relief and trepidation, knowing that whoever stopped could either save her or seal her fate.

Alright, time to turn on the charm, she said, doing her best to strike a pose that was equal parts desperate and alluring. She winced as the effort sent fresh waves of pain shooting through her injuries, but she gritted her teeth and held her ground. Here goes nothing.

The car slowed to a stop beside her, and the driver’s side window rolled down smoothly. A middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and a kind, weathered face peered out at her, his eyes wide with concern.

Good God, what happened to you? taking in her battered appearance with shock. Do you need help?

Only if you’re offering a ride to the nearest hospital and a fresh set of clothes, she quipped, doing her best to keep up the façade of nonchalance despite the agony that tore through her with every breath. Otherwise, I’ll just wait for the next guy.

Get in, shaking his head at her bravado. I’m no prince charming, but I think I can manage both requests.

She climbed gingerly into the car, wincing as her injuries protested the movement.

As the car pulled away from the side of the road, she allowed herself a moment of relief, feeling the weight of her captivity lift ever so slightly. She wasn’t out of the woods yet—both literally and figuratively—but for the first time in longer than she could remember, she had something resembling hope.

She had escaped the clutches of her captors, armed with the evidence to dismantle their empire and ensure they would hurt no one again.

But her journey was far from over. She would need allies, support, and a plan to expose the truth. With renewed determination, she stared out the front windshield, ready to face the challenges ahead and fight for the justice she and so many others deserved.

By the way, she said, turning to her rescuer with a coy smile as the last vestiges of fear fell away, you can call me Justine.

Chapter One

Darby’s long legs carried her across the crowded room like a gazelle, striding through a field of predators. She had once ruled the volleyball court, an unstoppable force that left opponents shaking in their sneakers. Now she earns her living as a high-class escort, and instead of spiking volleyballs, she plays a different type of game.

Ms. Darby, I presume? a man asked, raising his glass as he looked her up and down.

Guilty as charged.

Darby’s face wore a smirk when she replied with a smooth, sultry voice. Her sky-blue eyes locked onto his, disarming him with practiced ease. She wore her blonde hair in a blunt collarbone cut and a sleeveless blue jumpsuit that was held tight to her torso but relaxed below her hips, which flared out in empire lines. Her hair carried the warm scent of jasmine petals during sunset as it blew in the wind.

Please, call me Charles, he said, nervously adjusting the cufflinks on his designer suit.

Only if you call me Darbs, she countered, leaning casually against the polished bar. The bartender slid a martini towards her, garnished with a single olive. Darby plucked it from the glass and tossed it into her mouth, winking at Charles. You don’t mind if I call you Chuckles, do you?

Chuckles? he stammered, taken aback by her wit. I… uh, well, I suppose not.

Great. So, Chuckles, tell me something interesting about yourself. Darby eyed him expectantly, sipping her martini.

Interesting? Well, I’m a collector of antique cars, he said, puffing out his chest.

Ah, a man who loves old things. Good to know. Darby’s grin grew wider as she saw the color rise in his cheeks. Relax, Chuckles. It’s just a joke.

Charles laughed, albeit slightly embarrassed. You’re quite the character, Darbs.

Character makes life worth living, don’t you think? Darby took another sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving his. Now, let’s get down to business.

Of course. Charles cleared his throat and pulled a small envelope from his jacket pocket. Everything we discussed is in here.

Perfect. Darby snatched the envelope