Chapter 29 – Madeline
Me: You up?
Quinn: Wow, bold opening. This better not be a booty call, Maddie.
Me: Your ego knows no bounds .
Quinn: Babe, when someone starts with “You up?” at this hour, it’s either a booty call or you’ve committed a crime. Which is it?
Me: I possibly just did both ;)
Quinn: HOLD UP. Are we talking metaphorical crime or actual jail time? Because either way, I need details.
Me: Went out with Jax tonight.
Quinn: OMG. FINALLY. Spill.
Me: Ferris wheel. Private ride. Late night.
Quinn: EXCUSE ME?! He rented out the damn Ferris wheel? And you’re saying it like you ordered takeout?
Me: Apparently, he knows a guy.
.
Quinn: Don’t be coy. DETAILS. RIGHT NOW.
Me: Might have gone down on him….
Quinn: YOU DID NOT. Maddie, are you alive? Did the pod catch fire? Did the city black out?
Me: No blackout. But… it was... a lot.
Quinn: A lot?! Girl. Jackie is the definition of a lot. I need specifics. Was he rough? Was he growling? Were the heavens weeping?
Me: There might’ve been growling. And… he used the belt.
Quinn: STOP IT. STOP. I’m SCREAMING. He WHAT?!
Me: Tightened it. Around my neck.
Quinn: DECEASED. Writing my obituary as we speak: “Quinn Carson: Died because her best friend lived her ultimate fantasy.”
Me: It was… intense. And then after… well, we didn’t stop there.
Quinn: Did you transcend? Did you see Jesus? Did Jax Brooks literally ruin you for other men?
Me: Maybe.
Quinn: OH MY GOD. Mads. Maddie. MADELINE. I am not equipped to process this. brUNCH. TOMORROW. Cancel all your plans. I need a full report.
Me: Quinn.
Quinn: FULL. REPORT. Every word. Every detail. I need to live vicariously through you.
Me: Fine. But you’re buying.
Setting my phone down, I couldn’t help but laugh at the flood of dramatic texts still coming in from Quinn. Tomorrow’s brunch was going to be an absolute interrogation, but a small part of me didn’t mind. As the memory of the night replayed in my mind, I found myself smiling.
I hadn’t planned it — hadn’t even considered it until the moment my hands gripped the leather, and I felt the air between us crackle with something untamed.
Then, before I knew it, I’d done it.
I’d taken it from him and slipped it around my neck, bold and daring in a way I never would have imagined myself being.
The memory made my stomach flip, a heady mixture of pride and disbelief washing over me.
Who even was I tonight?
A few months ago, I would’ve never dreamed of doing something like that — of pushing myself, of testing limits. And certainly not with someone like Jaxon, who carried himself with such control and intensity that it made my heart race just thinking about him. But there I was, handing over that control with a trust so complete it caught me off guard.
I hadn’t just been bold — I’d been fearless . And it wasn’t just because of him, though the way he looked at me, the way his voice dropped to that rough, gravelly tone, made me want to do things I never thought I’d have the courage to. It was because of the way I felt in that moment. Powerful . Like I was finally letting go of all the things that held me back.
The room was quiet, the soft hum of the air conditioning the only sound as I lay on my side, watching Jax sleep. His face was so peaceful in this state, the sharp edges of his usual intensity softened. He looked different like this — unguarded, younger. Vulnerable, almost. It was a rare sight, one I couldn’t stop staring at.
Sometimes, though, the peace didn’t last. There were nights when he still tossed and turned, his breath uneven, his body rigid at whatever he battled in his dreams.
I liked to think things were calmer for him now. That maybe, just maybe, I’d helped. The thought made my chest ache in a way I couldn’t quite name. He’d never said it outright, but I knew the weight he carried.
We’d stopped pretending the first night we’d been intimate. The line had been crossed, and there was no going back. For the past couple of days, I’d slept here in his room, wrapped up in his warmth, instead of the guest room down the hall.
That room still held all my belongings, though. My suitcase, my clothes, my toiletries — they were all still tucked neatly away in the space I’d been calling mine. It felt too soon, maybe too presumptuous, to bring them into his room. But every night, I found myself here, and every morning, I woke up next to him, wondering when the pretence would finally fall away entirely.
I glanced at the clock on the nightstand — 05:23 a.m. Sleep wasn’t happening anytime soon. We had gotten back home around an hour ago. Both exhausted from the excitement of the night - however my mind was too full to fall asleep, buzzing with thoughts I couldn’t quite quiet.
Slowly, I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him as I padded softly across the room.
My laptop was still on the kitchen counter where I’d left it earlier. I needed to catch up on emails anyway. Sliding onto one of the stools, I flipped it open and let the soft glow of the screen light up the darkened kitchen.
Jax had insisted I work remotely when I moved in. His protectiveness had been endearing, even if it made me roll my eyes at the time. He’d called my boss himself — a move I’d thought was a bit much — and explained, in that low, commanding tone of his, that I was dealing with “potential danger” and needed to work from home for the foreseeable future.
At first, I’d been mortified. I was capable of managing my own career, thank you very much. But then I’d seen the way he was looking out for me, the seriousness in his voice as he spoke to my boss, and it had shifted something in me. He cared, deeply, even if he didn’t always say it out loud.
It had been sweet, in its own over-the-top way. And if I was being honest, working remotely hadn’t been all bad. It gave me time to focus on my work without the distractions of the office and allowed me to stay here, in this strange bubble with Jaxon, where I felt... safe. More protected than I could accomplish by myself.
I opened my inbox, skimming through the flood of emails that had come in over the past couple of days. Most of them were mundane — status updates, meeting notes, a nudge from my editor about an overdue piece. But as I worked through them, my mind kept drifting back to Jaxon, to the way he’d held me, the way his presence had become a constant in my life in a mere couple of months.
I shook my head, trying to refocus. There was plenty to get done, and the emails weren’t going to answer themselves.
But as I scrolled through my inbox, a familiar itch started to crawl under my skin — the one that always came when I knew there was something more to uncover, something waiting just beyond my grasp.
My boss’s nudge about the overdue piece was a reminder of what I’d been avoiding. I’d been chasing answers about the club ever since I’d moved in with Jax, piecing together fragments of information, but one crucial piece had eluded me.
I opened a new tab, my fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment before I started typing. My research into Club V and the web of connections surrounding it had been slow going. Every lead seemed to fizzle out, every thread unravelling before I could tug it into something coherent.
Sean Weston had always felt like the key — an enigma I couldn’t quite crack.
Tonight, something felt different. My gut told me I was close.
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the blinking cursor on my screen. My gut still churned, that persistent feeling that I was missing something critical. I clicked back to my inbox, skimming through the emails until one caught my eye.
Subject: Thought this might help. From: Tim Grayson
Tim wasn’t just a colleague; he was one of the sharpest investigators I knew. Persistent to a fault and always chasing a story, he had a knack for uncovering things that weren’t meant to be found. We hadn’t spoken much lately save from the text he had sent, offering a hand if required, but his email immediately piqued my curiosity.
I clicked it open, my breath catching as I read his message.
Maddie, I wasn’t going to send this to you, but I couldn’t help myself — I’ve been following some leads of my own, and this story has teeth.
Attached is some footage I managed to snag from a PI buddy of mine. I think it ties your puzzle together. Be careful, kid ... Weston’s bad news.
Below was a file attachment, labelled simply VIP Suite Recording.
I hesitated for a moment before clicking on the file. The video loaded slowly, the screen flickering to life. The footage was grainy, taken from what looked like a discreetly hidden camera near the bar in one of the VIP suites at Club V. The audio was faint but clear enough for me to make out two familiar figures.
Sean Weston.
And Calloway , one of the club’s most notorious high rollers.
My breath caught as I turned up the volume, leaning closer to catch every word.
“...the payout’s guaranteed,” Sean was saying, his voice low but confident. “You just have to make sure the bets line up on your end. I’ve got it covered on mine.”
Calloway laughed, sharp and dismissive. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Weston. What happens if Frost catches wind of this?”
Frost.
Declan.
The name landed like a weight in my chest. Jaxon’s boss, the man who ran Club V like a tightly wound ship. The man who trusted few people, but trusted Jax explicitly.
Declan Frost wasn’t just a boss; he was the shadow behind every major decision at the club, the man who always seemed to know more than he let on. And if he caught even a whiff of this — of Sean’s behaviour, of Calloway’s involvement — it wouldn’t just be a scandal. It would be a shitstorm.
Sean shrugged, his cocky smirk practically dripping off the screen. “He won’t. I’ve been doing this long enough to know how to cover my tracks. You just make sure you hold up your end. The money will be in your account by next week.”
Calloway swirled his drink lazily, the clink of ice against glass faint but deliberate. “And what about the girl?”
My stomach tightened, my breath catching as I gripped the edge of the counter.
Sean exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes as if the question were absurd. “She’s been warned. I’ve made sure of that.”
Calloway raised an eyebrow, his smirk curling at the edges. “Warned?”
Sean leaned back, spreading his arms casually across the back of the couch. “Yeah. I’ve had a little chat with her. She knows to keep her nose out of things that don’t concern her.”
“And you think that’s enough?” Calloway pressed, his tone laced with amusement. “Brooks is protective. The kind of guy who doesn’t take too kindly to threats.”
Sean’s smirk didn’t waver, though a flicker of irritation crossed his face. “Brooks isn’t the problem. He can’t be everywhere at once, and she’s smart enough to know when she’s out of her depth.”
Calloway chuckled, the sound low and unsettling. “Let’s hope you’re right. Because if she doesn’t get the message...” He paused, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Well, that could complicate things. For both of us.”
The video ended, the final frame freezing on Sean’s smug face, and my breath hitched. The room felt too small, too quiet, the air heavy around me as the pieces started to click into place.
The cryptic notes left under my door and at the bar.
The man who grabbed me on the street that day, his hand gripping my arm hard enough to bruise.
The phone call that had Jaxon so feral, his entire demeanour shifting as he insisted on taking over the situation.
It had all been him .
The nausea hit me first, sharp and overwhelming. My hands trembled as I gripped the counter, the edge digging into my palms. I bowed my head, strands of hair falling from my messy bun.
I could hear his voice in my head, calm and cocky, replaying the words from the video: “She’s been warned. I’ve made sure of that.”
My throat tightened, and I felt my pulse spike, panic clawing its way up my spine. Sean wasn’t just a name on my suspect list anymore — he was the threat. The one who had been trying to scare me off, to silence me.
And I’d ignored it. Brushed it off. Convinced myself there was some other conclusion to all of this. Somehow. Some way.
The thought of him made my stomach churn. I’d crossed paths with him, spoken to him, maybe even smiled politely on occasions where it was warranted.
I’d even tried my best to put any weird feelings I had about him aside, because I knew it made Jaxon uncomfortable and I didn’t want to upset anyone.
Jax had defended him, reassured me when my instincts told me otherwise. “He’s a good guy,” Jaxon had said more than once, his loyalty to Sean unshakable, rooted in their shared past. I’d wanted to believe him, to trust his judgment, because if Jaxon believed in someone, it had to mean something.
Didn’t it?
Now that trust felt like a knife twisting in my gut. Sean had manipulated Jaxon’s faith in him, used it to hide his lies in plain sight.
I wished I’d trusted my instincts. Every weird vibe, every lingering glance from Sean — it hadn’t been paranoia.
It had been a warning, one I’d ignored.
He was Jaxon’s friend. Jaxon’s brother in many ways that I or any civilian would never understand — someone he had trusted with his life during their time as soldiers, through missions and moments most people couldn’t even comprehend.
Sean wasn’t just a coworker or an old acquaintance; he was part of Jaxon’s past, the kind of bond forged under fire, in the darkest, most unforgiving circumstances. Jaxon had brought him into his world, protected him. And this was how Sean had repaid that trust.
I swallowed hard, the weight of everything I’d uncovered pressing down on me. My hands hovered over the keyboard for a moment before I opened my inbox and clicked on Tim’s email.
The cursor blinked, waiting for me to form words that felt impossible to articulate. After a deep breath, I started typing.
Tim,
I don’t even know how to thank you. This footage... it’s more than I could have hoped for, but it’s also terrifying.
Sean is deeper in this than I thought, and I’m now certain he’s been the one behind the threats I’ve been getting.
You were right — this story has teeth. But it’s not just a story for me anymore. This is personal, and I’m not sure where to go from here.
Thank you for trusting me with this and for sticking your neck out to help. I know you didn’t have to, and that means more than I can say.
I’m not sure how close you had to get to pull this off, but I hope you won’t get in any trouble for helping me.
Maddie
I hit send, the message disappearing into my outbox. My chest felt tight, the weight of everything pressing harder now that I’d acknowledged it out loud.
The silence of the kitchen felt oppressive now, the hum of the refrigerator the only sound as I stared at my laptop.
I rubbed my temples, trying to push down the wave of anxiety threatening to consume me. The problem wasn’t just what I knew — it was what I had to do with it.
My stomach twisted as I realized the weight of it. Jaxon might not have seen it yet, but he would. And when he did, I wasn’t sure what scared me more — Sean’s capacity for harm or the storm brewing in Jax when he found out.
I stumbled back from the counter, my chest heaving as the weight of it all bore down on me. He wasn’t just dangerous — he was calculated, willing to cross lines I hadn’t fully understood until now.
And the worst part? He thought I’d gotten the message. That I’d back off.
But he was wrong. My fear simmered, bubbling into something else. Determination. Anger.
Sean Weston had made one fatal mistake.
He’d underestimated me.