Chapter 7
Jax opened the door to his apartment, slid his phone out of his pocket, scrolled until he found a techno playlist, and hit play.
He reeled back from a blast of bass. Good. He needed loud. Louder the better to drown out his thoughts.
The noise filled the apartment as he walked along a marble-tiled hallway, the decibels hitting eardrum-shattering levels in the open living room. The beat pounded through him. Hard. Harsh. Hedonistic. Yeah, he needed this, needed to obliterate the tension of the last few hours.
He flung his suit jacket onto the couch, stalked across to the bar, poured himself a double-shot whiskey, and drank it like a shot.
The deafening riffs spilling from a state-of-the-art surround sound system matched his mood. Raucous. Discordant. Abrasive.
He slammed the glass down, the blaring noise a perfect match for his inner darkness. He would've rather flung the glass at the nearest wall and watch it shatter with a screw you, you stuck up snobs.
Being professionally snubbed by his fellow corporate mining giants tonight had seriously rankled.
Personally, he didn't care what the high society his father had ripped off thought about him, but he needed them to expand his business, and that meant attending functions like tonight.
A major pain in the ass.
He needed to re-enter their business circles, needed to convince them he was nothing like his morally corrupt father. Schmoozing the upper echelon of corporate Melbourne would be a necessary evil for what he had planned with Maroney Mine expanding beyond the west coast.
But the way they'd looked at him earlier, as if he was the worse kind of scum… Damn, how could he score business meetings with a hostile crowd who wouldn't even acknowledge him?
He braced himself against the window sill, oblivious to the million-dollar view of Melbourne many storeys below, tension bunching his shoulders.
He deliberately played techno-punk-grunge when he was this wound up. No lyrics. All noise. Music far removed from his parents' favourites, Bruce Springsteen and Bon Jovi.
Great, just what he didn't need after the evening he had, thinking about his folks. He'd been doing a lot of it lately with Denver's appeal looming and the constant media harassment begging him for any snippets he could provide.
While he told them to shove it—in more polite terms, of course—he half expected his mother to show up to vouch for the old crook.
He couldn't fathom why a beautiful, wealthy woman like Jacqueline Blaise had stuck by his deceitful dad following his arrest when the ugly truth had finally spilled out.
Until her double betrayal. Then everything became frighteningly clear.
He'd been twenty-four when Denver had been jailed for embezzling millions, when he'd known deep in his heart that Jackie had also been an accessory despite the police never finding proof of her culpability.
She'd introduced Denver to her rich friends.
She'd cultivated a high-society clique that included Denver despite knowing the criminal background he'd come from. Apparently Denver's father had been murdered in a drug deal gone wrong, a petty criminal trying to rip off a dealer.
His folks never talked about it but Jax looked it up online in his teens after he overheard Gran berating Jackie for her shoddy taste in men. After reading the full story about his grandfather, Jax remembered feeling relieved that his dad was nothing like that.
What a joke.
His mother also hadn't blinked twice about helping Denver rip off her moneyed friends, people her family had known for decades. And with Denver incarcerated, she'd simply waltzed out of Jax's life without a backward glance.
The mother he'd trusted, the mother he'd loved, gone, just like that.
Now, ten years later, Denver had drummed up another appeal and Jax wouldn't be surprised if Jackie came back.
Not only had Jax's love for his mother taken a serious hit, but he'd lost respect for her too. How could he not, when she buzzed around his charismatic father no matter what he did, yet didn't give a fuck about her only child and had severed contact with him for a decade?
He'd dealt with her treachery years ago and finally moved on, but it galled him that Denver had once again raised his ugly head at a time when Jax had a chance to finally make it to the top.
Maroney Mine flourished, and he thanked a nebulous god every day that his maternal grandmother had put the mine in his name the moment he hit twenty-five.
Wily Gran had hated her daughter's penchant for 'scrubbed up bad boys' and rather than leave Jackie everything in her will, she'd distributed her assets.
He'd been striving to make a success of the mine ever since, no thanks to the adverse publicity from Denver's trial and criminal ties, and his father's constant quest to make headlines.
Regular magazine interviews, rumours of ring-leading gambling syndicates within jail, and a tell-all biography ensured the Maroney name remained front and centre in the media; for all the wrong reasons.
No great surprise the journos were hounding him now for a different angle on the sordid tale.
As he'd told them repeatedly, he had nothing to say on the subject of his father. Not one single word.
Jax's hands clenched at the last memory he had of his dad before he'd been arrested. Denver had shouted him lunch at the swankiest hotel in Melbourne. They'd lingered over Tasmanian oysters and King Island filet mignon, with the most expensive Cab Sav in the house accentuating the meal perfectly.
No one could tell a story like his dad and he'd laughed long and hard at Denver's exaggerated tales, their closeness something he valued the older he got.
Not many guys he knew in their mid-twenties were still happy to hang out with their dads, but Denver always included him in everything.
Not quite.
Denver had been arrested the next day in a Victorian Police Force special operation targeting corporate crime.
Jax had been shattered.
The father he idolised, the father he looked up to, the father he admired for working his way up from his blue collar roots and being nothing like his deadbeat dad, to become a business dynamo, was a liar, a thief, a con artist, and not the man Jax thought he was.
He'd stood by Denver: through the trial, the bad publicity, the sentencing. Initially he'd done it out of loyalty, but as the trial progressed and the extent of Denver's treachery became apparent, he did it so he could imprint every last detail into his memory as a reminder to never be duped again.
By anyone.
Denver's non-contact with his son after his incarceration had been a bonus. He wouldn't have responded if the old man had tried to reach out anyway. The moment the door slammed on Denver's jail cell, Jax had slammed the door on his relationship with his father.
Every deceptive minute of it.
The music faded and he sank into the couch, a prickle of unease creeping across the back of his neck.
He might not care about the past any longer but he hated the insidious disappointment that swamped him when he remembered how many lives his father's deceit had affected, how many families he'd ruined by wiping away their fortunes.
By the crowd's response tonight, they wouldn't let Jax forget his connection to a man who'd ripped off millions.
Screw them.
He had a job to do.
A corporation to take to the top.
Tonight had been the first step towards making that happen. Business as usual.
Now who was lying? He might have finagled an invitation to the Seaborn event tonight but once he arrived and locked wits with Ruby, business had been replaced by the prospect of pleasure.
Wicked, decadent, all-night-long pleasure.
He wanted her.
He pulsed with it.
And what Jax Maroney wanted, he usually got.
Another thing he could thank dear old dad for.
He learned from a young age that if he demanded, he'd receive.
Denver had been a soft touch. A dad to pick him up from school and take him to the footy and play cricket in the park.
A dad to coach him from the sidelines and help with science projects and fix his bike.
A dad to beat at wrestling and build a tree house and go camping with.
Denver had done it all, always making time for him. Not that he'd been totally spoiled, but his parents had fondly indulged their only child.
Which made their emotional defection the harder to comprehend.
Denver had been an amazing dad. Kids had been jealous, and Jax had been proud. People flocked to Denver Maroney and he milked his popularity. Before proceeding to milk people's hard earned money thanks to Jackie's contacts, culminating in embezzling millions that landed him in jail.
Jax's fingers curled into tight fists and he thumped the couch's armrest.
Damn Denver. Damn him to hell.
With a stack of paperwork waiting, and employee performance evaluations to do, the last thing he felt like doing was ruminating on the evening and how, thanks to his father's reputation, he'd failed to make inroads in his takeover bid.
But the woman at the centre of his plans had succeeded in piquing his interest. He'd heard of Sapphire Seaborn by reputation, had expected to lock wills with a take-no-prisoners businesswoman.
What he hadn't expected was to be enthralled and challenged by a smart-mouthed blonde with more bravado than he'd credited her with. When she'd discovered his identity, and later heard his offer…man, she'd been magnificent, all riled and defiant.
He got hard just thinking about it.
Sadly, he wasn't at liberty to follow the demands of his libido, not when Ruby Seaborn had what he desperately wanted.
These days, when he wanted something, he took care of it himself.
Acquiring the Seaborn mine would be no different.