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 thatJackie 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 herdaughter'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.
