Chained to the Billionaire

Three: Maxwell

    The moment Whitney and her new boyfriend walked into the party room. Maxwell wanted to get the f**k out of there.his fist went tight as anger threatened to erupt , destroying his calm exterior. Having had years of experience with emotional control, he immediately slammed down the fury inside of him with the force of cold logic. Getting pissed at her would bring him nothing, just the same as hating her hasn't been very good either it was all wasted energy on useless emotions. 

    "What the hell is she doing here?" Jeff, Maxwell's older brother, hissed. "I thought she was in France." He was staring at Maxwell's ex-wife, dressed to the nines. She was still breathtakingly beautiful, Maxwell had to admit, but that beauty was now tainted in his eyes.

    "How the f**k should I know?" Maxwell said calmly. "We are divorced."

    Tom, Maxwell's youngest brother, snorted. "The b***h does know how to turn the party sour."

    "You okay, bro?" Jeff asked.

    Maxwell nodded. Leaving the party now wouldn't be a good idea, and everybody would know it was because of Whitney and I can't let her have that over her head b***h has already caused so much damn drama in my life. He thought to himself. Hell if he'd let anyone think that. This alliance with Willingtons was  too important to let this small inconvenience destroy the hope of a business contract between their two powerful families.    

    ":The boyfriend looks as young as that kid Jason Jones," Tom said.

    Maxwell flicked his gaze to the new boyfriend. Tom was right. He looked as young and naive as the boy who was deserted by his so-called friends when they'd stupidly swindled and lost two million of his dollars in a gambling ring. This guy had more more gullible than that boy. 

    "Speaking of Jason," Jeff asked. "What the hell did you do to him?"

    "Gave him a good talking to," Maxwell said coldly. of course his brothers knew what that meant. "I have him locked away somewhere. I have major plans for him that will happen at a later date and it's on a need to know basis and well you guys don't need to know. He is being watched closely by Steve."

    "s**t! Maxwell,: Jeff said in disbelief. "Why the hell did you give that poor kid to Steve? You know he will f**k the s**t out of him."

    Maxwell usually wouldn't disagree with that. Steve Ray preferred males for bedmates, not that Maxwell ever thought anything was wrong with that. If that was the way he was who was it for him to stop it, but when Maxwell started checking on this kids background he seen something that he wanted more than he would love to see the kid that stole from him tortured. 

    "Hey Steve, I need a big favor from you." Maxwell told him that day when he finally showed up at his office. "What do you need boss." "I have this kid that stole a bunch of money from me I know that he wasn't alone in this so that is why I'm not having him killed but I still think that he should be punished. I don't want him hurt but I want him scared. Now I know that you have a reputation of torturing young men I don't want you to do this to him but I want you to scare him. If you can do this I will reward you handsomely." After all Steve was one of Maxwell's best business partners as well as one of his best. He could tell the moment the man saw the boy that he was very interested. Sparks started flying as people say. Funny how he'd never felt any spark with Whitney.

    "He knows that if he does anything to that boy before I get what I want there will be hell to pay." Maxwell said, shrugging. Besides, I offered him a job for now, and Jason needs that job and a place to stay. Steve will look after him and make sure he doesn't f**k up again."

    He didn't add the fact the boys life was in danger and he had agreed to protect him since there were some very dangerous men hot after the boy. Jason was an important eyewitness to a deal gone wrong a few months back. There had been a bit of an alley shooting and bashing, as per usual in their part of the world, especially in Las Vegas where this particular incident had taken place. Of course, Jason would be dead in a few hours, if it wasn't for Steve expertise.

    Tom laughed. He understood why James was keeping an eye on Jason. "You still want that two million back, don't you?"

    Maxwell shrugged. Two million was a lot of money, and he wouldn't deny the fact that he wanted it returned to him. He knew, however, there was no hope of seeing even a dollar back from Jason himself. The boy was barely twenty and barely able to survive in this competitive, and cutthroat business world, he has already proven that. He looked like a lost innocent lamb in a lions den. 

    His sister, however, was a different story. She sounded like she had the two million to spare, informing him via email that she'd be over to negotiate for his release.

    Maxwell wanted to laugh at the word release. It wasn't like he was imprisoning Jason against his will, for f**k's sake.

    "Maxwell, Jeff, Tom." Mr. WIllington's voice drew Maxwell's attention. He turned, as did his brothers. He put on the facade of the usual smile as he reached out one hand.

    "Mr. WIllington," he said. They clasped and shook hands, strong and firm, confirming their confidence and power to one another. Once released, the older man did the same to both Jeff and then Tom.

    "So how's your father?" Mr. WIllington asked.

    Maxwell shot Jeff a look, wondering how the brother would react. Ever since their dad's announcement last week, informing them of his intended marriage to a twenty-five-year old, they'd been shocked. But Tom was the most affected, since he'd thought his mother, a half-Asian beauty who only died a couple years ago from cancer. After all, they'd known how much their old man loved and cherished her for the last twenty-five years.    

    But then no one could stop the man from falling in love again, even at fifty-eight and retired. The fact taht he'd only seen the young woman twice, according to their very reliable source, Mike, their dad's chauffeur, didn't dampen the old man's enthusiasm either. And Tom's rage against the outrageous notion certainly wouldn't stop the planned ceremony that, Maxwell had no doubt, would take place in the near future. She'd be wife number four. A twenty-five-year-old woman would be their stepmother.

    Just like Tom said...It's f****d up! So f****d up.    

    "Good," Maxwell said to Mr. Willington. "He's good."

    "It's unfortunate he couldn't come," Mr. WIllington replied. "Maria would have been pleased." At this comment, he eyed his wife on the other side of the ballroom, chatting with a group of people. "But never mind." He smiled. "Shall we go to my office?"

    Maxwell smiled and nodded curtly.        

    The discussion went as planned, and by the end of that short, unplanned session, an unofficial business contract between the Michael's and the Willington's was sealed.    

    It was an hour later, and James stood alone on the balcony and looked out at the beautiful city below-a scene he was used to and quite tired of-when Whitney approached him.

    "Hello, Maxwell," She greeted. 

    Irritation burst within him immediately. He was pissed she was disturbing  his peace, and he didn't bother to hid it. Reluctantly, he turned his attention to her, a dark scowl on his face, "What the f**k do you want?"

    She just stood there and shrugged her slender shoulders very elegantly. She leaned closer than he liked , she was touching his arm, lightly but intimately, like she used to do when they were married. HE used to love it when she touched him. But after witnessing her touching another man, caressing his fleshing and stroking his d**k, it was quite different. To him she is nothing more than a two bit w***e. Things were different when he seen her with this guy. She wasn't all over him like she was the other guys that he had seen her with. He couldn't remember any of the other guys names especially the one that he caught her cheating on him with. It had been a blur to Maxwell since the accidental but yet on purpose discovery. She never expected him to come home early from his business trips cause he would always come home later than planned. He remembered the feeling of shock and the anger and disbelief that his wife was f*****g another man in their home. Well, her home now.

    A sting of disgust burned his arm where she had her hand, and the urge hit him to shove her away was very strong but he was a man and one of the things he dad had always taught him and his brother was to respect a woman whether she deserved it or not. 

    "Don't you miss this?" she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

    Irritation surged stronger through his veins, and his blood started to boil. He couldn't stand it anymore. He propelled her off him and took a step back. "What the f**k are you doing?"

    "I thought you missed me as much as I miss you," she said, giving him that beautiful smile of hers that used to bring him to his knees. But not any longer. Now he only felt disgusted by it. 

    He folded his arms across his chest and chose the subject he needed to discuss with her the most. "Are you planning on seeing Amelia?"

    At the mention of their daughter., she became agitated. "Well, you know, it's better I don't see her...yet"

    "For f**k's sake, Whitney, give your own daughter some of your time. It's been three years." 

    He hated to say the next sentence, because to be honest, he didn't want Amelia to see Whitney, a mother who didn't give a s**t about her own daughter. A mother who'd rather run off with a man she'd been f*****g than to stay with her own six-year-old who cried and begged for her. But his heart hurt like hell when he saw Amelia so wounded every time he told her Whitney wouldn't be able to come.

    "She misses you."    

    Whitney frowned and snapped, "She was only six. She can't remember much of me."

    Her words pissed him off. He had to take a deep breath to calm the wrath that slowly building inside him.

    "She won't remember you at all if you don't make any effort to see her," he said coldly. He no longer wanted to be there, no longer wanted to be near the woman who had cheated on him-since the beginning of their relationship. He turned on his heel and walked away.

    "Maxwell, wait!"

    "Whitney," he said harshly over his shoulder, "get your life straightened out and then come and see our daughter once in a while."

    Back in the ballroom where billionaires and millionaires mingled, Maxwell headed straight to his brothers.

    "I'm leaving," he said.

    Jeff eyed the balcony Maxwell had just left and he saw Whitney there. He understood. "Kiss Amelia for me," he said.    

    "Me, too," Tom chimed in. "And tell her I already miss her."

    Maxwell laughed. The two were smitten with their niece, of course. Thank God the little darling wasn't one bit like her mother, both in character and looks. Amelia was a Michael through and through. She took after Maxwell in every possible way, and he loved her for that. Hell, he just loved her regardless. She was everything to him, and he loved her for that. Hell, he just loved her regardless. She was everything to him, and knew she wouldn't disappoint him like her mother had, throwing away his love like she did her no-longer-desired shoes or dresses.

    f**k! Love was meant to be unconditional. A mutual feeling shared between two people, between husband and wife , that lasted 'til death do us part. Not something to be taken lightly and discarded without a second thought. 

    At the door, he glanced once more at Whitney and then left.

    A sense of relief swept through him the moment he slid into his black Ferrari. Switching on the engine, the music blared into the confined space. Putting the gear on reverse, he whipped out of the parking space, then exited the Willington estate.