Craving Justice (Sons of Sydney Book 1)

by Fiona Archer

  Craving Justice

  Sons of Sydney, Book 1

  Fiona Archer

  Craving Justice

  Sons of Sydney, Book1

  Fiona Archer

  Published by Fiona Archer

  Copyright 2016 Fiona Archer

  Edited by Red Quill Editing LLC

  eBook ISBN: 978-0-9945764-0-8

  Book cover design by Hang Le

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.

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  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Let me start by thanking my amazing readers. The journey to getting Sons of Sydney out to my lovelies has been one hell of a ride, including a serious illness that derailed my original schedule for publication. But here we are now and you’re about to starting reading.

  I can’t wait to hear what you think of Seth and Harper’s story.

  And to that end, I have a few more people to thank.

  To Chloe Vale, who is always there to take my calls and provide answers to my questions with a cheerful voice. I couldn’t have started this journey towards self-publishing without your help, sweetie. Also, a big thank you to Dylan for his super formatting skills.

  Thank you to Saya from Red Quill Editing for keeping my “thens” under control, and then putting order into my chaos.

  Thank you to the fabulous Hang Le, whose patience knows no bounds—though I’m sure I tested her limits—as we worked up the design concept for Sons of Sydney. Your creative genius shines so bright, Hang.

  To the most amazing beta readers: Cherise Sinclair, Monette Michaels, Sali (with one L) Powers, Karen Roma, and Liz Berry. I’m blessed to have such fabulous people to gently guide me (i.e. kick my bottom) in writing the best story I can. A special mention to Liz Berry, who demanded my heroes in this series be Aussies (backed up by Cherise). You win, Liz.

  The idea for this book came when I was thinking about the strays of this world—animals and people alike—who all have a story to tell and how their lives could be changed by the chance meeting of someone who could offer them a home, love and a fresh start.

  So this book is dedicated to my Letty, a terrier mix who I found at the local animal shelter and adopted. Smart, sweet-natured but oh-so timid, she soon learned that with a bit of faith and a heap of love anyone could find their rightful home. I am honored to have been your human, sweetie. Your memory lives forever in my heart.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  About Fiona Archer

  Other Books by Fiona Archer

  CHAPTER ONE

  Ten minutes. That’s all he needed.

  The deal of Seth Justice’s lifetime was so close he could taste it—the way any red blooded male could taste a giant steak sizzling on a grill after a week held prisoner in a vegetarian health retreat.

  So fucking close.

  But the payoff could vanish with one tiny blunder.

  Never show the bastards fear. His adopted brother Adam’s voice played in his head.

  As teenagers, Adam had drilled those words into Seth. It was their mantra as, with two other rejects from broken homes, they’d battled gangs and criminals to survive on the streets of Sydney.

  Back then, the four of them were tight. A band of brothers. Now it was…different.

  Seth’s chest ached as past regrets knifed deep. If he could make this deal come together then maybe—

  “You’ve reviewed our initial offer?” Impatience edged the other male’s voice, interrupting Seth’s thoughts.

  Concentrate fucker or regrets are all you’ll have left.

  Seth kept his gaze trained on the silver-haired man opposite the glass topped desk and ignored the view of downtown Seattle visible through Brooke-Porter Digital’s floor-to-ceiling windows. “I have, Mr. Fox. Your bid’s attractive.”

  Jesus, did he just equate a fifty million dollar payout for his phone app design business as attractive? He’d always been able to bullshit with the best of them—his special skill as a runaway.

  Seth battled to get comfy in the confines of the chrome and black leather visitor’s chair. The testament to stylish office décor was far too small for someone weighing a couple of hundred pounds or for anyone larger than six feet. Did corporate types only come in economy sizes?

  Stanton Fox’s brown eyes narrowed. “Who else has spoken to you?”

  “A few parties.” Three, but none had matched Brooke-Porter Digital’s offer. Not even close.

  “And they want a deal, too.” The CEO ran a hand over his tailored grey suit jacket, revealing manicured fingernails. Figured. Seth ran the tip of a finger over the straight edge of one of his nails. Image counted, but he was no show pony. And he’d rather swallow glass than use gel in his brown hair.

  Fox continued. “Your product is popular, especially with the lucrative phone and tablet market. The perfect fit with our business.” He stared back at Seth. “Let’s not waste each other’s time. You’re here because you like our offer. I want to close the deal.”

  “I’m all for direct speaking.” Seth rested his clasped hands over his flat abdomen.

  “Yes, you Australians are known for your”—Stanton’s patrician features stretched as he attempted a smile—“bluntness. It’s refreshing, and fits with the story behind your upbringing.”

  Seth shrugged. “I’m proud of where I come from and what my brothers and I have achieved.” Nothing came without effort. Every step of the way, they’d left a trail of their sweat and blood to mark their journey.

  “So you should be, Seth.” Stanton acknowledged with a nod. “Four runaways meeting on the streets and banding together then getting adopted by a wealthy, influential American is an extraordinary tale.”

  “The reality isn’t the movie script you’re thinking.” Talk of his past was overrated. Some turned it into a version of Oliver Twist on steroids. “My eldest brother, Adam, saved the life of an American tourist. His mum was grateful. Got to know us. A year later, we were living in the US.”

  Not quite the whole story, but Seth could hardly admit that he, Adam, Zach, and Heath had been hanging around Bondi Beach looking for naive tourists who’d left their wallets on their towels before enjoying a dip in the ocean.

  A bad wave had dumped one of those tourists, Dillon Justice. Seth and his fellow delinquents had witnessed the teenager being taken under by the churning waters. Adam, their leader, had raced into the sea, using his rugby player size and strength to rescue the skinny young man and drag him to the beach. With Zach’s hel
p, they’d managed to breathe life back into Dillon as the kid’s mum and the lifeguards reached their small huddle.

  Seth could still remember Aurora Justice’s crushing grip on his arm as he’d used all of his fifteen-year-old strength to hold her back so Adam and Zach could perform their miracle. She’d cried and done deals with God, promising her own life if He’d spare her son.

  How could they have known that, years later, God would hold her to her word?

  Bitterness formed like a stone in the pit of his stomach. Seth swallowed against the gravel-rough lump jammed in his throat and forced himself to stay on track.

  “I think you’re underselling your story.” Stanton’s gaze turned watchful. “Take for example the name of your company. Shazad.” Fox stated the name and looked at Seth expectantly.

  “The name’s derived from the first initial of each member of my family; Seth, Heath, Adam, Zach, Aurora and Dillon.”

  I note of satisfaction entered Fox’s voice. “That’s what I mean when I talk about a story. You’ll appreciate I had your background researched. Our company prefers to know exactly who we’re dealing with.”

  “Likewise.” Seth returned Stanton’s stare. “I won’t sell a business I’ve built from scratch based solely on the sale price.” It was one hell of a sweetener, but people’s livelihoods were at stake. “Brooke-Porter Digital’s record in previous buyouts often included an assurance of continued employment for staff who chose to remain. That’s missing from your offer.” Crunch time. “My staff’s expertise helped make Shazad what it is. Without their knowledge, you’re squandering a vital asset.”

  “There are plenty of designers around, Seth.”

  “I chose those people because they were the best at making cutting edge apps nobody else had.”

  “And soon, another group of people will have a different take. New talent isn’t hard to find when you know what you’re looking for.”

  What was this guy’s game? He wanted to have a pissing contest to see who blinked first? Enough of this back and forth dance. “What do you want?”

  Fox leaned into his chair like a king on a throne as he pronounced judgment over his subjects. “All employees must sign a noncompete clause, which will be invoked if they terminate their employment.”

  “For how long a term?”

  “Two years.”

  “Make it one year, and restrict it to me and my brother, Dillon. I was the principal designer for the original apps. As President and Dillon as Vice President, we’d be leaving anyway, but this reinforces your protection.” Seth held the man’s stare, watching the way Fox’s jaw hardened.

  “I don’t think—”

  “The courts don’t always uphold those clauses. Companies rarely win when they try to enforce them, especially if the employee isn’t executive management. I have a staff of twenty people. How many of them do you think are top decision makers?”

  Fox stayed quiet. Seth ignored the panicked voice in his head howling for him to shut the fuck up and accept Fox’s terms. This was about more than Seth. He couldn’t screw his employees in the deal.

  The older man lifted his chin. “Two years. Just you and your brother.”

  Fine, for fifty mil, he and Dillon could find other ways to occupy their time for an extra twelve months. “Done.”

  Stanton Fox rang through to his secretary to make the amendments in their Letter of Intent for Seth to sign today. The document outlined the terms and price he and Fox had agreed upon. Sure, it was non-binding, but Seth would make sure the changes were reflected in the Purchase Agreement. No changes, no final sale.

  Fox ended his call. “We’ll move forward, begin the legal searches and documentation. Progress of the sale depends upon everything being in order, including no unforeseen obstacles arising between now and then, and especially noting those that would endanger the completion of the sale. Otherwise, Brooke-Porter is free to amend their asking price as stated in the Letter of Intent and the Purchase Agreement.”

  “Your team won’t find any complications.” Seth’s company had five shareholders—him and his four brothers, including Dillon, with Seth holding the majority.

  Stanton shuffled papers into a file. “We want to get that completed as quickly as possible. Four weeks at the maximum before we sign the Agreement.”

  “That’s fast.” Not that he was complaining.

  “One of our manufacturing partners in South Korea is keen to get your apps loaded onto their latest phone before its release.”

  “Good to hear.” Seth allowed his pleasure to show with a smile. “Those apps will make a fortune for your bottom line, Stanton. I think we’ll both come out satisfied.” He lifted his chin. “You have an official statement ready to announce we’re in formal negotiations?”

  The CEO held out a piece of paper. “Here it is. We emailed it to Dillon. Unfortunately, you’d already left for our meeting. He said you might have some suggestions.” Stanton waved a hand to the side. “I think the statement is fine as is.”

  No doubt. Stanton Fox wasn’t the type of man who liked taking direction, especially from a twenty-nine-year-old ex-street kid.

  “I’ll take a look.” Seth scanned the document. Everything seemed straightforward. Dates fit. Money correct. Broad terms as agreed. So what was Dillon concerned— Ah, now he saw it.

  He dropped the sheet on Fox’s desk. “My family biography comes out. Stick with the facts.”

  Stanton shrugged. “Playing up who adopted you and how you made it to the US adds a hint of celebrity to the announcement.”

  “My brothers are private people. Their personal stories have no place in a joint company media release.” He lowered his voice as the CEO opened his mouth. “Take it out.”

  Fox’s jaw firmed. Seth was prepared to wait him out as long as needed, but in the end, the older man backed down. “Your family business, your call. We’ll make that amendment, and send out the announcement immediately.”

  It was late on Wednesday afternoon, but in this age of digital media and a twenty-four hour news cycle, the tech news sites would spread the information in no time.

  A knock at the door heralded his secretary with the updated Letter of Intent. She wore an olive green business suit that reminded Seth of a prison warden’s uniform from decades ago. All unflattering lines in a heavy tweed. With her dark hair caught back in a severe bun and a hawkish face, Seth wondered how many young executives she had scared off from her boss’s door. She handed the two-page letter to Fox, who scanned the pages and passed it over to Seth.

  He took his time checking the wording, noting from the original he’d read so many times that there were no significant lines added, just simple changes, all of which met with his approval. He signed the document and handed it to the secretary.

  “I’ll make you copies, sir.” The woman left.

  Fox walked around the desk and extended his hand.

  Seth rose to stand a good two inches taller than the older man’s six feet.

  “Glad we could make today happen.” Fox pumped Seth’s hand for emphasis. “Do you have plans for this afternoon?” At Seth’s raised brow he added, “We’re having a cocktail function downstairs, part of our sponsorship of a local sports team. Come down and have a drink.”

  “Be a pleasure.” Seth pushed back the cuff of his charcoal gray jacket and glanced at his watch. Five-thirty. “Dillon’s nearby.” As in his brother’s arse was in the building’s grand lobby, where he’d agreed to meet Seth. No doubt Dillion was pacing the floor waiting for his text. “Mind if I extend an invite?”

  “Certainly.” Fox moved to the door of his office. “Why don’t you call him while I give the amendments of the press release to my secretary? Tell him it’s the eighth floor terrace garden.”

  By the time the CEO returned, Seth had spoken to Dillon, who barely contained his yell of excitement at the good news.

  Fox called from the doorway, “All ready?”

  “Yeah, Dillon will meet us there.” He
walked with Stanton, and soon, they were downstairs, entering the lush landscaped garden with its raised beds and mature trees. Large, purple flowered bushes gave off a gorgeous scent. Lilac. It had been Aurora’s favorite flower. The corner of his mouth tipped up. The link to his adopted mum, however tenuous, seemed fitting today.

  He scanned the wooden benches and lime and white cushioned seating. No sign of Dillon. Banners displaying the logo and mascot of a football team were strategically placed on the paved floor. The hulking figures of footballers were clumped in groups around the garden, each man’s pained expression conveying his reluctance to schmooze with corporate bigwigs.

  But sponsors demanded their payback.

  Seth held back his smirk. These helmet and padding wearing sissies would have to suck it up. Gridiron? Give him a decent game of rugby any day.

  Mixed in with the players were men and women, some dressed in smart casual wear, others in suits from a day at the office. Waiters outfitted in crisp white shirts and black pants carried trays bearing assorted beverages.

  Fox grabbed himself a flute of champagne, and raised his glass. “To our exciting news.”

  Seth eyed his choices. Beer in a glass. No bottles. This was a fancy gig after all. He picked a dark ale and nodded his thanks to the waiter. “Absolutely.” He downed a mouthful of the cold liquid, enjoying its icy freshness.

  “Seth.”

  He turned at the sound of Dillon’s voice, spotting his brother’s clipped blond hair and smiling face in the crowd. Shorter than Seth by four inches, Dillon hurried over from the entrance of the garden. His hazel eyes gleamed as he slapped Seth on the back. “Awesome news, buddy.”

  “Bloody oath, mate.” Seth gripped his brother’s shoulder. Getting to this point in negotiations hadn’t been easy, and his oldest sibling had played a huge part in their success. “Stanton, you know Dillon?”