Chapter 1
Moxley
He hated traffic with every fiber in his being, with the fire of a thousand burning signs, destroying everything in their path until nothing’s left but ashes.
Actually, wait, hate wasn’t strong enough for how he felt; the domino effect of traffic leading him to somewhere was something he despised even more.
Loathed was better, and it packed an extra kind of punch, the kind reserved for situations like this.
He was going to be late.
With both hands firmly on the steering wheel, Bon Jovi blasting through the car’s speakers, he tried to relax, to think of something other than the fact that he was not going to make it on time.
His brother, Phoenix, was going to have his head.
On a pike.
Displayed on the front gates for the entire company to see, medieval style, and he couldn’t even say he’d blamed him. After all, it was entirely his fault that he was running late, or at least the redhead that he left in bed this morning.
Being CEO of Denton Enterprises offered him many perks, cars, money, and the attention of a rotating plethora of beautiful and charming women, but unfortunately, it didn’t offer him any kind of immunity when it came to his siblings. Either of them.
At the end of the day, though he sat at the head of the table, they each owned controlling shares in the company, ensuring each and every one of them had an equal amount of power and influence.
A smart move on his father’s part, recognizing that he didn’t want his children to be at each other’s throats. Instead, he made sure that, business-wise at least, they were united in a common goal, seeing the company flourish, a dragon among men.
Naturally, it hadn’t all been smooth sailing, far from it. In fact, it had taken them entirely too long to be able to agree on which direction the company should be taking once their father stepped down as CEO.
As the oldest, Moxley had trained his whole for it, the moment he would step up and take his rightful place as the leader and face of the company, so he’d been shocked when his siblings didn’t fall into line, preferring to have an active role rather than a quiet one.
Moxley loved his siblings; it was never about that, but it didn’t mean he wanted to run a company with them, not when the three of them were as different as night and day. Luckily, Indiana seemed to gravitate more towards a quiet role, only pitching in when something was big whereas Phoenix had decided on a more hands-on approach, making his presence in the company known, generally a thorn in Moxley’s side, often acting like an insufferable know it all.
What was the saying?
Business made for strange bedfellows.
He drummed his fingers against the wheel and checked the watch, letting out a stream of colorful curse words as he pressed his fingers to the pedal, hoping for some kind of miracle to get there on time.
As things stood, it was highly unlikely especially with the cars coming to a complete stop. Soon enough, he had to slow his car down, his knuckles turning white with effort. He heaved a deep breath and pried his fingers away, a hot blast of air blowing through him.
Moxley frowned and hit the button, allowing the car to make a swishing noise as the cover came back up, encasing him, so he wasn’t exposed to the heavy smog settling over the city.
Around him, people were at their wit’s end, pressing their hands to the honk and refusing to release, a cacophony that rose and swell, so he had to turn up the music to drown it out.
“Elisabeth.”
“Mr. Denton,” Elisabeth greeted, her smooth voice filling up the spaces in his car, soft and alluring. “How may I help you?”
“Can you please inform my brother that I’m stuck in traffic and will be running late?”
“Of course, Mr. Denton. I’ll also have your coffee ready for you by the time you’re out,” Elisabeth added, practically purring.
He wasn’t under any delusions regarding his assistant’s intentions. To her credit, she didn’t try to hide her true nature when it came to him, taking every opportunity available to throw herself at him, staying late in the office and finding excuses just to touch him.
It was flattering, and she was incredibly attractive, but he made it a point not to get involved with anyone he worked with, bypassing all the unnecessary drama altogether.
“Maybe a muffin, too,” Moxley mused.
“Aren’t you supposed to be staying in shape?” Elisabeth asked, thinly veiled distaste coloring her tone.
“Yes, I am, but one can’t hurt. Blueberry, please. Thank you, Elisabeth.”
With that, he hung up, not wanting to hear the derision and judgment in her tone. Elisabeth was great at her job, positioning herself, so she was indispensable to him, but it didn’t mean she didn’t get under his skin.
Granted, she knew how to reign it in, observing the warning signals and backing off when she needed, but still. He had too much on his plate, and the last thing he wanted was to add an irate assistant to the list, on top of everything else.
Today’s meeting had been a long time coming, one of the few things the three could actually agree on. Between Phoenix’s practicality, and Moxley’s big dreams, it hadn’t been easy, and it was Indiana who suggested it, knowing exactly what to do to bring her brothers together.
It was time to expand, so Denton Enterprises was no longer just a software company, a multimedia conglomerate with ties in every major market. Now, it was time to take it a step further and take a plunge, a leap of faith into the unknown.
Publishing.
A risky but lucrative endeavor, one that promised to be incredibly fruitful should it pan out. Unfortunately, they hadn’t been able to nail the right PR person until now.
She better be damn good.
***
The tires screeched against the pavement, and he leaped out, flinching as the gleamed in front of him, casting long shadows across the floor, all towering metal. He tossed the keys to the valet, his jacket thrown carelessly over his arm. He flew past the front doors, greeting several people on his way, his eyes narrowing in on the elevator.
Almost there. Come on, step on it.
His shoes slapped against the marble, echoing loudly, gaining the attention of several people who craned their necks to look, surprised to see the CEO tearing past them like a tornado, possessed in his frenzy.
Later, he’d probably laugh about it, but for now, he needed to cover the distance, and he only had a few seconds to do it. He was going as fast as his legs allowed, long strides, but it wasn’t enough.
Clusters of people were spread out, making it harder for him to navigate as he weaved in and out of them, the din of conversation barely registering as anything more than background noise.
Finally.
The elevator was in sight, his heart thudding steadily inside his chest. Ahead of him, a petite blonde came out of nowhere and stepped onto the elevator, leaning forward to hit the button.
He waved his arms frantically, gesturing for her to hold the doors, but she glanced down, her phone in hand. Her fingers danced across the keyboard, and her blonde hair fell forward, covering half her face.
Look the fuck up. I just need you to hold them open for one second. Jesus!
Adrenaline flooded through him, pushing him the last few steps, close enough he could almost feel the whoosh, the familiar ping as the elevator doors closed behind him, briefcase and jacket tow.
In slow motion, he watched, eyes wide as saucers as the doors began to close, his window of opportunity rapidly slipping him by. He skidded to a halt just as they swung shut, barely avoiding a head-on collision.
Moxley made a low frustrated
noise into the back of his hand and raked his other through his hair, making it stand up in out of control messy strands instead of the careful mess he was going for.
At this point, he didn’t care because he was running out of options, and he could just picture his brother, a younger identical-looking version of him, tapping his feet impatiently, his mouth pressed into a line, and disapproval written all over his features.
All Phoenix needed was the steam coming out of his ears, and the picture would be complete. He snorted in amusement as the image flitted through his mind then the smile fell from his face.
Okay, he could take the stairs.
He ducked his head to the side, mentally calculating the distance. Yes, it was true he kept in shape, making it a point to work out every day, regardless of how mentally exhausted he was, in part because it kept him healthy, and the other part was to blow off steam.
In the gym, it was just him and the machines.
He was not Moxley Denton, CEO of Denton Enterprises. Instead, he was just another man in track pants, shorts and a shirt, with sweat rolling down his body, and one goal in mind.
Fitness.
Most of all, he liked the calm that settled over him after he was done, with energy coursing through him, and his muscles straining with effort, the high wasn’t like anything else, and he enjoyed it immensely.
Yes, he was in shape, but no, he wasn’t stupid.
He’d never be able to make it up two hundred floors without crumpling to a heap once he finally made it to the top, and that’s if he made it that far. He was ambitious, but he was also realistic.
With that thought in mind, he scrapped the idea and jabbed the button for the elevator, leveling it with a dirty look, in the hopes that it would make somehow make the elevator go faster.
While waiting, he slid his jacket on and did up two buttons in the center, bringing the briefcase up to check on the papers. He spotted the tie left behind, a gift from his brother, no doubt and grimaced, pushing it away.
No, he was not going to put on that dog collar.
He was well aware that it was meant to make him look distinguished, a man in charge, who knew how to take control, but there were other days he could do that, and a piece of fabric around his neck just wasn’t going to cut it for him.
Phoenix would get over it because short of wrestling him to the ground and forcing it around Moxley’s neck, it just wasn’t going to happen.
Five minutes ticked by, agonizingly slow, each second stretching out, so it felt like an eternity, and he resisted the urge to jab the button repeatedly, knowing it would do nothing except aggravate him further.
That wasn’t a solution.
Instead, he whipped out his phone and scanned the notes he made, committing them to memory until the elevator made that familiar noise, and the doors swung open, admission, at long last.
He stepped in and pressed the one-hundredth floor.
Moxley was about to pull his finger away but then decided not to, holding the button to make sure there were no more delays. There were several other elevators in the building, so it wasn’t as if this was going to be the end of the line for some people.
If they wanted this one, they were just going to have to wait.
He was late enough as it was, and he didn’t feel like squeezing himself in while the elevator made several stops till it reached his destination. His mouth moved, humming quietly as the elevator rose steadily, bringing him closer and closer.
Ping.
Sometimes, it paid to be the boss.
Chapter 2
Sawyer
Yes, she felt bad, and maybe a little guilty, but she also knew that, in life, sometimes she would have to do things she didn’t particularly like, just to stay ahead of the game.
In this case, it meant not holding the door open for the guy, in spite of noticing the panicked look on his face, and his harried manner.
She’d make up for it, later. Once she made sure everything went according to plan. There was plenty of time to beat herself up about it, and she would get to it.
But, she figured God would cut her some slack.
It was her first day, and she couldn’t miss the meeting with the partners; it had been drilled into her for the past two weeks, a mantra repeating itself over and over, making her twitch and sending her insides into a frenzy.
Sure, she was nervous, but she knew it was temporary. After all, she had no reason to be because she knew what she was doing.
It was a dog eat dog world, and she had no intention of being the prey, not with the amount of work she had to put in, all that hustling just to make it to where she was, with a long line of people trying to undercut her success, or put her down.
Well, she proved them all wrong.
Sawyer Tipton had spent most of her life being told what she couldn’t do, first as a woman, and second as a small one to boot. Her mother was convinced that she was going to go into a career that involved bright lights and plenty of press.
Her father wasn’t any different.
Needless to say, both of them were quite disappointed when she decided to go to business school, and not something a bit more glamorous. Most parents wanted their children to go into a practical field, something that offered them stability and peace of mind; architect, doctor, engineer, etc.
Her parents, on the other hand, were quite adamant that she should pursue something glamorous, allowing her to be put on the map, to reap the benefits of being a celebrity with a charmed life.
Naturally, her parents would have benefitted from that too, just by association.
In their own way, they meant well, but the harder they tried to get her interested in make-up, clothes, and the like, the more she rebelled, refusing to wear anything resembling a skirt for an entire year.
Obviously, she’d driven them insane, causing them to shake their heads at her in exasperation, perhaps wondering where they went wrong with her. To their credit, they never said anything explicitly, not to her face anyway, and they did try to be supportive.
It was something at least, but she knew that, as far as expectations went, she did fall short literally and proverbially.
After all, she’d started working for a company that handled PR, and it was pretty nitty-gritty, to her at least. She spent long hours, hunched over her desk, trying to handle other people’s problems, either by sweeping them under the rug or spinning the story to suit their own purposes.
In reality, she was quite good at it, discovering a knack for stories from a fairly early age, and it was the perfect fit for her. Very few people liked to clean up after others, but Sawyer wasn’t one of them.
She made sure she rose to the occasion every single time.
Even with all the insecurity, clinging to her like a second skin, and the voices of all the people who ever doubted her, crowding around, clamoring to be heard. She ignored it all and made it to the top, pouring her blood, sweat and tears.
Finally, she could say with all honesty, that she made it.
A straight shot to Denton Enterprises.
She got to have her cake and eat it too.
Denton Enterprises was a huge win for her, one she pulled in herself, and she knew her boss would be thrilled if she managed to bring in this particular client, a force to be reckoned with.
The company was legendary, with its founder, Jackson Denton being the stuff of legends. A man who came to America with a big dream and nothing but the clothes on his back. Nobody was entirely sure how he did it, but within a few short years, he managed to create something, a contender.
Years later, it was an empire, run by kids who were groomed to take over.
Yes, Sawyer had done her research, finding that it was better to be prepared and know everything there was to know rather than walking in blind and being caught off guard. She had every intention to impress them, to leave them staring at her with a sparkle in their eyes, recognition.
And she knew just how to do it too.
At twenty-five, she’d spent most of her early years scrounging, struggling to make ends meet dreaming of this day, tall buildings and towers, marble floors and high ceilings, the smell of expensive perfume lingering in the air, her heels clicking on the floor, striding with confidence and purpose.
She might not have every single thing down what with the delay in her morning routine, but at least everything else was the same, exactly as she imagined down to the expensive Persian carpets, carrying a subtle oriental smell.
The elevator finally stopped, and stepped out, moving the strap up her shoulder. She tried not to stare as she hurried forward, spotting the receptionist behind the huge circular desk, nothing but a face with a headphone.
“Good morning. Can I help you?”
“Good morning. Yes, I’m Sawyer Tipton,” she replied. “I believe the partners are expecting me.”
Recognition dawned on the receptionist’s face, and she pushed the microphone away from her and stood up, towering over Sawyer even from behind the desk, a vision in heels.
“That’s the conference room right there.” She pointed at a glass room, overlooking the San Francisco bay, wisps of white of fog rolling in. She could say, with complete honesty, that she never got tired of watching the city, her city, the Golden Gate Bridge stretched out, and a monument to the people, a testament to their resilience, and their ability to get things regardless of what it took.
Mesmerized by the view and drawn in by it, she took a step forward till her face was a breath away from the glass, glancing down at the dots moving around on the street, people going to and from work, another day beginning.
The building itself overlooked the bay, its calm crystalline water flowing and ebbing, taking and giving in equal measure, still and silent, a reminder of the beauty the city possessed.
Sawyer felt a lot like the city she lived in, filled to the brim with potential, working herself to the bone every day, but often overlooked in favor of brighter and flashier.
Yes, she knew they lived in a world where materialism mattered, and a lot of the times, it was all about you how looked rather than what you brought to the table, but she liked to think the value of hard work could still be appreciated, with the right people of course.
Billionaire: A Billionaire Boys Club novel Page 1