But once everything had been finalized, he was always able to very quickly and firmly detach himself.
If any of his lovers showed a tendency to cling and become possessive, he suddenly became far too busy with ‘work’ to be able to take their calls—they soon got the message. A new client, a new lover—it was time for Max to move on.
The affair with Justine, because of the extremely complex nature of her husband’s financial affairs and the huge amount of money potentially involved, had lasted considerably longer than usual, and as yet Justine’s husband had not been served with any divorce papers.
‘I’ve got at least two friends who got damn all out of their ex’s,’ Justine had told Max, showing him her expensive dental work in a very sharp, foxy smile.
‘I have no intention of allowing that to happen to me. Here is a list of the assets I intend to make a claim on,’ she had told Max, handing him an impressively long typed schedule.
They had been lovers for more than two months, and Max had to admit that he was impressed. He doubted that Justine had a single ounce of emotional vulnerability in her entire make-up. She was one of the most sexually demanding women he had ever had, abandoning herself completely and totally to the sexual act and not allowing him to stop until she was completely and utterly satisfied. But once she was, she was immediately and instantly back in control; her mind, her brain, were as sharp and dangerous as an alligator’s teeth.
Her husband would be lucky to escape with even half of his fortune intact, Max had decided as he listened to her plans for using her knowledge of his tax affairs to blackmail him into settling and giving her what she wanted.
‘I don’t intend to file for divorce until after this new deal he’s working on has gone through,’ she had told Max candidly. ‘It’s worth almost five hundred million, and I want to make sure I get my share of it.’
‘Look. I … I can’t talk now,’ he heard her saying quickly to him now. ‘I’ll meet you tomorrow. I’ll come round to your place….’
She had rung off before Max could object, leaving him angrily aware of his sexual frustration and even more importantly, with a sharp sense of unease.
It was going on for two o’clock in the morning, but he felt too restless for sleep. Max’s instinct for survival was very acute and very finely tuned. It had had to be. As his grandfather’s favourite he had spent his growing years fighting off any potential claims on his position from his siblings and cousins, and as a young adult he had had to strive to maintain that position.
Now that he was married to Madeleine, his grandfather’s favour didn’t matter in quite the same way. Madeleine’s trust funds were worth considerably in excess of his grandfather’s assets, but it wasn’t just the desire for wealth that drove Max. He had another need that in its way was just as intense, and that need was to stand apart from his peers, to set himself above them, to be envied by them. Friendship, affection, love, none of these interested Max nor mattered to him.
Supremacy, that was what Max craved. Supremacy and the security that came with it. The supremacy of being the best divorce barrister, the best QC, the best head of chambers in the best set of chambers. In Max’s opinion, there were two ways to gain those goals. The first was through merit and skill, the second—sometimes the more subtle—was an underhanded method of gaining power, which made its acquisition all the sweeter. To emerge as top dog was important when others had openly derided one’s fitness for such a role.
It had amused him recently to bump into Roderick Hamilton, the barrister who had beaten him on a vacancy they had both applied for in his last set of chambers and who had none too subtly crowed his victory over him.
Max had invited Roderick to join him for a drink and over it had encouraged him to talk about himself. He had learned that Roderick had married somebody from the county set, the lower echelons of the upper classes of whose acquaintanceship he had once boasted to Max.
His wife, to judge from the photograph he had shown Max, was the plain horsy type, and no, they had no children as yet … but they were trying…. His dream, it turned out, was to buy himself a small country house.
‘But they’re so damned expensive, old chap, and Lucinda’s wretched horses cost the earth to keep.’
Max had smiled and casually mentioned his own two children. Maddy’s grandparents’ family seat was also dropped into the conversation along with references to its history and its decor; not too much, just enough to ensure that Roderick realized that he, Max, was living the life-style that the other man so desperately wanted, that he had fathered the children that Roderick so far had not.
And sweetest of all had been when he had given him a lift home in his new Bentley, to coolly refuse the invitation extended for him and Maddy to join Roderick and his wife ‘for supper one evening.’
‘’Fraid no can do, old chap,’ Max had told him, giving him his crocodile smile. ‘We’re pretty fully booked right now.’
Revenge indeed.
Max couldn’t really remember when he had first discovered this power he had within himself to hurt others. What he could remember, though, was the sickening sense of anger and fear he had felt when he had once overheard his father and his uncle David talking about him.
He had been about ten at the time and already feeling the effects of Louise and Katie’s arrival on his relationship with his parents. Max had never been the kind of child who liked being held or touched. Even before he could walk he had wriggled out of the reach of adults who would have picked him up and fussed over him, resenting, too, his cousin Olivia’s challenging presence in the arena of his life. Olivia, who was always cuddling up to his mother. Olivia, whom his mother seemed to like more than she liked him.
‘You’ve got a fine boy there,’ he could remember hearing his uncle David say enviously to his father. ‘The old man thinks I’m letting the side down by not giving him a grandson. Mind you, I’ve got to say, Jon, that you and Jenny don’t seem to realize just how lucky you are.
‘If Max was mine … Perhaps he should have been mine,’ David had said very softly. ‘Dad certainly seems to think so. He says that Max is far more like me than you. You know, Jon, sometimes it seems to me that you and Jenny don’t like your son very much.’
The two men had moved out of earshot before Max could hear any more. What had his uncle David meant? Why didn’t his parents like him?
Deliberately Max had begun to test them, anxious to discover if what his uncle David had said was the truth.
He asked for a new bicycle and he was told he couldn’t have one, but the twins were given new tricycles for their birthday.
Max had ‘borrowed’ one of them, and when it had ‘accidentally’ been pushed under the wheels of a delivery van and smashed, he had told his stern, grave-eyed father that he hadn’t meant to push the bike, he had just let go of it at the wrong time.
The other tricycle had mysteriously disappeared, and when questioned about it Max had stubbornly refused to say a word.
His sharp eyes began to notice how much more time his mother spent with the twins than she did with him, how much more fuss she made of Olivia.
He told her that he didn’t want her to take him to school any more and that he was going to ask his grandfather to tell uncle David to take him. This was despite the fact that more often
