Novelas de Everesttt

Alexander’s POVRain poured against the Maybach's windshield, blurring the streetlights as we drove through the gates of Hayes Manor.No one spoke.Eleanor sat in the back, her face pressed against the cold window as she stared into the darkness. Her makeup had run, leaving gray streaks down her neck. Beside her, Vanessa huddled against the opposite door, wrapping her arms tightly around her stomach as she shivered. Every few seconds, a sob escaped her, but neither my mother nor I turned to look at her.I pulled into the circular driveway, switched off the engine, and slammed my palms against the steering wheel."Get inside," I said, my voice rough and lifeless.Eleanor remained still for several seconds. When she finally stepped out, she moved like an old woman, dragging her soaked emerald gown through the gravel without even waiting for an umbrella.Vanessa lingered in the backseat, her eyes swollen and bloodshot."Alexander... my coat is inside. It's so cold...""I said get inside,

Isabelle’s POVThe ballroom fell silent as my family reached the foot of the marble stairs.Heads of finance and commerce bowed as Mother passed. Spencer walked on my left, his presence steady and commanding, while Lyon moved with the easy confidence that made people think twice before approaching us."Look at them scrambling just to get close to you, Isabelle," Lyon murmured, taking a flute of champagne from a passing server. "Half these clowns ignored Spencer's calls when you left. Now they're practically falling over themselves to get our attention.""Let them," Spencer replied, giving a distant nod to the Federal Reserve Chairman. "Tonight isn't about them."Mother paused near the center of the ballroom and rested her emerald-clad hand on my wrist."Hold your head high, Isabelle," she said softly. "You spent seven years hiding your light for a man who could only see his own reflection. Tonight, you show this room who commands the Sinclair legacy."Across the ballroom, near a table

Alexander’s POVThe crystal chandeliers of the Grand Hyatt illuminated the ballroom, where four hundred of the state's most influential investors, banking executives, and prominent families had gathered.The clinking of champagne glasses and the music of a live string quartet filled the air, but to me, it felt like standing in a courtroom, waiting for a verdict.Beside me, my mother gripped my forearm with damp, trembling fingers. Eleanor had spent two hours in makeup trying to hide the exhaustion around her eyes. She wore an emerald satin gown that seemed too tight for her shallow breathing. Behind us, Vanessa walked slowly, clinging to my elbow in a cream maternity gown with a high neckline. Her eyes kept darting nervously across the crowd."Stand straight, Alexander," Eleanor hissed, forcing a strained smile for a passing society photographer. "If anyone asks about the stock halt, tell them it's routine restructuring ahead of our offshore expansion.""They've all read the news, Mot

Isabelle’s POVThe private penthouse office on the eighty-ninth floor of Sinclair Tower was quiet, except for the distant hum of the city below.Lancer stood beside the credenza, sliding a revised debt portfolio into a leather folder. Across the glass table, Spencer loosened his dark silk tie while Lyon leaned back in an armchair, casually tossing his silver lighter into the air.With only family and trusted counsel present, the formal corporate atmosphere began to fade."He dropped his phone," Lancer reported, his dry voice carrying a hint of amusement. "I heard it hit the marble floor before the line went dead."Lyon burst out laughing and caught his lighter. "Priceless. Alexander probably thought a little begging and an offer of fifty percent equity would have Isabelle running back into his arms."He leaned forward, his grin turning sharp. "Honestly, Isabelle, why wait thirty days? Give me the word, and I'll send our enforcement teams to act on the covenant breaches tonight. By sun

Alexander’s POVThe Mercedes Maybach hit eighty on the private mountain road before I even touched the brakes. My knuckles tightened around the steering wheel while Caleb sat beside me, staring straight ahead with his palms pressed against his knees to hide their trembling.Neither of us had spoken since leaving Sinclair Tower.My mind kept replaying fragments of memories. Isabelle in her oversized sweaters, arranging fresh flowers on the breakfast table. Isabelle quietly pouring my tea while my mother criticized her manners. Isabelle sitting alone at the drafting table late into the night, rubbing her tired eyes as she worked on the load calculations for the Grand Hayes atrium.The sole heiress of Sinclair Enterprises."It's a con," I muttered, the words scraping my throat. "It has to be. Spencer Sinclair is using her. They found out she drew the layouts and paid her to pretend she's their sister."Caleb turned toward me, his face pale. "Mr. Hayes, Lancer doesn't represent impostors.

Isabelle’s POVAlexander didn't walk out of the boardroom. He stumbled through the frosted double doors like a condemned man being led to the gallows, with Caleb trailing behind him in silent terror.As soon as the elevator doors closed, the tension in the room began to ease.Lyon let out a low chuckle and picked up his lighter from the table. "You should have seen his face when you tore those papers. The man looked like his heart had stopped beating.""He thought the universe owed him success," Spencer said, his expression returning to its usual cold composure as he closed his leather portfolio. "A man who builds his fortune on stolen labor will always panic when the real builder walks away."I leaned back in the leather chair and gazed out at the sprawling city beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.For seven years, I had stood on the balcony of Hayes Manor, watching Alexander drive away every morning to claim the spotlight. I had convinced myself that our shared dream made my own sac