LOGINValerie Sinclair had never believed in ambushes that came with linen napkins and crystal stemware, yet here she was.The private dining room at Hôtel de Crillon glowed with candlelight and quiet menace, gold accents catching the flame like secrets that didn’t want to stay buried. The Eclipse board had chosen this place deliberately, because of its historical background and exclusivity. Valerie entered last, as always, with a forced smiled.Conversation faltered, not stopped, just paused, the moment she stepped inside. She had that commanding effect as she walked into a room. Her silk dress was the colour of midnight, not seductive, not alluring, professional and commanding, just like her aura. Her hair was pulled back enhancing her bare neck.Sebastian stood near the far end of the table in his perfectly tailored, charcoal suit, his posture suggestive of how he owned every space he occupied. He was in the middle of a conversation with two board members, glass in hand, smiling just e
Paris woke up to blood in the water. The headline dropped at exactly 06:12 a.m., timed for maximum damage.FASHION MOGUL VALERIE SINCLAIR REUNITES WITH EX?INSIDE THE DANGEROUS HISTORY BEHIND ECLIPSE’S POWER CO-LEADSBy the time Valerie’s phone started vibrating nonstop, the article had already been mirrored, dissected, and monetized across every fashion blog, gossip column, and finance platform that mattered.She read it once. Then again. By the third time, her grip on the phone was white-knuckled.It wasn’t explicit. That was the genius of it. No confirmations. No denials. Just suggestion. Carefully curated photos from seven years ago. Cropped images of proximity. A timeline reconstructed with surgical malice. Enough truth to feel real. Enough omission to let the world fill in the gaps.She exhaled slowly through her nose, the way she did before killing a deal. “This wasn’t a leak,” she said aloud to the empty penthouse. “This was a strike.”Her assistant Mia was already calling. V
The Eclipse Project Council chamber was designed to intimidate.Glass walls curved like a crown around the top floor of the Parisian tower, framing the city as if it existed solely to bear witness to the decisions made inside. The table was obsidian-black, polished to a mirror finish, long enough to seat kings, queens, and the people who controlled them. Power lived here. Deals that reshaped industries were born and buried in this room.Valerie Sinclair entered without pause.The doors hadn’t even finished closing behind her before the room subtly shifted, heads turning, breaths catching, attention recalibrating. She wore ivory silk and quiet menace, hair pulled back with surgical precision, heels striking marble with confidence sharpened by years of conquest. This wasn’t her first council, but it was her first Eclipse council, and everyone knew it.She didn’t acknowledge the stares. She never did. Valerie Sinclair didn’t arrive to be admired, she arrived to dominate.Sebastian was al
Sebastian Hart moved through the vaulted glass lobby of Hartstone Agency like a predator on a mission. The polished floors reflected his sharp Oxfords, the angular cut of his suit, the meticulous control he exuded. Cameras tracking arrivals, assistants hovering, phones buzzing, butcnone of it distracted him. He had always been the storm behind the glass. Unseen, unshakable, untouchable.His office awaited, perched on the forty-second floor, panoramic view of L A stretching into a gold-tinged horizon, but the city below, glittering, chaotic, hungry, was nothing compared to the storm that brewed behind his eyes. He had returned from a business trip hours ago, and the echoes of Eclipse, of Valerie, of the conversation that had left both of them unshaken yet electrified, still hovered in the air around him.He let the elevator doors close with a soft chime and exhaled, a controlled release that betrayed nothing. Everything in his world had a place, a purpose, a schedule. Everything except
Valerie’s Ferrari Roma cut through the morning traffic like a blade, scarlet paint gleaming under the rising sun as it pulled into the private underground entrance of Sinclair Empire headquarters. The security gates slid open before the engine had even settled, sensors recognizing her arrival, the building itself responding like a loyal subject welcoming its queen home.Valerie stepped out without waiting for the valet. Black heels struck concrete with lethal precision. Her posture was immaculate, chin high, shoulders squared, every inch of her radiating controlled fury.Word had already spread.The moment she entered the private elevator, messages began lighting up internal channels. Assistants straightened. Executives silenced conversations mid-sentence. Designers froze where they stood, sketchpads forgotten, because Valerie Sinclair angry was rarerity, and her being focused was terrifying.By the time the elevator doors opened onto the executive floor, her rage had sharpened into s
Sebastian Hart’s gaze didn’t waver, not once. It was the same calm, piercing look that had once undone her completely, the same eyes that could see through every carefully constructed wall she had built over seven long years.“Someone is framing me,” Valerie whispered, her voice tight, brittle, yet sharp enough to cut glass.Hart’s jaw tightened. “Framing you?” His voice dropped, serious, low, dangerous. “Valerie, if anyone thinks they can touch you, they’re about to find out what that really means.”She stared at him, every nerve on fire. “You don’t get it. This isn’t just someone leaking rumors. This is a full-scale attack. On my empire. On me. On you, by proxy.”His lips twitched in that infuriating, half-smile. “On me?”“Yes, on you, too.” Her voice hit a growl. “Because this partnership? They expect us to crumble in the public eye, and if they succeed, it’ll be catastrophic.”Hart’s eyes darkened, the kind of storm that had made her knees go weak years ago. “Then we make them reg







