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CHAPTER 10
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2026-09-24 00:01:06
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Life as a sinclair : Book 1 CHAPTER 10
Billy’s POV I grabbed my small leather toilet kit from my pocket and locked myself inside her guest bathroom. I popped open the container, slipping two pills out into my palm. It wasn't something I was proud of, nor was it something I wanted anyone in my life knowing about. I refused to let my secret health issues become my identity. I splashed cold water on my face, took a deep breath, and tossed the pills into my mouth. Just as I raised a glass of tap water to my lips— Click. The bathroom door swung wide open. Rory walked straight in, holding a fresh towel. "Jesus Christ!" I barked, flinching as water spilled down the front of my shirt. "Can you not knock?!" Rory stopped dead in her tracks, blinking at me in pure surprise. "What? It’s not like I haven't seen you before." "That is not the point!" I snapped, my hand instinctively closing around the pill bottle in my pocket. "This is basic decency. Do you have any manners?" "I'm sorry!" she held up her hands, rolling
Life as a sinclair : Book 1 CHAPTER 9
Rory’s POV The address on the crumpled piece of paper in my hand matched the faded numbers on the rusting gate in front of me. I stood on the damp sidewalk of a quiet, working-class Chicago neighborhood, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard it was almost deafening. For months—no, for years—I had dreamed of this moment. I had laid awake at night, picturing what it would feel like to stand in front of the people who gave me life, wondering if they shared my blue eyes, my nervous habits, or my obsession with drawing. Now, standing here, a heavy wave of pure panic washed over me. Do I actually want to do this? What if they didn't want me around? What if I was just a mistake they spent twenty-one years trying to forget? What if they had other children—kids they actually kept, raised, and loved—while I was the only piece they threw away? My throat tightened as a sudden surge of guilt hit me. How would my sisters feel about this? Ivory had practically sacrificed her youth t
Life as a sinclair : Book 1 CHAPTER 8
Rory’s POV"Okay, but listen," Diana said, leaning across the breakroom counter and taking a slow sip of her iced iced coffee. "If you ever want a quick, zero-commitment desk scandal, Greg from accounting is single. But stay away from Marcus in marketing—he’s slept with half the junior design team and still forgets their names in staff meetings."I chuckled, leaning against the marble counter while stirring my sugar into my mug. "Good to know. What about the top floor?""The executive suite?" Diana raised an eyebrow, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Off-limits. Total ghost town for romance. A couple of girls tried flirting with Mr. Logan last year—one literally dropped a napkin with her number on his desk during a pitch—and he had HR pull her off the account before end-of-day. The man is a ice block."I paused mid-stir. "Really? He doesn't... talk to anyone?""Girl, no," Diana scoffed, waving a hand. "He doesn't play about his work, and he definitely doesn't play
Life as a sinclair : Book 1 Chapter 7
Rory’s POVMonday morning was an exercise in strategic timing.I made a huge point of showing my face at the office early. I walked in at 8:15 AM sharp, dropped my tote bag onto my cubicle desk, greeted three different coworkers by name, and made sure Mark from analytics saw me making coffee in the breakroom. Paper trail: established.At 8:40 AM, I slid my phone, my portfolio tablet, and a small black paper bag containing three of my favorite physical miniature canvases into my bag. Taking a quiet breath, I slipped down the side stairwell instead of taking the main elevator, walking out into the crisp Chicago morning air totally undetected.Twenty minutes later, I pushed open the heavy glass doors of Lumière Fine Art & Gallery.My pulse was racing, a mix of pure adrenaline and nerves. Getting my work displayed in a gallery like this had been a dream of mine for years. I smoothed down my skirt, holding the paper bag tight against my side as the receptionist gave me a warm nod."R
Life as a sinclair : Book 1 Chapter 6: Secret Appointments
The art supply store was usually called a frame shop or an independent gallery, but to me, places like this were sanctuaries. It was Saturday afternoon, and I was still reeling from my meeting with Ms. Jade. She had called me earlier that morning with news that made my blood run cold and my heart race all at once: my birth parents were alive. Not only were they alive, but they were living right here in Chicago. She promised to get back to me soon with the exact location and official papers, leaving me floating in a weird, anxious void. When I’m overwhelmed, I draw. And when I draw, I eat bananas. It’s an elite combination. So, with a half-eaten banana in one hand and my leather portfolio tucked under my arm, I pushed open the door to Lumière Fine Arts & Gallery—a sleek, high-end studio tucked into the trendy art district. I wasn't just here to look at paint supplies; I was looking for a spot to sell my original work. I walked up to the front desk, where a middle-aged woman
Life as a sinclair : Book 1 Chapter 5: The Glass Fortress
I was in the middle of sketching a rough charcoal portrait on the back of my notepad when a shadow fell across my cubicle. "Rory?" a junior analyst named Mark asked, tapping his tablet. "Mr. Logan wants to see you in his office." My hand froze, the piece of charcoal snapping in half between my fingers. I took a slow breath, brushing the black dust off my palms. I knew this was coming. Sooner or later, he was bound to drag me into his lair. "Thanks, Mark," I said, forcing a calm smile as I stood up, smoothing down my blazer. Walking down the long, carpeted hall felt like walking to the gallows. I reached the frosted glass door at the end, took one last steadying breath, and gave two sharp knocks. "Enter," his voice called out—deep, smooth, and commanding. I pushed the door open. Billy was sitting behind a massive dark oak desk, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, looking absurdly handsome framed by the Chicago skyline behind him. "Take a seat, Miss Sinclair," he said, gestu
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