Ch 9: Elena—His Brother's Offer

Marcus Kane waits in the lobby of Sinclair Technologies like he owns the building.

He doesn't. I do.

Steel beams, glass panels, and lines of code running through the servers twenty floors up—they’re all mine.

Built from nothing but ambition and spite and the burning need to prove that Adrian Kane destroying me was the best thing that ever happened to my career.

"Ms. Sinclair." He stands as I approach, buttoning his suit jacket in one smooth motion. Tom Ford. Probably the same tailor as Adrian. "Thank you for seeing me."

"I didn't agree to see you. I agreed not to have security remove you." I gesture toward the elevators. "You only have five minutes."

We ride up in silence.

He studies his reflection in the polished steel doors—Victor's face, but sharper and hungrier.

Where Adrian's edges have been worn smooth by guilt and therapy, Marcus's have only sharpened with resentment.

I didn't offer him a seat. He takes one anyway. Crosses his legs. Makes himself comfortable in my space.

"I'll be direct," Marcus says, examining his cufflinks—platinum, engraved with the Kane family crest. "I want to help you acheive what you’ve been trying to."

"Why do you think I’d need your help?"

"You're playing the long game." He smiles—cold, nothing like Adrian's rare genuine ones. "I respect that. It's elegant. Strategic. But I can make it faster. Cleaner."

"And what do you get out of this?"

"Kane Industries. The inheritance. Everything that should've been split between us but Daddy decided to dangle in front of Adrian like he's some prize dog performing tricks." His voice turns bitter.

"Jump through hoops.” He continues. “Marry the girl. Prove you're worthy of the legacy. Meanwhile, I held the company together for five years while he fell into whatever he’s still trying to recover from."

I circle my desk. Lean against it. Study him the way I study hostile acquisition targets—looking for weakness, leverage, the soft underbelly.

"You want me to sabotage Adrian so you get his company."

"I want to give you resources. Leverage. Fifty million dollars invested in Sinclair Technologies. No strings, no equity demanded. Pure capital injection."

He leans forward. "Plus connections to every board member who's questioned Adrian's stability over the past five years. All documented, all accessible."

"That's private information."

"In theory." His smile widens. "In practice, people talk. Especially when they're concerned about leadership capacity."

"So blackmail."

"Transparency." He stands, moves closer. Not threatening, but definitely invading my space. "All you have to do is keep playing your game. Keep making him chase. And when the six months are up, walk away. Simple. Clean. You get your revenge, I get my inheritance, Adrian gets what he deserves—nothing."

"And what if I don't want your help?"

"Then you're more naive than I thought." His voice turns cold. "Adrian's not the man you knew then. He designed his wounded puppy routine to manipulate your emotions and secure his inheritance."

"I'm not falling for anything."

"Aren't you?" He tilts his head, studying me. 

"And how is that your concern, Mr. Kane Jnr.?" I smirk at my own words.

"It’s funny how much you’re willing to take from him." He smiles.

I push off the desk. Move toward him with deliberate steps. "Get out."

"Fifty million is on the line, Ms. Sinclair."

"I said get out."

He doesn't move. Just stands there, hands in his pockets, utterly relaxed. "You're going to regret this."

"Maybe. But if I strike my target, it'll be on my terms. Not because you're paying me to do your dirty work." I open my office door wide. "We're done here."

Marcus straightens his tie. Walks to the door with measured steps. Stops in the threshold and turns back.

"My brother is more dangerous when he's desperate," he says. "And Elena? He's very desperate. Desperate men make unpredictable choices. Sometimes they fight. Sometimes they break. Sometimes—" He pauses. "Sometimes they do things no one sees coming."

He leaves.

I stand in the silence of my office, Marcus's words echoing against glass and steel.

Fifty million dollars to do what I'm gradually trying to do.

I should've taken the deal. It's logical. Strategic. Everything I've built my career on.

I don't want Marcus to ruin Adrian. I want to do it myself.

Or maybe—and this is the terrifying part that I can't quite examine in full daylight—I don't want anyone to destroy him at all.

Not Marcus. Not me. Not even Adrian himself.