Mistress to my Ex's Billionaire Uncle

ARIA

I realized that wearing a chanel blazer to my father's final court trial was a mistake the moment I stepped out of the last black Mercedes we owned and the cameras of the reporters found me like heat seeking missiles.

I should have worn something quieter but I wanted to look good for my dad, I didn't want him to notice how much we've lost in a short amount of time since his arrest.

Standing on the courthouse steps now, I understand how badly that had aged in the last forty-eight hours.

"Miss Sinclair!"

"Aria! Over here, Aria!"

"Miss Sinclair, did your father steal from his investors?"

The reporters came from everywhere. A wall of bodies pressing forward against the thin barrier of security guards, microphones shoved so close to my face that I could see the foam heads trembling with urgency. Cameras flashed in rapid, merciless succession. 

I kept walking, chin lifted, jaw tight, heels clicking against the stone steps with a precision I had to actively concentrate on because my knees were doing something strange and unreliable underneath me.

“Don't fall. Whatever you do, don't fall”. I kept telling myself 

"Miss Sinclair, sources say your father embezzled over a billion dollars from private investors, do you have any comment?"

I didn't look at the woman who asked that. I kept my eyes forward.

"Were you aware of the alleged money laundering? Did you benefit from funds that belonged to other people?" Another reporter asked 

"How does it feel knowing thousands of families lost their savings because of Richard Sinclair?"

That one landed differently. I felt it somewhere behind my sternum, a sharp little catch in my breathing that I smoothed over before it could reach my face. I was good at staying still. I had a mother who left me for her modelling career before i was eight and a father who loved me extravagantly so I had learned early how to keep my face perfectly, expensively still.

"Miss Sinclair, was your lifestyle funded by fraud?"

The cameras caught my little flinch. I know they did.

Our family lawyer touched my elbow slightly, murmuring something about keeping moving, and I nodded without hearing him, the sound of my own pulse becoming louder than the crowd. 

My phone vibrated. I ignored it.

It vibrated again. two notifications landing one after the other in the span of a few seconds, and something about the rhythm of it made me slow down despite every instinct screaming at me not to stop moving in the middle of a press ambush.

I stopped walking.

Our family lawyer said my name but I didn't hear him.

I looked down at my phone screen.

The first message was from my father's legal team. The kind of short, clipped language that lawyers used when they didn't want to be responsible for how their words landed on the other end.

“The court has set bail at one million dollars. Payment must be made in full before Richard Sinclair can be released on temporary bail. We are awaiting your instruction on how you would like to proceed.”

One million dollars.

I read it twice. A million dollars had never sounded like a lot of money before. It was the kind of figure that floated around dinner table conversations in my world the way other people discussed grocery budgets. My father had once spent more than that on a single piece of art for the foyer because he liked the colors. I have spent a humiliating fraction of it on shoes over the course of a single semester without ever once pausing to add it up.

One million dollars had never sounded so much like the end of everything until I opened the second message.

The second message came from my family's private bank. I recognized the sender ID before I even opened it and my heart dropped to my stomach.

 “Following regulatory instruction, all accounts associated with the Sinclair Family Trust and affiliated holdings have been frozen with immediate effect. Access to funds has been suspended until further notice. For inquiries—” 

I stopped reading. 

My world came crumbling down as I realized that I didn't have access to every single account including the trust fund my grandfather built, the operating accounts and the household accounts my father had set up for me before I went to college so that I would never have to worry about anything.

One million dollars I didn't have, to free a father I can't even reach, using accounts I can no longer access.

 I knew I had to find solutions immediately so I texted the only person that I knew was in the best position to help me; my ex Ethan Luther. After all, he owes me money. I quickly asked for us to meet up and he sent me a location.

I put my phone back in my purse.

I smoothed the front of the Chanel blazer with both hands. a slow, deliberate press of my palms against the fabric, the way my father used to straighten his tie before walking into a boardroom.

I turned on my heels and walked back to my car.

—--------

“A million dollars is a lot of money, Aria. I can’t just give that to anyone. If you were still my girlfriend, sure, but now?” Ethan says as he shrugs, before pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

I look at him and he stares back at me like I was wrong to end things with him. Ethan was my boyfriend for three years, the only man I had ever been with but last week I caught him in bed with a lady who has had a crush on him for the longest time. A lady he told me was beneath him and for me not to worry about.

I don’t even know what hurt the most, the fact that he was cheating, or the way he casually asked me to join them and make it a threesome. Me, his girlfriend. I hadn’t even let him touch me once and he wanted me to have a threesome with him and another woman?

If I wasn’t desperate to get my dad out of prison after someone at his company absconded with a huge sum of money and framed him for it, I wouldn’t be here.

We have literally lost everything. All of our assets and bank accounts have either been frozen by the banks or the government. 

For the first time in my life I know what it feels like to live from hand to mouth and with Ethan’s betrayal on top of that, everything just feels so sad and overwhelming but I’m strong. That is what dad always says. I’m his strong and beautiful princess and I’m not going to let him down, even if it means borrowing money from this scum.

“Ethan, we’re talking about my dad here and you owe us this money. Why are you making it seem like I’m begging you,” I reply calmly, trying not to let my irritation towards him get the better of me.

“You know what Aria, have a few drinks with me, I hate talking about this kinda stuff all sober and shit,” He replies, grabbing a glass and pouring me a drink.

We’re in a private room in the House of Sin Bar. It is the most elite and luxurious bar in the province and like the name suggests, the rich and wealthy come here to indulge in all sorts of passion.

Heck, I remember when I used to be a regular here but with the sudden downturn of things, they wouldn’t even let me past the gate till they got a call from Ethan.

“I don’t want to have a drink with you, just pay me back the money, please,” I replied more sharply this time.

“Well I don’t have it, stop hounding me, I’m not the one who forced your father to embezzle funds,” he replies curtly.

“He didn’t do it,” I counter coldly.

Ethan scoffs. “Whatever you say Audrey, but if you want me to give you the money, you’re going to have to do what I say, so drink,” He says condescendingly, pushing me the glass.

“Fine,” I reply, taking it down in one swig.

“Good girl,” He murmurs softly, running his hand down my shiny black hair and I knock it off.

“Please don’t touch me,” I say but not as coldly as I wanted it to sound. I guess my body still needed to catch up with my mind.

“How about another round?” He smirks mischievously, filling up both our glasses.

I can’t refuse. Ethan’s one of those guys that hardly takes no for an answer and since he knows I need his help, he’s just going to keep pushing me if I refuse to drink.

“One more ... .I think we should finish this whole bottle,” He says, holding up the bottle and pouring our third shots.

I say nothing, picking up my glass.

“You really should get me drunk tonight Aria…men tend to make foolish decisions like paying back loans to their exes when they’re drunk. Haha!” He laughs at his own stupid joke.

Wait. Did he just insinuate that paying me back what he owes to bail dad is a foolish decision?

“Are you really going to give me this money or are you just trying to get me drunk?” I ask him sharply, glaring at him.

“It’s a pity you won’t know until the bottle is empty,” He replies with a sinister smile on his face.

I should have known. 

“I’m not playing your stupid game Ethan,” I say, dropping the glass and standing up.

“Go,” He says. “Too bad daddy’s going to remain in jail because his precious daughter can’t take a little fucking joke.” His tone is more serious this time and he’s not smirking or smiling and I wonder if he was really joking.

I sit back down, gulping the third shot and just like that we go shot for shot until the bottle is empty. 

“There, empty bottle,” I say. “Now are you going to give me the money?” I’m surprised at the slight slur of my words. 

The different blinking colours of lights in the room all seem to blend together as one, as if I was seeing through a kaleidoscope.

Shit! I’m drunk. Really……drunk.

“Of course Aria, when you give me what I want,” Ethan replies huskily, inching closer to me and running his fingers along my arms and I allow him for a moment, giving in to the pleasure until I remember what he did.

I flinch away, disgusted by the thought of him ever touching me again. 

“Don’t be such a fucking prude. It’s not like you don’t enjoy it when I touch you. Look, it’s really simple, if you want me to give you the money, you give me the honey,” He smirks and it takes everything in me not to slap it off his face.

I stand up and I almost fall, supporting myself with the couch. Ethan doesn’t even try to help me, rather he just laughs.

I grab my purse. “Go to hell,” I say to his face and turn to leave. I should have known better than to trust him. He was never going to give me the money.

I was almost at the door when I heard him yell from a distance. “Beggars have no choice Aria! One way or the other, you’ll be back begging for this cock. I’ll make sure of it!”

I halt but I don’t turn to look at him, shaking my head in regret and I smile wryly to mask the agonising pain I felt inside. I loved this man with everything that I am. Body, soul and spirit, and now, in my time of dire need, he will not help me, rather he mocks me and calls me a beggar.

I walk briskly and stagger towards the exit of the building, heading to the VIP car park. Everything seems wobbly and looks double in my eyes. Who am I kidding? I can’t drive home in this state. I bring out my phone to order an Uber. 

Great. My battery’s fucking dead.

Suddenly, a Rolls Royce Droptail drives up right to where I’m standing. The owner steps out from the back and the first thing that caught my attention was his full beard, just like Ethan’s. 

I grimace at the thought. Am I really going to start comparing every man I meet to him now?

“You look….” The stranger paused, bringing out his phone and looking at it. “You definitely look different, but a nice upgrade I must say.”

His voice is deep but raspy and as he steps close, the rich smell of his cologne slowly invades my nostrils. Oh, how I love a man that smells good.

“I think you got the wrong person,” I reply, I definitely haven’t seen this person before.

“On the contrary, you are just the right person,” He says, as he nibbles on his pink and plump lower lips slowly. His dark and deep eyes shamelessly roaming over my body, suddenly making me realise I had left my jacket up there with Ethan.

Right now I’m clad in nothing but a short, black body con dress that salaciously hugs my hourglass figure, displaying a good amount of cleavage and my thighs. Oh God, I feel naked in front of this man’s sexy eyes.

“Tell me, what’s a night going to cost me?” He asks, his eyes trailing up my thighs and stopping right at my eyes.

A night? Does he think I’m some hooker? First Ethan calls me a beggar and now this? How the mighty has truly fallen. No one would dare speak to me like this if Dad didn’t get into trouble, but would it really be a bad idea to spend the night with this hot and handsome stranger?

Ah! That’s the alcohol talking, that’s not you Aria.

“You can’t afford me baby, I’m expensive,” I reply airily. Is this really how hookers do it? I resist the urge to laugh at my silly attempt. The whiskey really has me wasted.

“Try me,” He replies confidently, taking a step closer until we’re literally inches apart. His deep dark eyes lock with my big blue ones and my heart suddenly races at the intensity in his eyes.

“I’m easily worth a million baby,” I reply, batting my lashes at him, thinking that should make him back off but to my surprise he slowly curls his right hand around my waist, getting a good feel and

I freeze as he pulls me closer.

His tongue grazes my lobe as he whispers into my ear. “Money is not pricey Angel, Love is. What you ask is far from greedy.”