Dominic Sinclair Novels & Stories

I turned, frantically searching for an exit, but my breath caught in my throat when I saw him. Zayren stepped out of a room, his dark hair damp, strands falling over his forehead as he rubbed a towel against them. The top buttons of his white shirt were undone, revealing the defined lines of his collarbone and the glistening droplets of water trailing down his skin. His black dress pants clung to his frame, exuding an effortless dominance. His eyes found mine, and a slow, knowing smirk curled his lips. “So, my love,” his voice was deep, husky... dangerous. “You’re finally awake.”

I knew for a fact that none of those prayers would reach heaven. Then the service started. Father John began slowly, his voice deep, infuriating, and commanding, filling every ear and heart. At first, I believed I could survive it. Maybe if I didn’t listen, maybe if I did not look at him, maybe if I zoned out, I would be fine. Maybe I could actually endure. And then he began. “Sin.” I gulped. “Begins as a small seed, unseen, almost harmless. But if you ignore it? It would destroy your soul.

“Do you ever miss it? The power? The control? The... danger?” Dominic didn’t answer immediately. “Sometimes I miss the clarity of it. In that world, everything was black and white. Win or lose. Control or chaos.” “But?” “But I never lived in that world. I existed in it. I only started living when I found you.” Ava smiled, tears prickling her eyes. “You always know how to say the right thing.” He grinned. “I’ve had years of practice.” --- Weeks later, they traveled to New York for the official launch of The Sinclair Foundation. It had grown into more than just a charity — it was a movement. Survivors, whistleblowers, and victims of organized corruption found resources, safety, and a powerful

“What do you really think, Hank?” Ella squeaks in protest, her head spinning to stare at her mate. “You can’t possibly disbelieve a word that boy said, Dominic!” Sinclair laughs, turning to his wife. “I didn’t say what I thought, Ella,” he says, grinning at her. “I’m just asking Hank for his professional opinion.” “It’s not a professional opinion,” Hank murmurs, still studying the door, “I’m a doctor not a…I don’t know. Whatever kind of person is in charge of interrogating people who were raised in violent cults.”

The way in was Dominic Sinclair, who was thirty-one years old and brilliant and beginning to emerge as a genuine Conclave leadership candidate and who was therefore the natural target of Hadrian's intelligence operation. She applied for the security role before Hadrian's people could place someone in it. She got there first. "For nine years," Dominic says with a cool voice, hands in his pant pocket. It is the first thing he's said since we walked in. "Yes," she says. "You were monitoring the operation from inside my house," he says. "I was protecting you from it," she says. "There is a difference." "You withheld information from me," he says.

Maya noticed immediately and without hesitation, she reached for the remote and turned it off. Silence followed. Then—She looked at me and winked. “Sin is like a brother,” she said casually. “So I know everything.” I stared at her. Speechless. And then—Slowly—I smiled. Not long after, the door opened again and Dominic returned as he stepped inside casually—Then stopped completely for a few seconds, he just stood there, staring at me. His expression is unreadable. But his eyes—They gave him away. I looked at my reflection briefly then back at him.

’t suit his taste; he barely touched his meal during dinner. However, Sinclair had been overly enthusiastic with the drinks, and Dominic didn’t want to offend him. I suddenly remembered that when Sinclair returned, he was holding a black ceramic jar, which was used by Uncle billy for brewing wine. I recalled Uncle billy mentioning that he was going to gift Dominica jar of seal wine, and my heart sank. Seal wine was potent and had stimulating effects, especially for men. They were already supposed to be alone together, and now that he had drunk seal wine, I feared I might end up in a situation I couldn’t escape from. Dominic appeared to have a calm and composed face, but in bed, he transforme

“Yeah… I slept okay.” Before the guilt could settle too deep, Dominic walked in. He looked sinfully hot, black tank top clinging to his chest and shoulders, grey gym shorts hanging low enough to show the deep lines of his hips. His hair was messy, jaw shadowed with stubble. My stomach flipped hard. Heat rushed between my legs again like my body had zero shame. I turned away fast, pretending to be very interested in the orange juice on the counter. My cheeks burned.

“The signal vanished, but not before he bounced it through four different spoofed servers. He’s smarter than we thought.” Dominique leaned against the wall, pressing her fingers to her temple. “Then I need to be smarter.” “We will be. We’re not alone.” “That’s what scares me,” she murmured. “I’m not used to help.” “You’re used to worship,” he said flatly. She smiled, bitter. “Close enough.” “Domica doesn’t need worship,” Damien said after a pause. “She needs a witness. And I’m here for that.” The line went quiet.

His mother, Aniya, exhaled a heavy breath before turning her head to look at her husband, Riccardo, where she found her husband's eyes peering at that main door through which their son and that girl had left. ………….. “She is Nina Halzen. Her age is 19 and….” “And fucking what?” He glowered and then sipped from his glass of liquor. His inebriated bloodshed eyes were fixed at his clothes in front of him which were stained in that cake. “She is Kester's son, Cain's girlfriend,” he heard his man revealing to him on the call which made him vigorously clutch that glass of liquor in his hold because he knew this was just the beginning of something extremely forbidden and sinful.