Enid Sinclair Fanart Novels & Stories

Astrid answers, and Rune shoots her a look filled with disdain. Sinclair’s gaze suddenly jerks up, and he stiffens, his lips tightening. He steps away from me suddenly, his fingertips brushing mine. “I’ll be right back.” Sinclair I didn’t imagine it. I walk down the steps, spinning in circles. I saw him, I know I did. Fenrir Wilder was standing by the double doors, hands clasped behind his back, formidable as ever, and yet, there had been a soft smile on his face, and an odd emotion lining his green eyes.

My phone chirps, and I see a message from Sinclair. Stop bothering me – I found better company for the night. Then, immediately following the text, a photo appears. Sinclair is naked in a strange bed, his eyelids heavy over a sultry stare, his clothes from this evening slung over a nightstand. And there beside him, naked as the day she was born – is Lydia. _____________________

Hearing Mrs Harrison angry voice, she went out of the room. Sinclair was the first person she saw amongst every other person there. As always Sinclair was dressed perfectly and he exuded a certain kind of charisma and charm in the clothes he was putting on. Sinclair smiled and cheered the photography crew but when he saw her from a distance, his smile disappeared and changed to an angry look.

I grit out standing up to him. Sinclair's jaws tighten as he is visibly caught aback. Then, the anger appears in his eyes as he captures my neck again in his grasp. I don't know if he is aware he does that, but Sinclair holds so much strength that he could snap my neck if he wanted to, yet, I feel so... turned on. "I am Mr. Sin to you, Redhead. If you were any wise, you would remember what landed you here in the first place and that your friends have my money," Sin bites out, sneering at me.

That’s a cool idea,’ he said in the mind-link. “I want one for each hand,” I said. “Aiden likes the idea, too.” “I want one for each hand, too,” he pouted. I bit my bottom lip as he pouted. His eyes darkened. Mmm… “Oh! By the way, Sinclair, can you be back by the end of the week? Adrian is coming back, and we are throwing him a welcome party,” I said. “Sure! I’ll be there. How is he doing?” “He seems ready for a change,” I said honestly.

Her mother, Helena, stood beside him. The moment Verity stepped inside, her mother’s expression crumbled. “Verity.” For one second, Helena looked as if she might rush forward and embrace her. But she stopped herself. Perhaps she saw the hesitation on her daughter’s face. And she finally understood that affection could no longer be taken without permission. Edward’s gaze moved briefly to Quentin. His posture straightened. “Quentin,” he said with careful respect. “Thank you for coming.” Quentin gave a slight nod. “Mr. Sinclair.”

Henry spoke his mind, "Ms. Sinclair is focused, reliable, and hardworking. She's also loyal, humble, and extremely kind." "Kind?" Arthur coldly scoffed as he looked at the glass bottle stuck in his left hand. He didn't think she was kind at all. It had been so many months, and she still hadn't removed the bottle for him. It was torture for him to grab it in his hand every day. Henry was in his 30s and had a teenage daughter. "My daughter loved her favorite celebrity so much that she would travel all the way to Haryndale just to catch a concert. She would always sing their songs and buy all the merchandise, not wanting to study at all. Now, she has a different idol, and that's Ms. Sinclair.

He smiles as he brushes my cheek with his thumb to wipe my tears. "You make me look like a fúcking idiot, dude. " Vincent hisses and I laugh. "You're an idiot and I'm sure everyone knows that. Why's it a surprise to you?" Sinclair teases and Vincent glares at him. "Shut up, fucker!" "I'm sure Heather appreciates your gift, Vincent. Though, I must say; Sinclair sure knows how to make a woman weak. " "You're fúcking supporting him, too?" "Language!" I scold, nodding to where Ara stands playing with the plushie Sinclair got her.

She whispered. “Calm down my wifey.” Mason stood up coming to her side to hold her shoulders but Sierra slapped his hands away. “He's returned. He might still be alive after all these years Mason. You nor your father ever received his body.” Sierra was beginning to shiver now. The times she had recalled all about Joel were always bad. He was a disgusting pig who only wanted to get under her skirt years ago. Even now thinking about it gave her the creeps. “And, now his son seems to want to complete the job for him...”

“You better eat because we will be fucking all night long.” She shook her head at that and kept herself busy with the glass of wine while Sinclair made something in the kitchen. And as she waited, she finally took notice of the several paintings hanging on the walls on the right. She never particularly thought of Sinclair as the artistic kind of guy. There was not even a single piece of art in his office. Smiling to herself, she already had something in mind to give him on his birthday; if he was, after all, artistic. The thought of her and Sinclair celebrating his birthday today stirred something in Liezel for the celebration would be, no doubt, an extravagant one. She couldn’t wait.