Enid Sinclair Novels & Stories

Enid also decided to partner with Kane Global, making it a standard foundation. On a crisp Saturday morning Alexander and Enid drove out of the city in silence at first the kind of silence that no longer needed filling. The cemetery lay on a gentle hill outside the city limits surrounded by ancient oaks and winter-bare fields. The grave marker was simple gray granite catching the pale sunlight. Flora Adeyemi Beloved daughter, friend and mother. Forever in our hearts Alexander knelt first placing a bouquet of white lilies and soft pink roses at the base of the stone. Enid crouched beside him shoulder brushing shoulder steady as always. Neither spoke immediately. The wind moved through the bra

"What bigger picture could possibly justify selling your own daughter to a psychopath?!" Cynthia let out a harsh, barking laugh, shaking her head with utter condescension. "It's not for you to know, Elena! You wouldn't understand it even if I laid it out for you! Graham Sinclair was the better choice! He was a big man - a man with real legacy, real political backing, real global reach! He had everything a woman could ever dream of, and you had him wrapped around your finger! But what did you do? You ruined it! You drove him to become what he is today!"

“Or gasoline and fire.” “He’s never been seen with a woman, EVER. And it’s her?” By midnight: ROMAN THORNE BREAKS HIS SILENCE, SEEN WITH ELENA SINCLAIR. CITY’S MOST INFAMOUS BACHELOR NO LONGER SINGLE? The Sinclair name, once scoffed at, was suddenly at the center of every headline. Upstairs, Elena lay stretched across the grand canopy bed, her phone lighting up with messages too. Elena, tell me this isn’t true.

“Because of her?” He didn’t answer. Vivienne took another sip and hummed thoughtfully. “Sinclair, was it? Nora Sinclair?” Adrian’s jaw twitched. “Don’t.” “Relax. I’m not here to cause trouble,” she said, voice laced with false innocence. “It’s just… the name sounds familiar.” He stiffened. “What do you mean?” “I’m sure it’s nothing. But I remember the name Sinclair from one of your father’s briefings. Small, family-owned company. Struggling financially. I think Victor called it ‘ripe for absorption.’”

According to articles I combed through earlier, and bits of news I watched in the past, Sinclair had been a huge drunk and massive cheater, which led to his divorce. From what I gathered, a huge fraction of Axion Tech went down with the scandal, but not so big that it crippled Sinclair. That fucking lucky bastard, but if he takes up anymore brain space and continues to stop me from packing, I’ll never leave this apartment. “I don’t care who Sinclair is or how much money he has.” I tell Evelyn, throwing my box with the other packed things as I try and shake off the memory of that awful scandal. “All I care about right now is evading The Madame.” I continue, “Don’t you remember the last tenant

A flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes. It was him—the man who often appeared on the financial news channels. Gregory Sinclair, CEO of Sinclair Group. He was just standing there without saying a word, but his sheer presence was enough to make the air feel thicker. His cold gaze was on Anathea's hand, which was still holding the Carl's.

I scrolled to a contact I hadn't used in years and hit dial. "Reid." "Reid, it's Hunter Sinclair. I need you to look into something for me."

She took her bath quickly and dressed up, she left her room angrily. “You are not going to take breakfast!?” Ophelia inquired but Milana left the house without giving her a reply. **************** Milana was in a taxi when she saw the news that sent a shiver down her spine. THE REAL IDENTITY ABOUT THE MOTHER OF THE SECOND SON OF THE SINCLAIR; The second son of the Sinclair family “Dave Sinclair” mother is a maid from the poor family. She is also the shameless prostitute who climbs her way up to Henry Sinclair's bed but gets nothing more than a terrible death.

"You can't see me but I'm ripping out my hair at the moment. Okay. How long do we have?" "About fifty minutes now." I shrugged. "Well, let's make this count. Sinclair is the CEO of the Wells company. He's a wall street shark. He's a billionaire or maybe a trillionaire. Who can keep up with these things amiright? His birthday is on the fifteenth of July. You met at a horse race sixteen months ago. Mutual friends...uhm, let me see. Taylor Arnolds; she has an art gallery. Nathaniel Hawthorne. Lucas Armerick. Look, it won't matter. Both of you never talk about people."

His smile returned in full force as he settled down on it and motioned for me to do the same. “Please, Ms. Fairchild," he purred, "take a seat. Let's get down to business." As I settled into the chair, Mr. Sinclair leaned forward, a diamond ring flashing on his finger. “Ms. Fairchild,” He began as his voice dropped to a confidential whisper. “Allow me to introduce myself properly. Elijah Sinclair, COO of Gadget Inc., and, as of yesterday, a most fascinated admirer of your architectural prowess." He sure did know how to play the games. It was psychology to earn yourself in someone’s best book by making a nice statement about things they cherished the most.