Enid Sinclair Wednesday Novels & Stories

Henry—I had done business with him in the past. “This is Andrea Sinclair, the heiress of Sinclair Corporation,” I introduced, turning to Andrea. I could tell she still wasn’t used to hearing people call me Dawson. She had asked me about it before, but I had avoided the question. I wasn’t ready to open up to her yet—not until she was ready to join me in my plan. “Good morning, sir,” she greeted Mr. Henry. “Good morning, Miss Sinclair. You can have your seat.” He gestured for us to sit. I took my seat, and Andrea sat beside me.

Elena's Point Of View Weeks had passed since the world watched Sinclair Global's pristine, multi-billion-dollar empire crack down the middle and begin sinking into the Texas dirt. Weeks since frantic news anchors, flashing red banners, and black government SUVs swarming their corporate headquarters dominated every conversation. And honestly? Everything had been so incredibly quiet and peaceful since then. I couldn't begin to describe how grateful I was for that stillness. It felt like emerging from a storm into unexpected sunshine. My days had taken on a rhythm that wasn't complicated, but it was exactly what I needed.

Enid shrugged before he shook his head and went back to his morning papers. Andrea served us breakfast and I was already in a soiled mood. My neckline was low, low enough to expose my boobs but Enid did pay attention. He acted like I was his sister. But I was not. "What time is your meeting scheduled with the event planner?" His gaze left his phone to my face. "Eight o'clock. Are you still coming?" I pouted sensuously. He didn't seem to pay attention to it. He just nodded and took his coffee to his mouth.