Invincible Sinclair Voice Actor Novels & Stories

“Eli Sinclair.” He smiled faintly. “That’s my name.” Raina grasped his hand. “Raina… Ahem, Mr. Sinclair, now that we’re formally introduced, could you do me a favor? Let’s start by helping this man up. His condition may be serious.” ***

He smirks and stops in front of me. " You've grown." He snickers. " Sinclair , what do you want?" I ask him. He chuckles and looks down at me. " Who are you planning to kill this time? Who's the unfortunate soul Gray?" He asks and lights his cigar. " Mind your business , Sin." He laughs again and he's wasting my time. Sinclair was my father's friend or probably my father worked for Sinclair and he made me clear his dirty deals for Sinclair. He's never getting old.

The television volume was low, but no one in the Sinclair living room missed a single word. Their steaming cups of morning coffee sat on the center table untouched, eyes glued to the screen on the wall. The headline crawled across the bottom of the screen in bold white letters: ATTEMPTED KIDNAPPING SHAKES ASTER LANE, PROMINENT BUSINESSMAN DAMON SINCLAIR INVOLVED. The reporter’s voice was detached, the way people sounded when they were discussing tragedies that had nothing to do with them.

I heard him say and my blood ran cold. Sinclair came over to where I was and switched the voice call to video and forced my head to face him. "Well, well, well. The sins of a King shall be revisited upon his mate." He said, rubbing his hands in glee. I shut my eyes and turned my head away on seeing the face. It was scary. He looked young like in his mid twenties but his countenance and presence he commanded even through the phone told a different story. "You'll be rewarded for this. I will be coming there tomorrow,"He said and cut the call.

Those arms looked like they could pin me down without trying. “I’m Mr. Sinclair,” he said, voice low and smooth, like velvet over gravel. “We’re going to be working together a lot, Kassy. I expect focus and respect during our sessions.” I smirked, tilting my head so my hair fell over one shoulder. I let my eyes drag down his body slowly, then back up. “Sinclair? You must have sinned a lot with a name like that.”

I need deliverance. Lily who has been watching this scenario between us both just keeps on laughing uncontrollably like she is viewing a comedy. "The both of you are clowns honestly." She says and the flush on my face increases. Shit. Mr Mitchell just shrugs and shakes his head. "It is your friend here that is the clown." He says and I grit my teeth with embarrassment. "She seems pretty confused from what I can see right now." He says that I find myself glaring at him with a look that says ' really?', biting my lip.

James said with a smile. “You…” Sinclair’s lips twitched. “Nobody has dared to speak with me like this before. Even if they had the guts to do so, I would’ve killed them. Sigh…” Sinclair looked at James and said, “After being locked up for so long, I’ve already lost my edges.

He came for a kill, and by the way he regards Sin with empty, soulless eyes, I understand who he wishes to bury under. No. A quiet sob escapes me and yank my hand from Sin's hold, pushing him back with enough strength to have him stagger. "You need to leave. Now! He's going to kill you!" Sin monitors the space between Alaric's men and us, crossing the distance between me and him again. "Dane and the rest will be here soon. I can hold my own against--" A rifle goes off. Sinclair jerks, a violent tremor ripping through him as the bullet finds its mark in his shoulder. I feel pain. I think I might be screaming, because another rifle goes off and he jerks again, roaring.

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.

IRIS Quentin Sinclair was just as I remembered him. Tall and handsome, dressed in a black tailored suit that screamed money and authority. His salt-and-pepper chin-length hair was tied in a low ponytail. Now that he was in front of me, I could see how much Maverick resembled him. His cold eyes regarded me, and I didn't miss the sneer on his lips. I lifted my chin, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “Mr. Sinclair,” I greeted coolly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”