Jean Sinclair Novels & Stories

“You tell me, why didn’t you control yourself? As horrible as Patrick was, you didn’t have to cut off your nose to spite your face. I can help you fix Patrick and Selena. You didn’t have to ruin yourself for him.” Jean laughed self-deprecatingly. “I don’t want to be like that. I have had enough. I don’t want that.” She paused, her eyes reddening. “I don’t want to eat dirt like my mom. While those women are still enjoying a good life, my mom…” It was only then Jean showed the softer side of hers. She was only twenty-three. She wore no makeup. Hidden under her fair, delicate skin was uncompromising self-will.

“What did the woman do.this time?” With 'the woman', Sinclair was referring to his mother— my stepmother. He had dissociated himself from her because he held the belief that she was an abomination for hooking up with another man after his father died. Sinclair was drop-dead gorgeous with his sleepy green eyes and smooth voice. The first time I saw him, I was apprehensive because of his scarily inked body. “This has nothing to do with her.” I replied. “I need some emergency f…"

Today is such a beautiful day in Salem, I can already tell by the early dawn sun shining through my window. What does today have in store for me? Work! I work at The Jonathan Corwin House which is known locally as The Witch House. It's famous as the original owner of the same namesake was one of the judges who presided over the notorious trials and it's now a museum and I'm lucky enough to run it. What's even better is, I live opposite so it's simply a short walk to work every day.

“I don’t need to, Ms. Leon, I’ve been around powerful men my whole life, I know the look women get when they think they’ve found one they can control – or fix, and I see that same look in you Ms. Leon, or should I say Skyla?” I stepped closer, my voice as brittle as ice. “Ypu don’t know shit, Ms Sinclair,” I muttered firmly through gritted. “I would gain nothing by controlling him. All I want is to destroy the man trying really hard to destroy me – bring him down to his knees. And if Xavier’s not standing in the way, then I don’t have a problem with him. Yet.” Her jaw ticked aggressively. “Enjoy your little theatrics while it lasts Ms Leon. But remember, you’re a scandal, I’m a Sinclair big

“Understood.” I sat back down and looked at Sinclair’s photo. She isn’t much to look at. Frumpy clothes, glasses that are too big for her face. Her hair looks limp and lifeless. She isn’t completely unfortunate, but it’s painfully obvious that no one has ever bothered to tell her that her appearance is unattractive.

Melissa mumbled. “How would I know? Not as if I'm the one who brought her here," Sin replied. “I wasn't talking to you, d!ck head," Melissa snapped, rolling her eyes. Melissa, you can call her a badass b!tch, a crazy psycho, your choice. She's very good at archery and has some pretty interesting skills. She and Sin are always on each other's neck. Sinclair, but he prefers to be called Sin. Free-spirited, a playboy who chases anything under a skirt. However, don't take advantage of his kindness; he's second in command after Aurelio, closest to Aurelio himself, let's say a cheerful devil.

Her sister, Cynthia, found it difficult to watch someone as gorgeous as Jeanie become so turned-off from men and relationships because of Don. Cynthia knew that Jeanie could have any man she wanted, but she usually went along with whomever was the most persistent in pursuing her, which meant she usually dated (and married), aggressive assholes.

"Twenty-eight years old, runs the company since his parents died. Smart kid but reckless. Doesn't take his own safety seriously even though there've been six assassination attempts in the past year. His last bodyguard quit because Sinclair kept ditching him to go to clubs and parties, treating the whole thing like a joke." Kieran flipped open the file and saw a photo that made his stomach do something weird. Elliot Sinclair was fucking gorgeous. Like, unfairly so. Tall and broad-shouldered in an expensive suit, with silver-white hair that marked him as something rare. Kieran's eyes narrowed. Silver-white hair only meant one thing. "He's S-Tier," Kieran said flatly. It wasn't a question. Patt