Romans & histoires Lester Sinclair

He understood, and he pitied her for feeling anything towards their boss. Sinclair Godfrey was no grand prize that Liezel had won. He may be able to give her things, but he will never give himself to her. Will was sure of that because he knew Sinclair wasn’t that kind of man. He knew that as soon as rumors about their CEO and his controversial past reached everyone in the company when he took over the CEO role. He had heard about how Sinclair was good at mixing business with pleasure. He had also heard about the college scandal that nearly ruined Belinda Sinclair’s marriage to another wealthy man, Gerard Maxwell.

“It’s life, I guess. Take care, Mr. Lethon. And don’t think too much about this.” It was an unnecessary suggestion, because I knew he’d think about it—for the rest of the day, perhaps the week. Outside, the cool air of the corridor hit me. As I made my way back toward class, I spotted Sinclair strolling down the hall in the company of two girls, his easy smile in place, his hands shoved casually into his pockets. The girls were laughing, one of them tapping his arm with obvious fondness. Oh, Levina would hate this. I slowed my steps just enough to watch them, the corner of my mouth curling in amusement. Sinclair was using his charm and popularity strategically; it was written all over him. A

Brian Sinclair, the renowned guitarist. Brian “Master” Sinclair, guitar hero, rock god, perfect specimen of a man, was passed out in her hotel room! He’d kissed her. God, how he’d kissed her. If she didn’t have rules about when she allowed herself to have sex with a new acquaintance, he’d probably be making love to her right now. She seriously needed to amend her rules. Her body ached with wanting him. The man was too sexy for his own good.

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.

“All the biggest luxury brands will be there.” “That’s the event Sinclair usually attends,” Lorenzo said as he read the invitation carefully. “If he decides to show up. He doesn’t always.” "Who's Sinclair?" Sophia asked. Her brothers exchanged glances. “You don’t know Theo Sinclair?” Ethan asked, surprised. “Am I supposed to?” “He owns Sinclair Luxury Group,” Alexander explained. “It’s one of the biggest luxury companies in the world. He owns fashion brands, watch companies, and even a luxury car company. He’s thirty-two and worth about twelve billion dollars.”

“He’s thirty-eight, Isla.” “That didn’t answer the question,” I muttered under my breath, turning toward the sink to hide my smile. He sighed. “He’s powerful. Focus on your schoolwork, not grown men.” Too late, I thought. That night, I Googled him. Liam Sinclair. Billionaire. CEO of Sinclair International. My fingers trembled as I clicked through photo after photo. A commanding figure in sharp suits, steel-gray eyes that looked like they’d seen a hundred wars, and a jawline cut from marble. He had the kind of presence that made silence feel loud.

“Next time, try keeping your secrets in a better hiding place.” Adrian’s gaze flicked to the laptop on his desk, then back to her. His jaw tensed, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he knelt beside the intruder, yanking off the mask. The man was unfamiliar to Juniper, but Adrian’s expression darkened. “Damon Sinclair,” he muttered. Juniper crossed her arms. “Should I know that name?” Adrian let out a humorless laugh. “CEO of Sinclair Tech. And a royal pain in my ass.”

He apologized. Not saying anything, Leo read through the content of the tablet. The caption read, “CELEBRITY FASHION STYLIST RUNNING A FINANCIAL RETIREMENT PLAN BETWEEN THE CEO OF ROBIN MOTORS AND SAN FRANCISCO FASHION STYLIST, ZAC LEWIS WITH HER SON, SINCLAIR."

He released a heavy breath, his expression turning utterly serious. "You know my name. Liam Sinclair. It's not just a coincidence, someone sharing the same name." "I am that Liam Sinclair. The third son of General Ferdinand Sinclair and Her Royal Highness, Princess Grace. And just this morning, I officially assumed the position of CEO for SCA Group's New York branch. This is the real me, Cecilia." The air seemed to solidify around them. Cecilia felt the ground give way beneath her. She staggered, her slender heels unable to steady her against the shock. Her body swayed.

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.