Lester Sinclair Novels & Stories

"Just give me a name, Robert." "Evander Sinclair," Robert stated clearly. The name echoed in the quiet room. I recognized it immediately. Evander Sinclair was a myth in the business world—a brutal, reclusive billionaire who had turned his family's shipping and tech empire into a global superpower before he even turned thirty. My father had spoken of him with immense respect, almost fear.

Jack Clement was a tall man with a stern expression. “Mr. Clement?” I said, extending my hand. “I’m Elijah Sinclair. I’ve heard you might have some information about Henry Stanford.” Jack’s eyes narrowed, and he shook my hand firmly. I took a seat across from him, and Jack wasted no time. “Henry. That name still makes my blood boil. He was a master at dodging the authorities, but he left a trail of destruction. When I was with his company, he was involved in all sorts of shady dealings. The man built his fortune on illegal transactions.”

“Celeste, with the recent leaks about Mr. Sinclair’s past conduct, do you feel your message has been compromised?” She didn’t hesitate. “No.” The moderator blinked. “No?” She nodded. “Clean Slate is about transparency. About telling the truth, even when it’s uncomfortable. Damien Sinclair’s past is no secret now, and I won’t defend the mistakes he made, b ut I also won’t pretend that people can’t change. He’s the first man I’ve seen dismantle his own empire to prove it.” A soft murmur spread through the audience. Another reporter stood. “Are you still romantically involved?”

"I can tell that you are new to this hotel and probably new to this city as well." He paused for a moment, then continued speaking in a calm but confident voice. "I am Liam Sinclair of Sinclair Corporation. Perhaps you have heard that name before." When the receptionist heard the name "Sinclair," her eyes went wide and her whole body seemed to shake a little bit. She had never seen Liam in person before, but she had definitely heard about the Sinclair family and their powerful business empire. Everyone in the business world knew about the Sinclairs and how much money and influence they had.

taking another deep breath i slowly release it and walm down the stairs, The guy i now know is named Skyler watch's me as i descend the stairs before coming over to me as i reach the bottom. He holds out his hand and i graciously taking it "I'm Skyler, and might i say you look fucking delicious in those pants" i blush slightly not really knowing what to say other then to say thank you and introduce myself "I'm Harper and uh thanks" i give him a soft smile and walk past Nixon ignoring him completely.

This house was a tool, just like everything else. As I pushed open the heavy oak door to the study, the Sinclair reps turned toward me, three men and one woman, all in tailored suits, their faces a mix of caution and calculated politeness. Standing in front was a silver-haired man, probably in his late fifties, whom I assumed to be the one who called the shots. A face I had never seen before since the start of this deal. He stood first, extending his hand. "Mr. Grey. Good to see you in person," he said, his voice firm and fearless. “I'm Mr. Victor Sinclair.”

He was alone, just himself in a coat that was not the press appearance coat and with the specific quality of a man who had made a decision and was done reconsidering it. He walked to the testimony table. He stood beside Lennon. He did not speak right away. He looked at the board. He looked at the press area, he looked at the journalist her recorder and the two cameras. He looked at all of it and he did not manage his expression for any of it. He looked at Hargrove. "I would like to add testimony," he said. "Your name for the record." "Senator David Kessler." He paused. "Lennon's father."

The grand meeting hall buzzed with a quiet, focused energy as Alexandro led Serena inside. The vast chamber, with its vaulted ceilings and heavy iron chandeliers, seemed carved out of history itself. Sunlight poured through the narrow windows, illuminating the carved wolf sigils on the stone walls—symbols of strength, loyalty, and dominance. The moment Alexandro entered, his betas rose from their seats in respect, bowing their heads to their Alpha—and now, to their Luna.

I answered in hesitance. I was 11 when I found out that I was a Sin and before I could even tell them, they said that it would be nice if I won’t end up like them. Father also said that there was zero chance of me becoming a Sin because I had a weak stamina. They said I was too young to even know what a Sin means and it was too soon to know if I was one of them. Because of that, I decided to hide it from them. It wasn’t that hard to convince them that I was a normal human. With assurance that I was normal, they left me on my 13th birthday. Since then, I had no news about them. Not a call, not an email, no anything. ..