Spicy Sinclair Novels & Stories

Nysaa couldn't resist taking a jab at his entitlement, her words biting and mocking. "Oh, how gracious of you to grace us with your presence, Mr. Sinclair. I'm sure the world has been eagerly waiting for your wisdom and benevolence." As Mace fielded questions from the reporters, Nysaa continued her private commentary, her insults growing even more scathing. "Yes, yes, Mr. Sinclair, tell us all about your grand plans for the world. I'm sure they're as groundbreaking as your fashion choices." Her words were laced with sarcasm and ridicule, a small act of rebellion against the man who represented everything she despised. Nysaa couldn't help herself; she had to take this opportunity to mock Mace

"But why he behaves weird around me? Is he trying to lure me towards him? Oh! my God, how could I mistook him as someone pure. He is sly, on the top a womanizer!" I shook my head in complete shock upin my assumption and took another sip of my delicious coffee. [The next day] Working in that deadly silence Sinclair was feeling awkward. He wanted to talk actually why he left in between, he just wanted to listen her voice. He thought of many reasons but all of them were not going to work. An hour passed silently again. When someone knocked at the glass door of cabin covered with black smoke-type paper. And without waiting for Sinclair's permission a lady came in.

A streak of rust-colored light hit the windshield, and then— A sound. A slow guitar intro that pulled her back two decades before she could stop it. Then that voice—clear, aching, undeniable. “You could be my silver spring… blue-green colors flashing…” “Silver Springs.” Her hand froze on the dial. She hadn’t heard it since college—since cutoff shorts, bonfires, and singing into the wind with no one to impress but herself. Before worship sets replaced playlists. Before she started skipping songs that made her feel. Eden didn’t switch it off. She turned it up.

The sweet scent of mortals in their prime as they entertain their exuberance. It has always been his pleasure. What better way to live in a world where his kind are called monsters. He leaves the women and goes to the bar where Bryan is on duty. Bryan serves his boss a glass of bourbon. No need to ask, he knows his boss after all. “I didn’t see you guys today,” Marcel’s French accent annoys the sphinx. “I almost forgot that you are still alive, Smeagle” Samuel mocks him. Marcel sniffs into the air and spits.

The words seemed to pulse with their own malevolent energy. BREAKING: SINCLAIR GLOBAL UNDER FEDERAL INVESTIGATION FOR MASSIVE CORRUPTION AND ENVIRONMENTAL CONCEALMENT. TRADING HALTED AFTER 15% PLUMMET. The news anchor's voice was sharp, fast-paced, and utterly merciless. "...insiders confirm that highly confidential internal audio files and encrypted safety drafts were leaked to federal regulators early this morning. The audio reportedly captures senior executives bribing Texas local regulatory boards to bypass hazardous compliance issues on the Trinity Pipeline project. Representatives for Sebastian and Graham Sinclair have issued a statement claiming the files are 'sophisticated AI deepfak

I scream and hung up. Monday morning I arrive at work extra early and emidiatly call Sinclair. " Hello this is Mr. Rossa I need to talt to Sebastian Sinclair, its urgent!" I say as soon as his Secretary greets me. The Sinclairs are not just a new partner, they are our new allies. We fought with them for almost five years for the New Yorker drugs territory , it was a fucking bloodbath and we finally found a way to share and even double or income by working together.

Sinclair walked over to the counter, his eyes lingering on me, but he got no response, then he turned his head towards Keith for answers instead. “That's the reason he's always here. So get used to it.” Keith said. Sinclair nodded, turning to me again. “Hey, want some smoke?” “No thanks, that stuff does something nasty to my body system." Keith chimed in, "Yeah, makes him do really stupid things he'd regret after a hangover.” Sinclair nodded again. I leaned towards the wooden counter, placing my elbows on it. "So tell me, you once said you lost your child right?” I asked Sinclair. He nodded, paying close attention. “And I suppose you have a Luna, yeah?"

Leonel Sinclair, what are you doing to me? And worse, why don’t I want you to ever stop?