2025-03-31 00:50:43Ethan’s POV
The silence of my study was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. I didn’t look up immediately, finishing the last few lines of the document I was reviewing. It had been days since I officially entered the Sinclair Empire, and the sheer volume of information I had to absorb felt endless. “Come in.” My voice was calm, measured. One of my personal security guards stepped in, his stance rigid. “Sir, the President requests your presence in his study. I set down the papers, rubbing my temples briefly before rising. “Did he mention why?” The guard shook his head. “No, sir. Only that it is urgent.” I nodded. My grandfather wasn’t one for unnecessary summons. Whatever this was about, it had to be important. Still, I didn’t let it bother me. With a steady breath, I adjusted my cuffs and made my way out. The corridors of the Sinclair estate stretched long and elegant, bathed in the soft glow of chandeliers. Every servant, every guard I passed either bowed or genuflected. It wasn’t the gestures themselves that stirred something within me, it was what they meant. After years of being discarded, overlooked, and cast aside, I had finally found a place where I was not just acknowledged, but respected. The Sinclair bloodline ran through my veins, and for the first time, the world was forced to recognize it. As I approached my grandfather’s study, hushed voices slipped through the thick wooden doors. I slowed my steps, listening. The tone was low, the words indistinct, but the tension in them was undeniable. The guard at the door straightened at my arrival and announced, “Ethan Sinclair is here, sir.” A pause. Then, “Let him in.” The door swung open, and I stepped inside, my gaze immediately sweeping the room. My grandfather sat at his mahogany desk, his presence as commanding as ever. Across from him sat two men. The older man, likely in his late forties, had sharp features, a well-groomed beard, and an air of quiet calculation. His dark suit was perfectly tailored, exuding power and control. The younger man beside him, no older than his early twenties, had a striking resemblance to him, same strong jawline, same piercing eyes. But there was something else in his gaze, something cold and assessing. For a fraction of a second, I thought I caught a flicker of something else, resentment? Contempt? Before it vanished behind a neutral expression. “Ethan,” my grandfather gestured towards the empty seat across from him. “Come, sit.” I inclined my head slightly and moved forward, lowering myself into the chair. My instincts were already alert, a silent warning prickling at the back of my mind. “This,” my grandfather began, gesturing towards the older man, “is Victor Sinclair, your uncle.” Victor gave a polite smile, though his eyes remained unreadable. “And this,” my grandfather continued, turning to the younger man, “is Cole Sinclair, Victor’s son, your cousin.” Cole’s lips curved slightly, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. The hostility beneath his gaze was subtle yet undeniable. The President leaned back in his chair, “and gentlemen, this is Ethan Sinclair, son of George and Ruby Sinclair. My lost grandson.” Cole’s grip on the armrest tightened slightly. Even as he forced a smile, I could feel the undercurrents of displeasure. Victor, on the other hand, remained composed, nodding slightly in acknowledgment. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Ethan,” Victor said smoothly. His voice was deep, refined, practiced. “The pleasure’s all mine,” I replied, my tone just as even. Cole leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “So, you’re the long-lost prince,” he mused, his tone light but carrying an unmistakable edge. “Must be quite an adjustment.” I met his gaze head-on. “It is. But then, adapting has never been a problem for me.” His smirk twitched, but before he could respond, a knock sounded at the door again. The guard’s voice rang out. “Miss Olivia is here, sir.” Relief flickered across my grandfather’s face, and for the first time since I had entered the room, the tension eased. “Let her in.” The door opened, and Olivia stepped inside. Her presence was like a breath of fresh air, effortlessly commanding attention. She moved with poise, her eyes scanning the room before landing on me. I stood as she approached, and for a moment, it felt as if the rest of the room had fallen away. Cole’s eyes flickered with something unmistakable. Passion, raw and evident. He didn’t even try to mask it, but Olivia didn’t acknowledge it. Whatever Cole felt for her was entirely one-sided, and from the stiffness of his shoulders, I could tell he knew it too. She greeted my grandfather first, then Victor and Cole, her tone polite yet distant. Finally, she turned to me. “Ethan,” she said, her voice carrying a warmth absent from her other greetings. Her gaze landed on me last. “Ethan,” she said with a small nod, her voice softening slightly. Then, she turned to my grandfather. “Grandfather, I’d like to steal Ethan away for a while, if you don’t mind.” My grandfather chuckled, eyes twinkling. “Steal him? As if I have a choice when you ask so sweetly.” He waved a hand. “Go on. Show him around.” I didn’t miss the way Cole’s jaw tightened. Victor, however, remained composed, simply watching, observing. I kept my expression neutral as I stood and followed Olivia out of the study, her presence an unspoken shield against whatever storm I had just walked into. As soon as we stepped into the corridor, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Well,” I muttered, “that was… something.” Olivia shot me a knowing look. “Welcome to the Sinclair family.” She led me through the mansion, down a grand staircase and into a hallway lined with towering portraits. The air smelled of polished wood and old money, every step we took echoing slightly against the marble floors. “This is the family town hall,” Olivia explained as we stepped through an arched doorway. The room was vast, its walls adorned with elaborate tapestries and gilded frames containing portraits of men and women who bore striking similarities to each other and to me. I walked forward, my gaze landing on a massive oil painting at the far end of the room. It depicted a man seated on an ornate throne, a woman standing beside him, her hand resting on his shoulder. Surrounding them were several figures, some standing tall, others kneeling as if sworn to service.
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Ethan’s POV Inside, the bedroom was nothing short of opulent. A massive king-sized bed, draped in silk sheets, stood against a backdrop of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking an expansive garden. A chandelier hung overhead, casting warm golden light across the room. There was a walk-in closet that looked larger than my old apartment, and a bathroom that gleamed with pristine marble and gold accents. A seating area, complete with a fireplace and leather armchairs, added to the grandeur."Take some time to settle in," Olivia said, her voice softer now. "It’s a lot to process. Rest. Grandfather will want to see you first thing in the morning."She left me alone in the vast room, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through my hair. Just hours ago, I had been in a prison cell, my future nothing but a bleak stretch of empty years. Now, I was standing in the palace, my name carrying a weight I hadn’t yet fully grasped. I l
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Ethan’s POV “That’s your great-grandfather,” Olivia said beside me. “And your great-grandmother.”“They look…” I trailed off, searching for the right word. Regal. Powerful.“Formidable?” Olivia supplied with a smirk. “That’s because they were. The Sinclairs have always been more than just businessmen. They didn’t just build empires. They protected them.”I turned to her. “Protect them?”She gestured toward another painting—a battle scene. Men in suits, wielding weapons, fighting alongside uniformed soldiers. “Every Sinclair is trained. Business, politics, combat. It’s not enough to be rich. Power without strength is meaningless.”I studied the painting, realization dawning. Olivia’s voice softened. “And now, you’re one of them, as you always have been.”“What happens now?” I asked.She turned, motioning for me to follow. “Now, you get ready to begin your training.” We approached the martial arts hall. It was built for function, not luxury. The floors were lined with cushioned mats, t
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Ethan’s POV The silence of my study was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. I didn’t look up immediately, finishing the last few lines of the document I was reviewing. It had been days since I officially entered the Sinclair Empire, and the sheer volume of information I had to absorb felt endless.“Come in.” My voice was calm, measured.One of my personal security guards stepped in, his stance rigid. “Sir, the President requests your presence in his study.I set down the papers, rubbing my temples briefly before rising. “Did he mention why?”The guard shook his head. “No, sir. Only that it is urgent.”I nodded. My grandfather wasn’t one for unnecessary summons. Whatever this was about, it had to be important. Still, I didn’t let it bother me. With a steady breath, I adjusted my cuffs and made my way out.The corridors of the Sinclair estate stretched long and elegant, bathed in the soft glow of chandeliers. Every servant, every guard I passed either bowed or genuflected. It was
CHAPTER 4
Ethan’s POV Inside, the bedroom was nothing short of opulent. A massive king-sized bed, draped in silk sheets, stood against a backdrop of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking an expansive garden. A chandelier hung overhead, casting warm golden light across the room. There was a walk-in closet that looked larger than my old apartment, and a bathroom that gleamed with pristine marble and gold accents. A seating area, complete with a fireplace and leather armchairs, added to the grandeur."Take some time to settle in," Olivia said, her voice softer now. "It’s a lot to process. Rest. Grandfather will want to see you first thing in the morning."She left me alone in the vast room, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through my hair. Just hours ago, I had been in a prison cell, my future nothing but a bleak stretch of empty years. Now, I was standing in the palace, my name carrying a weight I hadn’t yet fully grasped. I l
CHAPTER 3
Ethan’s POVThe clang of the iron bars echoed in my ears, a sharp reminder of my new reality. My cell was cramped, the air thick with the stale scent of confinement. Just hours ago, I had stood before the judge as my world unravelled. My marriage to Vanessa had been legally erased, a mere signature dissolving five years of my life. But that wasn’t the worst part. The gavel had struck like a death knell, sentencing me to seven years for economic crimes and negligence at Hale Pharmaceuticals.Seven years.I slumped onto the thin mattress, staring at the ceiling. The weight of it settled over me, a future painted in monotonous shades of regret and isolation. My name, once respected, was now synonymous with scandal. My so-called friends had vanished, and my family—what little I had—had turned their backs. The Hales had made sure of that.A lifetime ago, I had fought to belong, to prove my worth. And for what? To be discarded like a broken pawn the moment I was no longer useful.A sharp r
CHAPTER 2
Ethan’s POV I was marched down a cold hallway, the overhead lights buzzing faintly. The station smelled of sweat, old coffee, and the faint metallic tang of desperation. We stopped in front of a dimly lit room. Inside, a table sat at the center, flanked by two chairs. On the tabletop, a thick folder lay open, revealing pages of evidence.“Sit,” one of the officers ordered as he pushed me into a chair. I barely had time to adjust before another man entered the room—a detective, his sharp eyes studying me like I was an insect under a microscope. He tossed a stack of papers in front of me.“Do you recognize these?” he asked coolly.I stared at them, my breath hitching. Bank statements. Transaction records. All showing massive amounts funneled into private accounts under my name. My signature was on every page.“This isn’t real,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I never made these transfers. I did not sign any of these papers! Today is my first day of even setting eyes on them.”
CHAPTER 1
Ethan’s POV“Ethan Carter!” barked one of the officers, his tone leaving no room for explanation. My fingers froze on the keyboard as heads shot up around me. The noise level dipped into an eerie silence before erupting into frantic whispers. I never saw it coming. One moment, I was sitting at my desk, going over the final numbers for the day, the soft hum of printers and the low murmur of employees filling the office. The next, the heavy double doors to the finance department slammed open, and the room was flooded with uniformed officers and security guards.I turned my head, my pulse quickening. I still remember the shock as if it were yesterday. I had been poring over quarterly reports in my Manhattan office when the sound of rapid footsteps and raised voices shattered the calm. I rose unsteadily, my heart hammering in my chest, as I tried to form a question. “What’s going on? Who—what is this about?” I managed, my usual firm voice trembling, my words dissolved into a cacophony
