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 “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
Sinclair's Lost Heir[The Rise Of The Betrayed Son-in-law] CHAPTER 7
Vanessa’s POV The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the marble halls of the estate. Nathan stormed through the front door, his gym bag still slung over his shoulder, beads of sweat clinging to his forehead. His pulse pounded with frustration, disbelief churning inside him like a storm. His breath came in short, furious bursts as he strode into the living room, a certain weight pressing against his chest.I sat elegantly on the plush velvet couch, a glass of wine poised between my fingers. The afternoon sun cast warm golden hues over the room, filtering through the grand arched windows, but the serenity of the setting did nothing to mask the irritation that flared inside me the moment Nathan barged in. Across from me, my father sat in his usual stately manner, reading through business documents. The scent of old leather and expensive cigars lingered in the air.Nathan barely gave us time to react before blurting, “Dad! Nessa! You won’t believe this.”Richard lowered his papers
Sinclair's Lost Heir[The Rise Of The Betrayed Son-in-law] CHAPTER 8
Ethan’s POV One year had passed quickly, but it felt like a lifetime.I had learned the weight of the Sinclair name, the immense power it carried, and the enemies it naturally attracted. Under my grandfather’s guidance, I had trained relentlessly—not just in the boardroom but in the harshest martial arts and combat techniques that left me with bruises and victories alike. Every lesson, every challenge had shaped me into someone unrecognizable from the man I once was.But today was different. Today, I was about to prove that I was more than just a name.The mahogany conference table stretched long and imposing in the Sinclair headquarters’ boardroom. I sat beside my grandfather whose aura alone commanded the attention of every executive in the room. Across from me, my uncle, Victor Sinclair, regarded me with barely concealed disdain. He never missed an opportunity to undermine me, to question my place in the empire. But today, there would be no room for doubt.A notification buzzed on
Sinclair's Lost Heir[The Rise Of The Betrayed Son-in-law] CHAPTER 9
Ethan’s POV My grandfather rose to his feet, the entire boardroom hushed. His eyes gleamed with rare excitement, his usual stoic demeanor cracking just enough to reveal pride. He cleared his throat, and with a voice that echoed through the grand hall, he announced, “Ethan, you’ve proven yourself beyond any doubt. Your efforts today have not only saved the Sinclair Empire from catastrophe but have solidified your place in this family.”A murmur of approval swept across the room. Some board members, the ones who had initially doubted me, nodded in newfound respect. Others clapped, acknowledging the victory I had secured for them. Victor, however, remained seated, his jaw set, his fingers tapping against the polished mahogany table in restrained irritation. I didn’t have to look at him to know how much he resented this moment.Grandfather turned to the rest of the board. “In honor of Ethan’s success, I believe a celebration is in order. A dinner, to recognize his achievements.”One of t
Sinclair's Lost Heir[The Rise Of The Betrayed Son-in-law] CHAPTER 10
Ethan’s POV I woke up with a splitting headache from having a little too much to drink last night, thanks to Olivia. Crazy girl. I smiled.I glanced at the clock, it read 05:30am. I didn’t wake alone, my morning wood accompanied me, sadly, there was nowhere warm he could find comfort, so I took to the restroom.Being married to Vanessa for five years had made me learn one thing at least, how to suppress my sexual desires and smile about it. We could go for months and she wouldn’t let me touch her, yet she swelled often with satisfaction. Of course, she had men who gave her pleasure but I couldn’t dare.More than twice in the space of five years, I’ve caught her with different men in our room which she’d rather not sleep in. I tabled the matter before her father once and was scorned for it, so I decided to just let things be, afterall, no one was really on my side.It was on rare occasions when her pleasure buddies couldn’t come through that I became an option worthy of touching her.
Sinclair's Lost Heir[The Rise Of The Betrayed Son-in-law] CHAPTER 11
Vanessa’s POV The boardroom felt colder than usual, though the air conditioning hummed at its regular low setting. I sat at the head of the table, my manicured nails tapping against the polished wood, listening to the grim financial report being read aloud by Nathan. “Hale Pharmaceuticals’ quarterly earnings have fallen by another 9.6%, bringing our total loss in the past year to nearly 34%. Investors are withdrawing their shares at an alarming rate, and the expansion plans into the Asian market have been delayed indefinitely due to lack of funding,” he said, his voice strained but carefully neutral. I crossed my legs and leaned back, the leather chair creaking slightly under my movement. “And what about the distribution deal Collins’ father helped us secure?” I asked, forcing my voice to remain even. Nathan adjusted his tie, his face paling slightly. “The deal helped cut costs, but it doesn’t change the fact that our products are losing desirability. We’re being undercut by compe
Sinclair's Lost Heir[The Rise Of The Betrayed Son-in-law] CHAPTER 12
Vanessa’s POV Adrian staggered to his feet, rubbing his bruised jaw. “You need help, man.”Collins didn’t even glance at him. His eyes were on me, dark, dangerous.Then, without another word, he turned and walked out.The moment the doors slammed behind him, air rushed back into my lungs.The room felt smaller. Suffocating.I swallowed hard, ignoring the stares. Ignoring the tension that still buzzed in the air.Adrian sighed. “You okay?”I nodded, though I wasn’t sure it was true. My hands trembled at my sides.I wasn’t sure if I was more afraid of Collins’ jealousy, or the fact that deep down, I had seen this coming all along but choose to stay because we need his father’s distribution arm. Damn!Embarrassed and not willing to create further scenes, I apologized to my director and crew members and took my leave. The drive home was suffocatingly silent. Collins gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, his jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth might crack.
Sinclair's Lost Heir[The Rise Of The Betrayed Son-in-law] CHAPTER 13
Ethan’s POV The day of the gala had finally arrived.Standing before the massive mirror in my suite, I adjusted the cufflinks on my tailored black tuxedo. The fabric was sleek, the fit perfect, an unmistakable mark of the Sinclair wealth. My reflection stared back at me, steady and composed, but beneath the calm facade, tension simmered. This night wasn’t just a celebration; it was the public announcement of my place in the Sinclair family. After a year of relentless preparation, I was ready to step into the legacy that I had previously never imagined could have been mine.Something inside me somehow managed and felt… off.For the first time in years, I allowed myself to wonder what would it have been like if my parents were still alive? Would my father have clapped me on the shoulder, proud to see his son take his rightful place? Would my mother have smiled, adjusting my tie with those warm, knowing eyes? Would any of these betrayal, the loss, the years of being treated like a nobod
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CHAPTER 51
Ethan’s POV "Pick up the damn phone, Olivia," I muttered under my breath, pacing the living room like a caged animal. I pressed the device harder against my ear, as if sheer force could will her to answer. Another voicemail. Another dead end."Fine," I snapped at the silence, yanking the phone from my ear and staring at the blank screen like it had personally betrayed me. "Ignore me, then. See if I care."I tossed the phone onto the coffee table, the clatter slicing through the heavy stillness of the room. For a moment, I just stood there, breathing hard, hands curled into fists at my sides.Why should I care? She wasn't answering. Big deal.Maybe she was busy. Maybe she finally realized what a bastard I was.Good for her.Wasn't that what I wanted? To push her away before she could get too close?Hadn't I made that crystal clear the last time we met, spitting venom just to watch her flinch?I sank down onto the leather sofa, scrubbing a hand over my face.But what if she wasn’t just
CHAPTER 50
Ethan’s POV “Are you sure you want to do this?” Jordan’s voice crackled through the secure line. “Because once this gets out, there’s no going back.” “No one burns my house and walks away,” I said flatly, gripping the edge of my desk. “Let it burn them instead.”“You’ll be starting a war.”“I didn’t start it. The Hales did the moment they tried to ruin me.”Silence on the other end. Then a slow exhale.“Alright. The files are ready. Everything you asked for—bank transfers, offshore accounts, distribution routes, and the tapes from the warehouse surveillance.”I closed my eyes for a second, letting the gravity of it wash over me. “Send the package anonymously to the District Prosecutor,” I said. “Make sure it can not be traced back to me.” “Already handled. By tonight, the press will be begging for statements.”“Good,” I muttered, staring at the framed photo of myself on the shelf. “Let them watch it burn.” The call ended. It was only a matter of hours before the news spread like
CHAPTER 49
Vanessa’s POV “Of course it’s Nathan’s,” he scoffed, waving the packet. “That brother of yours really comes in handy when you need an alibi, doesn’t he?”“Goodness, Collins, what is wrong with you?” I took a step back, robe clutched tight, trying to gather what little dignity I had left.“Wrong with me?” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I’m not the one playing house in a silk robe with mystery condoms on the floor.”“Nathan brought his junk here, trashed the place, and I’ve been trying to get everything back in order. That’s it. I’m tired. I haven’t even eaten today.”“You want me to believe that?” His voice dropped, low and dangerous. “Then prove it.”My jaw tightened. “Prove it how?”He stepped closer. Too close. “Let me touch you. Right here. Right now.”My breath caught. “What?”“You’re so innocent, right?” he said, pressing a hand against the wall behind me, trapping me. “Then let me touch what’s mine.”“We’re not doing this.” I shoved at his chest, but he didn’t budge
CHAPTER 48
Vanessa’s POV Tired of the whole drama, I slammed the door behind Nathan and his pathetic entourage, locking it with more force than necessary. The bass from the now-silenced speakers still thudded inside my skull, a cruel echo of the madness I had just evicted. Drunk girls with smudged mascara and glittered heels had been stumbling over my Persian rug like it was a damn runway. Nathan, high out of his mind, had laughed at thin air, drooling over the same chaos he dragged in. My home, my place if solace, had turned into a drug-fueled circus in a matter of hours.“Why do I even let him back in?” I muttered aloud, tightening my silk robe around me. “Because he’s my brother? Or because somewhere in my deranged heart I think he’ll change?”Maybe I was the deluded one. Always hoping. Always giving him another chance. But I was done. Done playing mother, fixer, savior.I needed to cleanse every ounce of that filth. I needed a bath, something hot enough to scald off Nathan’s stench from my
CHAPTER 47
Vanessa’s POV As I stepped into the foyer, the sharp thump of bass-heavy music slammed into my ears like a slap to the face. My heel paused mid-step. That sound... it was coming from the west wing. The west wing? That place hadn’t seen life in years.“Who the hell is playing music in there?!” I hissed aloud, my voice slicing through the silence of the hall like a whip.My fingers curled tighter around my clutch, jaw clenched and body tense. Which one of the staff had lost their damn mind? That wing was sacred. Deserted. Locked down. No one went in there. Not unless they wanted to face my wrath.“Have the maids gone stupid? Or just suicidal?” I snapped under my breath, heels stabbing furiously into the marble tiles as I advanced. Each echo of my steps was a countdown.The closer I got, the more the bass trembled through the walls. Rap music, filthy lyrics, distorted and booming with disrespect. My fists balled up.“I swear, if this is someone’s idea of a joke, they won’t live to tell
CHAPTER 46
Vanessa’s POV I had just returned home from seeing Ethan, an experience I would rather not recount to anyone.I sat in my car, parked just outside the house like the marble driveway suddenly demanded my respect. My fingers were still trembling around the steering wheel, nails digging into the leather as if the wheel had wronged me. I couldn’t go inside. Not yet. Not while my heart was still stuck in that cold, heartless office where he’d looked at me like I was filth.“He hates me,” I whispered under my breath, my voice cracking. “He really... hates me.”I tilted my head back against the headrest, blinking away the sting in my eyes. I hadn’t cried when he yelled. Not when he called security. Not even when he spat the word trash like it belonged to me. But now, alone in the quiet bubble of my car, it hit differently.“Who wouldn’t?” I muttered, scoffing bitterly at myself. “I practically destroyed the one person who actually loved me.”He loved me once. I know he did. There was no way
CHAPTER 45
Ethan’s POV Lost in thoughts, the ring from my phone snapped me back into consciousness of my surroundings. I picked it up. It was Jordan.“Good day Ethan.”I really hoped there were goods left in my day today.“Good day, Jordan. What do you have for me today?”“They’re laundering money through a ghost company, Ethan. One that supposedly shut down over thirty years ago.”“What?” I straightened in my seat, pulse spiking. “Say that again.”“A shell corporation. Called Bellemore Industries. Disbanded on paper in ’92. But a few bank records show it’s very much alive. Just—operating from the shadows. Massive offshore transfers. Cayman Islands. Liechtenstein. You name it.”“And you’re sure the Hales are behind this?”“Positive. I followed the money trail, and guess where it leads?” Jordan paused dramatically. “A building owned by none other than Richard Hale. Bought under the alias ‘Carl Donovan.’”I shot up from my chair, heart pounding against my ribs. “An alias?”“Yeah. He used a dead m
CHAPTER 44
Ethan’s POV About an hour or so after Vanessa left, my office still reeked of her lies.I sat slouched in my chair, elbow on the desk, staring at the untouched espresso Clara had brought me earlier. The steam had died, and so had the appetite for anything that resembled normalcy. If chaos had a scent, it was the lingering perfume mix of two women who should’ve never have crossed paths in my life again. Or so I believed. “God,” I muttered, rubbing my temple. “What a mess…”What was I even doing?Trying to breathe in the ruins of a Monday morning that had started with Olivia’s broken heart and ended with Vanessa’s crocodile tears on my floor. How the hell did it get here? My life was spiraling like a damn soap opera I didn’t audition for.The one thing I was thankful for?My grandfather wasn’t around to witness that train wreck.He would’ve raised his brow, cocked his head to the side, and muttered something like, “I built a legacy and left you an empire, and this is how you run it? B
CHAPTER 43
Ethan’s POV “I’m here because I made a mistake,” she said, voice low now, like honey dripping through a cracked spoon. “I messed up, Ethan. But it wasn’t all my fault, I didn’t mean to. You know it wasn’t.” “Don’t you dare,” I warned.She ignored me, charging forward with her twisted, delusional gospel. “They forced me to do it! My family, my father, he hated you. You know that. You saw what they were capable of, I was also being manipulated.” “They didn’t force you to cheat.”Her face twitched. “They didn’t force you to shut me out night after night. They didn’t force you to curl up with every man who offered you validation while your husband begged for scraps of affection.” “Ethan...” “They didn’t force you to kill our baby.”Her breath hitched like I’d driven a dagger straight through her ribcage. But the only thing she clutched was her lie-ridden heart. “You think I don’t remember?” I growled, stepping in close now. “You think I forgot how you told me you were pregnant and
