Nicolas Sinclair
I stare at my phone, willing myself to reply to Natalia’s messages and failing to. I should have been putting some effort into getting to improve my marriage with my wife, but instead, I ignored her for a week straight until she showed up at my office.Three years ago, I could not see myself marrying her, but I had no choice. One way or another, I’ll have to learn to live with her. I sigh and run a hand through my hair, my thoughts turning back to last night.Sitting through that dinner with Natalia was much harder than I expected it to be. All night, all she talked about was fashion shows and holidays she wanted to go on. She was somewhat concerned about what our fourth yearly honeymoon would be like, and whether it’d be extravagant enough for her tastes, but she was never remotely interested in what a marriage between us would look like.But then again, neither was I.The idea for a yearly honeymoon was hers, I don't even know what that means. But I've gone along with it for three years, just to make her happy. The only people who knew about me and Natalia's marriage were our families and the staff that worked in our house.I don't know why I wanted to keep it a secret, but the idea of people knowing about the marriage wasn't appealing to me. I'm just glad Natalie finally agreed to a secret marriage after several convinces. I'm surprised she hasn't lashed out at me for ignoring her and posted it on her I*******m for her millions of followers to see.Pretty sure it would increase after that, once people find out she's married to a billionaire. I groan while I flip through the pages of the file, I look outside, through the glass and I'm met with the same empty share that I looked at three minutes ago. I think of anything that can help distract me from the fact that Rosalie isn't in her office where she's supposed to be. The empty chair looks back at me as I stare at her office through the one-way glass again.Where the hell is she? My head begins to bring up different scenarios and I almost break my phone when I begin to imagine her on a date with that fuck face, David Muller.I don't know when Rosalie began to vex me like this. She's been working here for more than five years and not once has she or her actions affected me in the past."Where is she?" I asked one of the temporary assistants.“Mr. Sinclair,” she says, bowing her head slightly. “Rosie left hurriedly yesterday after receiving a call from her mother. From what I could tell, her grandmother is missing. They don’t know where she’s gone, and she has been missing for hours. She sent me a message to fill in this morning.”My eyes widen as worry sets in. I had no idea she lived with her grandmother.“She left last night, you say?" That must be why she didn't get the reservations I asked for."Yes, sir." She says. I mod and walk off to my office “Mr. Sinclair! I finalized the interview schedule. Please take a look at it.”I hold my hand up and shake my head. “Not now.”My office door slams closed behind me, and ten seconds later, I’ve got Christopher Harper on the line.“Sinclair? Before you ask me for anything at all, please know that Alanna is still mad you forgot.”“Shut up and listen,” I snap. “Rosalie's grandmother is missing. I need you to find her within the hour. She’s old, and she’s been missing since last night according to what I just heard. Find her, and make sure she’s fine. I want a medical team on standby too, just in case.”“You got it,” he says instantly. “I’ll update you every ten minutes. I got you, man. We’ll find her.”I sit down behind my desk, beside myself with worry. If this was my own grandmother, I’d fucking lose it. Harper better come through for me.I tap my finger impatiently, unable to focus on anything. Should I call Rosalie and go to her? Am I even of any help to her right now? If I showed up now, would that only further distress her?Christopher Harper: we gained control over all the cameras near her house, and we’re combing through the footage now to see if we can find Rosalie’s grandmother’s trail.I stare at my phone, feeling like there’s more I should be doing, but unsure what. I cup the back of my neck, unable to calm my racing heart.A knock sounds on my door, and I sit up, welcoming the distraction. The door opens, and Rosalie walks in, her hair disheveled and her mascara smudged. I search her eyes and I don't miss the panic in them.“M-Mr Sinclair,” she says, her voice soft. She pauses in front of my desk and stares down at me. I’ve never seen her look at me that way.She’s never looked at me with quite so much trust in those beautiful hazel eyes. “I'm so sorry to disturb you, sir," she sniffs holding back her tears. "But I'm desperate and I need your help. I’d like to make a deal.”I glance at my phone, but I haven’t received another update from Christopher yet, and I’m getting restless. “A deal?” I ask, intrigued.She nods. “I need something, and I need you to give it your all. In return, I’ll do anything. I'll take on extra hours without pay, I'll reduce your workload immensely, and anything that I can do to help more I will do it. Please, just help me." Her voice cracks and I want to pull her into me and soothe her.I raise my brows, surprised by her bravado. I wasn’t sure she’d come to me for help at all, I thought she’d stumble into my office, shaking and scared to ask for my help. I should’ve known better.“What is it you need, Rosalie?”She hesitates, a hint of doubt creeping into her eyes. “Mr. Sinclair, I need you to find my grandmother for me. She…” Her voice breaks, and she clears her throat as she straightens her back. “She went for a walk last night, and she hasn’t come home. It’s been more than ten hours, and I’m worried. Find her for me, and I’ll make sure your workload is reduced drastically. Please, sir. I know you don't like me, but I'm desperate and my grandmother means a lot to me.” She thinks I don't like her?How do I explain to her that every day for the past three years, thoughts of what her body looks like under all those hideous work clothes she wears, keep plaguing my mind? How did I not see it before? This is the solution to all of my problems.“How much does your grandmother mean to you?” I ask, my voice soft.Her eyes flash, and she tenses. “She’s everything to me. My grandmother raised me, and I’d do anything for her. I’ll beg if you want me to, s-sir. There’s nothing I won’t do.”I smirk, finally seeing a sliver of hope. “She means everything to you? Then give me everything in return. I’ll make every single resource at my disposal available to you, on one condition.”Rosalie hesitates, but then she nods. “I meant what I said,” she tells me. “There’s nothing I won’t do.”I clasp my hands and grin. “Become my mistress, Rosalie.” It’s risky, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. There’s no other way for me to keep her by my side, and this would solve both issues. It will get rid of David Muller, and I get to chain Rosalie to me.She stares at me, wide-eyed. “I… what?”I lean in and rest my elbow on my desk, my chin pressed against my fist. “Give yourself to me. If you do, I’ll do everything in my power to find your grandmother as quickly as humanly possible.”She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. You… you’re already married, sir. This isn’t…”I wave my hand and smile up at her sweetly. “Semantics,” I tell her, my heart racing. I need her to say yes. “Tell me you’ll become my mistress, Rosalie. The rest, we’ll figure out later.”She looks into my eyes, and for a moment, I see a hint of longing in her gaze, but disdain drowns it out. “Yes,” she tells me, her voice soft, defeated. “Help me find my grandmother, and I’ll do it. I'll give myself to you, I'll become your mistress.”Relief unlike anything I’ve ever felt before rushes through me, and I smirk. Before I can even utter another word, my phone starts to buzz. I pick it up and read the messages Christopher sent me before looking back at my soon-to-be mistress, my heart finally at ease.“We found her. She’s being escorted home right now. She’s fine, but she has some scratches on her hands, and she isn’t sure where she got them. My medical team is with her, and she’s being treated as we speak. From what I understand, she got on a bus and then became confused, so she stayed on it, switching back and forth at each end station.” I rise to my feet and grab my suit jacket.“Let’s go. We’ll head over to your grandma’s house. We should arrive at the same time as she does if we leave right now.” I tell her with a proud smile on my face.It wasn’t until the words left my mouth that I realized this is what I want above all else. I want Rosalie as my mistress.Rosalie As I took the slow intentional steps towards my office, with my heart in my throat and my palms clammy from nervousness. I hope to God that Mr Sinclair showed up later than usual or didn't even come to work today at all.I haven't seen him since he helped with the search for Grams. I was so scared when I heard she went missing. I remember going home and searching for hours on end. My mind kept straying to places I couldn't accept.What if something happened to her? What if she slipped and fell... No, Rosalie! All these thoughts became much worse when my mother told me that Grams was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, and said it was my fault she went missing. And she was right. If only I had just taken up a second job or used the money I've been saving up for a house, I should have been able to scrap up a fair amount to pay for a retirement home for Grams.I was so fucking scared of losing her that I didn't realize how much keeping her home could have been worse.I got a bigger kick
Rosalie It's been a week since I signed my life away to the devil. Literally.After I signed the contract, I assumed Mr. Sinclair would demand my presence immediately but he's been radio silent for a week. Even at work, he doesn't acknowledge the contract or the contents of it. He is as professional as ever and it's driving me mad. The way he has been acting has made me begin to think that the entire thing was a scenario I made up in my head.I mean why would my boss ask me to be his Mistress? It would have been so much better if this was the handiwork of my crazy imagination, but the two-page contract occupying more space than expected in my handbag said otherwise.I had sent him an email about the STD test I took. It's not like I needed to take one anyway, I'd never had sex before.It's not like I didn't want to have sex or it didn't interest me, I guess I've just been too busy taking care of everyone to consider any sort of sexual relationship.And now there's a high chance that
Rosalie It's currently six-thirty p.m. I got to my parents' home around five p.m. and had a late dinner with Gran because she refused to eat unless I was there. After dinner, I cleared out the dishes before preparing to go to my house."Rosalie!" My father's loud voice calls out to me. I rinse my hand and go to the parlor where he must be. "Where the bloody hell is it?" I hear him murmuring before I turn the corner and see my father searching for my handbag."Dad, what's the meaning of this? What are you doing?" I snatch the bag from the table and out of his reach.He gives me an outstretched palm, "I-I need some money, Rosie. Give me money." He staggers a little before getting his balance. He's drunk. Nothing new here I guess."I don't have any cash on me. The last one I had is what I used to buy Gran some dinner on my way home.""Liar! Give me some money or I'll sell the fucking shop," he tells angrily before tossing the table across the room.My heart breaks, "Dad I don't have any
Rosalie "Take the rest off," Nicolas commands referring to my blouse. I reach for the hem of my blouse before pulling it over my head. A sharp inhale of breath leaves his mouth when I'm standing in front of him in just my underwear and heels.The way his eyes rake my body makes me self-conscious and I slowly wrap my arm around myself covering my body from his preying eyes."Don't," He warns. "Drop your hands." He comes closer till there's only a mere inch separating us. "You're fucking perfect." He exclaims breathily before claiming my mouth with his. The first few seconds of the kiss are rough. It's a battle for dominance as he bites my lower lip so I can give his tongue entry. I finally give in and kiss him, taking what I’ve been wanting all along.Nicholas groans and fists my hair, his touch rough as he forces my lips open, deepening our kiss. His hands roam over my body with such urgency that he’s almost got me believing that this is more than just simple lust.“Fuck, Rosalie,” he
Nicholas I've always thrived on control. All my life, since I can remember I've wanted certain things to go the way I want them. If it's in my power and I want it, then it's happening.Which is why Rosalie Maxwell has spent the last two nights in my bed with my cock buried deep inside her. When I asked Rosalie to become my mistress in exchange for my help, I knew she'd do it. I had no idea why I was so desperate to have her sexually, all I knew was I could no longer deny the sudden sexual attraction that had sprouted for her. It was within my control so I decided to do something about it.I know I'm an asshole for manipulating her into signing the contract but I got what I wanted and that's all that matters to me. My mind travels to our first night together, I assumed Rosalie wasn't a virgin I had no idea why I did. She solidified that assumption after I got a copy of her STDS test in my email. And now that I think of it, I'm sure she only sent it because I asked.We never had any co
Rosalie "Hi, Grams!" I exclaim excitedly once I see her sitting in her favorite rocking chair."Rosalie, my darling. I've missed you. You haven't come to see me in days," she tells me and a hint of guilt makes my chest tighten.I've been really busy these past couple of days with work and... other things. There's a new contract that Mr. Sinclair is trying to acquire so it's been a stressful couple of days and nights for me. "I'm sorry, Grams. I've been busy at work, but I brought you your favorite burger to make up for it." I tell her happily before kissing her cheek and taking a seat beside her.I turn the fan on and I'm happy to see that the electricity isn't out anymore. I almost forgot to pay the bill because I've been too caught up with work during the day and then attending to Mr. Sinclair later at night. I've been meeting up with him every day for this week and it has always been the same. We have sex and then I leave, doesn't matter what time it is. He never objects, but he h
RosalieNicholas looks up in surprise when I walk in, a frown marring his handsome face as his gaze roams over my attire. I look down at myself, taking in the jeans and t-shirt I’m wearing, embarrassment rendering me speechless for a moment. I can count the times I’ve been around him in casual clothing on one hand. I never compromise on my professionalism, and neither does he.He crosses his arms and leans back in his seat, his eyes on mine. There’s something captivating about Nicholas Sinclair. He has this habit of making women feel like they have his full attention, and I’m not immune to it either, despite my best attempts to resist him."Rosalie, good evening.""Good evening, sir." I hope my tone doesn't expose my lack of confidence and the fact I'd been crying on my way here. "I had no idea anyone was here tonight," I add."Yeah, I couldn't sleep so I decided to come here and get some work done.""Oh, yeah me too." There's a short awkward silence, "I'll be in my office." I tell him
Rosalie "Rosalie, it's late right now but I'll send a message of the list of tasks I want you to get done by tomorrow," Nicholas tells me."Yes, sir. If you don't mind, I'd like a quick briefing on the tasks.He nods, "I want you to make reservations for my wife and me and also send her a bouquet of roses by one p.m." I feel my heart sink into my stomach and I can't help the hurt that suddenly covers me.My lips part to speak but no words come out of them. "Rosalie," Nicholas calls, snapping me out of my daze. "Did you hear everything I just said?""Y-yes, sir. Roses and reservations." I smile, "Got it."I keep trying to convince myself that I don’t care and that I’m happy for him when nothing could be further from the truth.Every night, my mind has been tormenting me with images of him with Natalia, warping my memories until all I can see is him touching her the way he touched me.When I close my eyes, I hear him whispering into her ear, telling her to look at no one but him. Just
Rosalie A year had passed since the whirlwind of my tour ended, and now I stood at the threshold of a new chapter in my life. Nicholas and I had returned home, and I couldn’t help but reflect on how far we had come. I remembered the day I announced my engagement to Anna, her face lighting up with joy as she squealed and pulled me into a tight embrace. “Oh my gosh, Rosalie! You’re getting married!” she had exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. We had laughed and cried and laughed again while we watched romcom and drank ice cream, feeling a warmth in my heart that I had never known before. After that, I had rushed to visit Grams to share the news. I could still picture how her face would lighten up and what she would say if she was here, her eyes glistening with tears of happiness. “Oh, my sweet Rosie, I always knew you’d find someone special,” she would say, her voice filled with pride. I had told her everything—the proposal, the plans, and how Nicholas had swept me o
Rosalie It's been a month since Nicholas proposed to me. We decided to keep it a surprise from everyone until after I was done touring. At first, I didn't know how Anna was going to feel about Nicholas and I getting back together, and I told him about it. That was until he told me how she had come to his office and gave him the longest and most useful pep talk of his life. He also kept his word and followed me to work and waited every single day. And the gifts never stopped even though we were back together.The tour ended with a grand exhibition attended by the movers and shakers of oak view’s art world. The exhibition took place in a big hall, and every photgrapher had their own section in the pop-up gallery.It was exhilarating, nerve-wracking, and utterly surreal.I stared at my little slice of heaven and the people passing through it, dressed to the nines and examining each piece with what I hoped were admiring eyes.I’d grown by leaps and bounds as a photographer over the
Nicholas That’s Scorpio.” Rosalie pointed to a spot in the sky. “Do you see it?”I followed her gaze toward the constellation. It looked like any other cluster of stars.“Mmmhmm. Looks great.”She turned her head and narrowed her eyes. “Do you really see it, or are you lying?”“I see stars. Lots of them.”Rosalie huffed out a half groan, half laugh. “You’re hopeless, Nicholas.”“I told you, I’m not and never will be an astronomy expert. I’m just here for the view and the company.” I kissed the top of her head.We lay on a pile of blankets and cushions outside our glamping resort in Caravans Desert, one of the top stargazing destinations. After all the shit that’d gone down last month, this was the perfect place to reset now that she has given me another chance. So I brought her to this resort six days ago. We’d spent the past four days hiking volcanoes, luxuriating in hot springs, and exploring sand dunes. My assistant had nearly keeled over with shock when I told her I was
Rosalie My dates with Nicholas had been really successful. And he lived up to his promise-slash-threat of showing up every. Single. Day. He was there in the morning when I left for my fellowship, usually with a vanilla latte and blueberry scone—my favorites. He was there to walk me home after my daily photography time. Other times, especially when I was with other people or exploring the city on the weekends, he was less conspicuous, but he was there. I felt his presence even though I couldn’t see him.I never thought Nicholas Sinclair would become my stalker, but there we were.On top of that, gifts arrived every day. By the boatload.By the end of the first week, my apartment looked like I was opening an indoor garden. I donated everything to a local hospital—the roses of every color, the vivid purple orchids and sweet white lilies, the cheerful sunflowers and delicate peonies.By the end of the second week, I owned enough jewelry to make the Duchess of Cambridge green with env
Rosalie After our date, the gifts didn't stop. They kept coming. By the end of the third week, I was knee-deep in gourmet chocolates, gift baskets, and custom-made desserts. I didn’t care about fancy jewels or flowers, so those gifts didn’t matter to me. It was the little things that tore holes in my heart—the red velvet cupcakes that spelled out I’m Sorry; a rare, vintage Japanese camera I’d searched for for years but had never found for sale. By the end of the fourth week, I was torn between tearing my hair out in frustration and crumbling like a sandcastle at high tide. “We need to talk,” I said Friday afternoon after I left my lighting techniques workshop. Nicholas lounged against a light pole outside the building, infuriatingly gorgeous in jeans and a white T-shirt. Aviators hid his eyes, but the intensity of his gaze seared through the glasses and burned into my flesh. “Sure,” Nicholas said, unfazed by the attention he was getting. He was probably used to it. While he foll
Rosalie I didn’t move back in with Nicholas. Part of me wanted to, but I wasn’t ready to jump in with both feet again so soon.I did, however, agree to another date with him.Three days after our movie night, we arrived at a quiet corner of the Oak View Botanic Garden. It was a gorgeous afternoon, all clear skies and golden sunshine, and the picnic setup looked like something out of a fairytale.A low wooden table stretched across a thick ivory blanket, surrounded by huge cushions, gold and glass floor lanterns, and an oversized wicker hamper. The table itself was set with porcelain plates and a feast of foods, including baguettes, charcuterie, and desserts.It was amazing. And Nicholas lived up to his promise-slash-threat of showing up every. Single. Day. He was there in the morning when I left for my fellowship, usually with a vanilla latte and blueberry scone—my favorites. He was there to walk me home after my workshops.Other times, especially when I was with other peo
Nicholas "My sweet girl, it’s so nice to see you!” Freya brushed past me and swept Rosalie up in a hug. She only used the sweet girl endearment for her grandchildren, but apparently, she’d extended it to Rosalie. “The house isn’t the same without you.”I scowled at her pointed tone. She’d given me the cold treatment all week. I was pretty sure she’d burned my pork chops on purpose the other night. I’d forced down two bites before I gave up and ordered takeout. It wasn’t just her, either; even Edward my driver had cast disapproving glances my way when he thought I wasn’t looking.My staff didn’t know what happened with Rosalie amd I. They only knew she was gone, and they blamed me for it.Hell, I blamed myself too, which was why I was trying to make amends.I’d spent the past couple of days since my call with Rosalie planning the date, and my nerves were a humiliating wreck. I hadn’t been this nervous since I was a high school freshman asking out the most popular girl in school.
NicholasOne ring. Two. Three.I paced my room, my stomach twisted with nerves as I waited for her to answer.It was ten-thirty, which meant she was getting ready for bed. She usually took an hour to wind down with a shower or a bath, depending on how stressed she was; a bafflingly intricate ten-step skincare routine, and some reading, if she wasn’t too tired.I’d timed my call so I’d catch her after she got out of the shower.Four rings. Five.Assuming, of course, she picked up my call.My nerves pulled tighter.Rosalie gave me her number that afternoon, which meant she wanted me to call, right? If she didn’t, she would’ve simply left. Hell, a part of me had expected her to.I’d lingered in that damn coffee shop for almost two hours on the off chance I’d see her. She went there every day, but her timing varied depending on her workload.It wasn’t the world’s greatest plan, but it’d worked, even if it’d meant skipping a lunch video call meeting.Six rings. Sev—“Hello?” Her voice flow
Rosalie “Hey, Rosalie. The usual?”“Yes, please. Make it four,” I said as the barista rang me up. I frequented the coffee shop near the main building so often they’d memorized my order. “Thanks, Sue.”“No problem.” She smiled. “See you tomorrow.”I paid and moved to the pickup area, only half looking at where I was going. I was too distracted by the flood of new messages scrolling across my screen. Mostly from Anna and maybe one or two from Ares.With the way she sent numerous messages at once, one would think she's in trouble.She probably wanted to congratulate me on the success of the Picture Ball. According to her and Sarah, news outlets had deemed it “one of the most exquisite balls in the Picture Balls history” in their Sunday style roundup, which meant I woke up that morning with even more messages crowding my inbox.It was only Monday, and I already had twenty-two new client inquiries, five interview requests, and countless invitations to balls, screenings, and private par