It seemed as though there were secrets hiding around every corner and unsaid statements filling the space. Opposite me, Victor Reyes stood with his arms crossed and an angry composure. He was relishing every moment of my bewilderment and mounting mistrust. "Victor," I spoke once more, trying to sound as calm as I could despite my internal turmoil. "Be honest with me. In all of this, what is your actual role? How involved are you in the conflict between Sinclair and Vandenberg?" His lips curled into a smile as he cocked his head. "Why do you think I'm the one stirring things up, Arielle? I haven't done anything—well, nothing unnecessary, anyway." "So why is it that you are at the center of this mess?" With a strong voice, I shot back. "It appears like your shadow is connected to Jay, his family, and the business conflict. And I'm curious as to why." Victor's eyes were unreadable as he stared at me for too long. As if he were weighing each word, he answered slowly, "I think you're o
It was a blur on the way home. Each of Victor's remarks rang louder than the last as they replayed themselves in my mind. Jay may or may not be in love with you. In any case, he is concealing more than you can ever comprehend. As I tried to force the image of Victor's arrogant face from my mind, my hold on the steering wheel became more firm. But every time I turned off his warning, it reverberated more loudly. What if Victor had been correct? What if Jay, behind his meticulously crafted façade, had been taking advantage of me all along?In the distance, the black silhouette of the mansion seemed more ominous and chilly than normal. After parking, I inhaled deeply and entered, my shoes clicking on the marble floor as I searched for Jay. It was too quiet in the house. Every room I went into was filled with shadows, as though every area of this opulent home was a part of the lies and secrets Victor had alluded to.At last, I located him in his study, standing with his back to me and his
THE NEXT DAY....As I searched through every document I had once gathered from my father's study, the air felt heavier around me, stifling with questions and secrets. This was about far more than Jay and me now; it was about years of history between our families. Victor's cautions and the wary expression in Jay's eyes when he cautioned me that some realities were "dangerous" remained with me. I needed answers, whether they were hazardous or not. And until I got them, I wouldn't give up. My first destination was the attic, which was overflowing with old trunks and dusty boxes containing artifacts belonging to my family. I spent hours searching through old letters and pictures before discovering a leather-bound journal at the base of an antique wooden trunk. Based on the handwriting scribbled within, it was my father's. As I cautiously turned the delicate pages, I noticed notes mentioning the Sinclair family name, which made my heart race. I was particularly interested in one entry:
My thoughts were racing as I walked down the hallway, repeating all of the things my mother had said to me in our most recent talk. Although her evasions and half-truths had infuriated me, I couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that she knew much more than she was admitting. I had to stop ignoring it. I needed her to come clean if she was really involved in the Sinclair family's demise—to provide me with the answers that would allow me to escape this web of lies and betrayals.I discovered her seated in the sunroom, staring out into the yard with a detached expression. My wrath flared up again when I saw her sitting there so composedly while my whole world was being upended."Mother," I exclaimed, my tone so piercing that she turned startled. "We must speak. And I want the whole truth this time."She instantly composed herself by blinking, but something—guilt, perhaps—flitted in her eyes. "Arielle, sweetheart, what's going on?"I balled my hands and tried to speak steadily, my eyes st
With my heart racing and the weight of my family's betrayal bearing down on me, I drove to Jay's apartment. Feeling as though I were drowning in quicksand, I repeatedly reenacted my chat with my mother, causing the streets to blur past. I couldn't continue to hide this from Jay; I knew what I had to do. Regardless of the repercussions, he had a right to know the truth. Jay was already there when I got there, leaning against the wall and looking anxious. As I got closer, he stood up straight, his eyes piercing and wary. He must have noticed the struggle in my eyes because, for a brief moment, his normally guarded demeanor softened. Despite my internal emotional maelstrom, I said, "We need to talk," in a firm voice. He crossed his arms across his chest and said, "Go ahead." His sharp, unwavering gaze never left mine. I forced myself to look him in the eye and inhaled deeply. "What happened to your family was due to my family. Everything that led to your father's demise was planned b
With the ice melting, I gazed into the bottom of my nearly empty bourbon glass. I looked up from my glass to the window a little distance away, watching as the sun set beyond the bar. I felt so alone in my self-pity, watching life move on around me with only the faint clinking of glasses and soft chattering of voices. My life's worst day had been that one. Ethan, my fiancee— ex-fiancee, had betrayed me in the most heinous way. Memories of him with his secretary smoldering in the background, The man I'd been in love with for three years, the man I had imagined spending the rest of my life with, his tongue fighting another woman, his lies disentangled like a thread I had failed to pull sooner. I was hurt and broken like never before, I felt a sting of tears threatening to fall again but blinked them away, resolving not to cry anymore. Not for him. Not here. I felt uncomfortable; I'd adjust to my seat severally; it did nothing but make me comfortable, or maybe it was just the burde
I sat firmly in the passenger seat, my heart pounding more quickly than the engine's faint hum. Jay, the Billionaire, had offered to give me a ride. His name alone seemed to draw attention and power. It was astounding to consider that I never would have envisaged myself on this day, much less sharing a seat with him. My night had taken an unusual turn, and I noticed him out of the corner of my eye. Even though the city lights were blurring as we went by, the tension in the car was unmistakable. Jay exuded mystery partly because of his sharp features and calm manner. My mind was racing with everything that had transpired that day, including the heartache and Ethan's adultery. Why would someone like Jay Sinclair stop to help me?I couldn't get the feeling that everything in his universe had a reason, thus nothing was adding up. "Why did you stop?" I finally broke the silence, but my voice sounded forced. While his gaze remained fixed on the road ahead, I observed his fingers beco
Even when the car's tires skidded to a stop outside my apartment building, my mind continued to race. The bombshell that Jay Sinclair had just dropped had destroyed all pretense of routine in my life. A union based on contract? It was nonsensical. However, as I cast a sidelong glance at him, his expression serene, I couldn't help but feel the oppressive weight of my reality. Ethan had betrayed my affection and my confidence. My life was disintegrating. For some strange reason, Jay Sinclair had entered my life and promised me a way out, but at what price? I clenched my fingers around the passenger door handle, my knuckles becoming white from strain. I was breathing. I needed air. I pushed the door wide and whispered to myself, "I need to go." Jay remained motionless, observing my every move as I got out of the car with his eyes. The weight in his emotionless, calm voice, "I'll give you time to think, Arielle," shot a shiver down my spine. "Don't take too long, though. The timer i
With my heart racing and the weight of my family's betrayal bearing down on me, I drove to Jay's apartment. Feeling as though I were drowning in quicksand, I repeatedly reenacted my chat with my mother, causing the streets to blur past. I couldn't continue to hide this from Jay; I knew what I had to do. Regardless of the repercussions, he had a right to know the truth. Jay was already there when I got there, leaning against the wall and looking anxious. As I got closer, he stood up straight, his eyes piercing and wary. He must have noticed the struggle in my eyes because, for a brief moment, his normally guarded demeanor softened. Despite my internal emotional maelstrom, I said, "We need to talk," in a firm voice. He crossed his arms across his chest and said, "Go ahead." His sharp, unwavering gaze never left mine. I forced myself to look him in the eye and inhaled deeply. "What happened to your family was due to my family. Everything that led to your father's demise was planned b
My thoughts were racing as I walked down the hallway, repeating all of the things my mother had said to me in our most recent talk. Although her evasions and half-truths had infuriated me, I couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that she knew much more than she was admitting. I had to stop ignoring it. I needed her to come clean if she was really involved in the Sinclair family's demise—to provide me with the answers that would allow me to escape this web of lies and betrayals.I discovered her seated in the sunroom, staring out into the yard with a detached expression. My wrath flared up again when I saw her sitting there so composedly while my whole world was being upended."Mother," I exclaimed, my tone so piercing that she turned startled. "We must speak. And I want the whole truth this time."She instantly composed herself by blinking, but something—guilt, perhaps—flitted in her eyes. "Arielle, sweetheart, what's going on?"I balled my hands and tried to speak steadily, my eyes st
THE NEXT DAY....As I searched through every document I had once gathered from my father's study, the air felt heavier around me, stifling with questions and secrets. This was about far more than Jay and me now; it was about years of history between our families. Victor's cautions and the wary expression in Jay's eyes when he cautioned me that some realities were "dangerous" remained with me. I needed answers, whether they were hazardous or not. And until I got them, I wouldn't give up. My first destination was the attic, which was overflowing with old trunks and dusty boxes containing artifacts belonging to my family. I spent hours searching through old letters and pictures before discovering a leather-bound journal at the base of an antique wooden trunk. Based on the handwriting scribbled within, it was my father's. As I cautiously turned the delicate pages, I noticed notes mentioning the Sinclair family name, which made my heart race. I was particularly interested in one entry:
It was a blur on the way home. Each of Victor's remarks rang louder than the last as they replayed themselves in my mind. Jay may or may not be in love with you. In any case, he is concealing more than you can ever comprehend. As I tried to force the image of Victor's arrogant face from my mind, my hold on the steering wheel became more firm. But every time I turned off his warning, it reverberated more loudly. What if Victor had been correct? What if Jay, behind his meticulously crafted façade, had been taking advantage of me all along?In the distance, the black silhouette of the mansion seemed more ominous and chilly than normal. After parking, I inhaled deeply and entered, my shoes clicking on the marble floor as I searched for Jay. It was too quiet in the house. Every room I went into was filled with shadows, as though every area of this opulent home was a part of the lies and secrets Victor had alluded to.At last, I located him in his study, standing with his back to me and his
It seemed as though there were secrets hiding around every corner and unsaid statements filling the space. Opposite me, Victor Reyes stood with his arms crossed and an angry composure. He was relishing every moment of my bewilderment and mounting mistrust. "Victor," I spoke once more, trying to sound as calm as I could despite my internal turmoil. "Be honest with me. In all of this, what is your actual role? How involved are you in the conflict between Sinclair and Vandenberg?" His lips curled into a smile as he cocked his head. "Why do you think I'm the one stirring things up, Arielle? I haven't done anything—well, nothing unnecessary, anyway." "So why is it that you are at the center of this mess?" With a strong voice, I shot back. "It appears like your shadow is connected to Jay, his family, and the business conflict. And I'm curious as to why." Victor's eyes were unreadable as he stared at me for too long. As if he were weighing each word, he answered slowly, "I think you're o
With the weight of the letter like a stone in my chest, I sat back in my father's former study and stared at it. Each letter in the worn script was a hint at secrets I had never been told, whispering to me from the past. My father's comments, which were tinged with mystery and remorse, sounded like a last-ditch effort to communicate across time. Every line contained shadows that I had never noticed before, waiting to draw me in."It was a betrayal that neither Evelyn nor I could have predicted." The Sinclairs. The handwriting was shaky and erratic in spots, as though the writer had been unsure about how much to divulge. The reference of a contract—a deal gone wrong that somehow tied us to the predicament we were in today—was then written in ragged letters.My mind was racing, and my heart was pounding. Evelyn, my mother, had never discussed my father's business or anything related to his history. However, this letter suggested that she was far more knowledgeable than she had previousl
When I returned to my family's estate, the night air was heavy with anxiety. Memories came flooding back to me when I heard the house's familiar creaks and smelled the smell of old wood. Parts of my past, both treasured and gloomy, were preserved here. The house felt strange tonight, though, as though its worn walls were concealing secrets as well. I had explained to Jay that my mother was ill and needed me here, but in reality, I just needed time to myself, to reflect and look for hints. I had a gut feeling that this house held answers that were just waiting to be discovered. I couldn't sleep, so I explored the dark hallways until I ended up outside my father's former study. My hand lingered on the door handle as I hesitated. He used to passionately guard this chamber, which had been his haven. But tonight, I pushed the door open and went inside because I needed answers. The study was just as I remembered it: a solid desk strewn with papers, a dark mahogany bookcase lined with vo
I woke up the next morning feeling more determined than ever. Jay's scathing remarks from the night before reverberated in my head. The magnitude of the truths he had yet to divulge tormented me more than his treachery. Under the surface of our families' relationship, there was something sinister and unresolved, and I was eager to find out what it was. I got out of bed with steely determination, my gaze straying to the dim light of morning peeking through my curtains. Eager to explore the history my father had left behind, I hurriedly put on pants and a sweatshirt. I was now more certain than ever that the key to comprehending Jay's hatred and Victor's vendetta lied in my father's old laptop, which I had with him and valued because it was the only thing I had him. The records and documents I had looked at last night had hardly touched the surface. As I carried my laptop to the study for some peace and quiet, my pulse raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety. The silence in the roo
As Jay confronted Victor Reyes across the polished marble floor, the room's atmosphere was heavy and tense. The unspoken but profoundly felt weight of years of hostility, dishonesty, and treachery hung between them. My heart was racing as I stood by Jay's side, feeling like an unwanted bystander to a conflict that had begun long before I was even involved.A gleam of triumph flickered in Victor's eyes as he grinned. He snarled, "You think this is over, Sinclair?" "You're not nearly as smart as you think you are." His voice fell to a poisonous whisper as he stepped closer. "You're exactly like your father—a man who would sacrifice everything to preserve a small portion of his pride."As Jay struggled to maintain his calm, his jaw tightened and his hands curled at his sides. But I could see the anger simmering just beneath the surface, the fissures in his armor. I put a light hand on his arm in the hopes that it would help him feel more grounded, but he didn't even acknowledge it. With