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Chapter One
Hudson
Sinclair.
My last name is synonymous with power, exclusivity, and money.
Everyone knows that. The name means billions. Respect. Quality. And with it, I’ve anyone I want, everything I want.
Except maybe this…
If it’s true, that is.
I stare down at the letter long after my father’s lawyer leaves.
A small thrill, like smoke, twists through me.
Fuck. The Sinclair jewels, things of myth and legend. They might be true.
If I’m to believe the letter and my father’s lawyer.
It’s the one-year anniversary of his death, and he was a hard man to love. Respect, yes. Love… no. But it isn’t about love, no matter what people say. Respect, integrity, work, power, those are the things that matter.
So this letter, the visit, and everything with it are all completely unexpected.
I run my thumb over the envelope.
The paper is thick, handmade, top of the game in its craftsmanship. That was my old man all over. Every single detail to him mattered, and it seems, still does.
Even long after his death.
Hudson Sinclair. My name’s written on the front in strong penmanship. A dark brown-black ink. Fountain pen. Old with a gold nib from the shading and line thickness differences.
Pity my father hadn’t cared about people as much as he did about things and money and the Sinclair empire.
Then again, would my brothers and I be here if he hadn’t? Maybe. Maybe not. We’d be somewhere in the top percentile, I know that. We were all born with the need for power and money and success.
But this…
It brings everything into a different playing field. Not that I have much time for play.
I sit back in the leather chair in my office. It’s late, after nine in the evening, but the office of my own empire still ticks. I work hard and I expect my staff to do the same.
For once, my mind isn’t on work.
Without another thought, I send a group text to my brothers.
That little thrill inside grows, fans its own flames.
Making money comes easy. Hard work beats like the blood in my veins. But this, oh fuck yeah, this is my heritage, my legacy, an unexpected inheritance, and the one thing money can’t buy.
And the more I think about it, the more I want.
The phone pings with responses and for once my siblings are within a five-block radius so it shouldn’t be long. I’d put it down to kismet or some such bullshit if I actually believed.
In the meantime, I need to make some calls…
Ten minutes later, my brother, Ryder, pushes open my office door and sticks his dark head into my office, all without bothering to knock.
