005
1294 Words
CHAPTER 5
Mr Sinclair.
DAMON SINCLAIR
He sat behind his massive desk, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his portrait hanging on the office wall, his expression barely unreadable. A file lay open in front of him, but his sharp eyes were not focused on the paper. They were fixed on the man sitting across from him.
He looked agitated, sat still and looked straight into the man's eyes.
“And I believe if we just extend the timeline a little, we can still make the numbers work,” John said, showing him the work on his tab.
Damon stared at him with disbelief in his eyes. “You’re wasting my time.” His voice cut through the room like a blade.
John froze instantly. “I…..Mr. Sinclair, I was only trying to explain”
“I don’t pay you to explain failure,” Damon said coldly, leaning back in his chair. “I pay you to prevent it.”
The man swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the file in his hands. “It wasn’t entirely my fault sir. The market changed and…”
“And you failed to adapt,” Damon interrupted.
A heavy silence followed, Damon leaned forward slowly, placing both hands on the desk, his gaze locking onto the man with quiet intensity. “Do you know what I hate the most?” he asked.
John hesitated. “Sir…?”
“Excuses.”
John looked down, bowing his head as if he was almost on his knees.
“I built everything I have,” Damon continued, his voice calm but filled with controlled anger, “by making decisions. No excuses.”
John opened his mouth again, despite knowing it was a wrong move. “Sir, if you could just give me another chance, I can fix this.”
Damon slammed his hand against the desk. “Get out.”The sound echoed sharply through the office.
John froze right on the spot. “Mr. Sinclair, please”
“I said get out!” Damon’s voice rose with disgust written all over his face.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop instantly. John scrambled to his feet, nearly dropping his file in the process. “Y’yes, sir… I’m sorry, sir…”
Damon didn’t respond; he simply watched him leave. The door closed behind him with a soft click, and silence returned to the room.
A few seconds later, he heard a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” Damon said.
The door opened slowly, and Miss Jennie stepped in, holding a cup of coffee with both hands. She moved cautiously, so her footsteps might not trigger him, she had learned the hard way.
“Your coffee, sir,” she said politely, placing it gently on his desk.
Damon didn’t look at her immediately. He stared at the file in front of him, his jaw still slightly tense.
Jennie noticed immediately. Everyone noticed when Damon Sinclair lost his temper.
It was not something people forgot easily. She stepped back slightly, keeping a safe distance.
After some while, Damon reached for the coffee, taking a slow sip.
Jennie exhaled quietly. “Sir,” she began carefully, holding her tablet, “your next meeting is in thirty minutes with the board of directors. After that, you have a conference call scheduled with the investors from London, and later this evening, you are expected at…”
“Cancel the evening event.” he cut her short.
Jennie paused. “Sir?”
“I’m not attending.”
“Yes, sir,” she answered quickly, taking notes.
“And move the board meeting forward by ten minutes. I don’t like delays.”
“Yes, sir.” she nodded effectively. She hesitated for a second, as if debating whether to say something else but thought better of it.
Damon finally looked up at her. That alone made her stiffen slightly. “Is there something else?” he asked.
“No, sir,” she replied immediately.
“Then go.”
“Yes, sir.” Jennie didn’t wait any longer. She turned and walked out of the office, closing the door quietly behind her only when she was completely out of sight did she allow herself to breathe properly again.
Inside the office, Damon sat alone. He took another sip of his coffee, and he turned his chair, his gaze now drifting toward the city outside.
From up here, everything obeyed a certain order.
The structures of the system and Damon Sinclair was the kind of man who controlled systems. Every mistake cost something, even hesitation meant loss. He learned early that if he wanted anything, he had to fight for it. By the time he entered the business world, Damon was already different. He didn’t trust anyone easily or rely on anyone.
“Sir” Jennie called from behind. “It's time for the meeting.”
The boardroom fell silent the moment he stood up. No one dared to speak, not after the decision he had just made. Damon didn’t look back as he adjusted the cuff of his tailored suit. The deal was done. And just like that, three men who had once called themselves his equals were now nothing more than collateral damage. They all looked at each other afraid to speak or stop him.
“Damon, you can’t just walk away from this,” Luke finally said, voice tight with restrained anger.
He paused at the door, fingers resting lightly on the polished wood. “I already did.”
Behind him, chairs scraped against the floor. “We built this together,” Adam snapped. “You don’t get to erase us overnight.”
That was enough to make Damon glance over his shoulder. His eyes were sharp and calculating. “You built nothing,” he said evenly. “You just followed.”
For years, he had let them believe they were essential. Let them sit at the same table, share in decisions, sign documents that bore all their names. But power had never been shared, it had only been lent. And now, he was taking it back.
“You’re making a mistake,” Luke warned with his voice almost like a whisper.
Damon almost smiled. “No,” he replied. “I’m correcting one.”
Silence swallowed the room. He opened the door and stepped out, leaving them behind with nothing but the echo of his footsteps and the realization that everything they had depended on was gone.
~~
The hallway outside was quiet, lined with glass walls that reflected his image from every angle.
His PA Lara trailed behind him matching his steps because he seems to walk faster. She had already anticipated the outcome.
“It’s done?” she asked softly.
“It is.”
“And the fallout?”
Damon’s gaze remained forward. “Irrelevant.”
Lara nodded once, no surprise there. To him, consequences were just obstacles waiting to be managed or eliminated.
“Your car is ready,” she added.
Of course it has to be. Everything in his world operated with precision. Timing, execution, results. There was no room for error, and certainly no room for sentiment. As they reached the elevator, Lara hesitated briefly, before speaking again. “There’s been some concern among the senior staff.”
Damon pressed the button, watching the numbers descend. “About?”
“The abrupt nature of the separation. Some are worried it might affect stability.”
The elevator doors slid open. He stepped inside, then turned to face her, one hand slipping into his pocket. “Stability,” he repeated, as if testing the word. Then his lips curved slightly. “It is maintained by strength, not comfort,” he added.
Lara lowered her gaze. “Understood.”
- Writer
