CHAPTER FIVE
684 Words
ARCHER.
I was a man not easily surprised.
I’d built my empire from nothing on calculated risks, keen instinct, and an unwavering ability to stay three steps ahead of the game. But standing in front of Ella Sinclair in the elegant atmosphere of L'Atelier, my calculating, cold mind faltered for the first time in years.
Ella.
The woman I’d slept with, whose shape had curled so perfectly against mine, who’d made me lose my mind from the raw pleasure—was her.
Victor Sinclair's daughter.
My jaw clenched as I sat opposite them, my actions smooth and controlled despite the storm brewing beneath my skin. What were the odds? Had fate decided to play a cruel joke on me? Well, I wasn’t a believer of fate, but facts.
Or was there more to this?
As we ordered, Victor, the greedy businessman that he was, was already attempting to make small talk with me, trying too hard to establish some kind of rapport that was not and would never be there. I knew better. Victor Sinclair was a greedy, ruthless bastard. If he was suddenly open to making connections through marriage, there was something…diabolical to be gained for him.
I leaned back in my chair, my fingers tapping idly on the table, my eyes flicking to Ella.
She hadn't spoken a word since we’d been introduced. Her shoulders were tense, and she couldn't keep her fingers still in her lap, chewing nervously on her lip.
A guilty conscience, perhaps?
She glanced up and met mu eye for a brief second before looking hastily away.
My eyes narrowed. A guilty conscience, indeed.
I couldn't help but suspect that this was all staged. That she had been placed in my path deliberately. That our night together had not been random after all.
Victor Sinclair was disgusting enough to use his own daughter as a pawn, and if Ella was involved in whatever game her father had planned, then she was not nearly as innocent.
My lips curled into a smirk, though there was no warmth in it.
If she had been sent to manipulate me, she had played her part well—too well.
Victor leaned forward, his expression sharp. “Now, Mr. Wolfe, let’s discuss the details of the deal. I’m sure you have some conditions you’d like to negotiate.”
I tilted his head, studying the older man for a long moment before leisurely leaning back in my chair. I picked up his glass of whiskey, swirling the amber liquid before taking a slow sip.
Then, with deliberate calm, I said, “I’ll marry her regardless.”
Victor blinked, caught off guard.
I set my glass down. “The business side of things can be discussed later.”
There was a moment of silence before Victor nodded, clearly caught off guard but quick to recover. "Well… good. That's settled, then."
A glint of triumph lit up his eyes, and that in itself had my hands itching to wipe that smug smile off his face.
I could already see the wheels turning in Victor's head. The older man probably thought he had won, that he had managed to get the perfect deal for himself.
He had no idea just how wrong he was.
Victor effortlessly switched topics, talking about upcoming projects and business deals, but I wasn't listening.
My focus was on Ella.
She still hadn't spoken.
She sat stiffly, her fists clenched into her lap, her gaze fixed on the immaculate white tablecloth.
Something about her silence annoyed me.
Was she involved in this? Was she another one of her father's pawns? Was she playing whatever game her father was playing? Or was she as surprised as I had been?
A flame of anger kindled in my chest.
I had let myself be tricked. I would not be making the same error twice.
If Ella was party to this, then she would pay for it as well.
I would marry her.
And by that marriage, he would destroy everything that Victor Sinclair held dear.
The Sinclair family had no idea what lay ahead for them.
- Writer
