CHAPTER 4
1748 Words
MAERK
I never imagined that my own sister, Aria, would ask me to do something so outrageous—pick up the very woman who once canceled our engagement like it meant nothing. The same woman who left me to chase a man who, by all appearances, was never worthy of her in the first place.
Funny how life works.
The picture Aria sent didn’t do her justice—not even close. In person, she was even more striking. I hate to admit it, but for a second, I forgot why I was so angry with her in the first place.
Just then, the door to my office creaked open, breaking the chain of unwelcome thoughts. Jesse, my assistant, walked in, her tablet tucked under one arm. She strode across the room and placed it gently on my desk.
“The officials from the State House are still waiting on your response,” she said. “They want you to participate in the upcoming interview about the Revolution Fund allocation.”
She tapped the screen to bring up a document.
“These are the key companies that will be involved in the interview process, assuming you agree to take part,” she added, sliding the tablet toward me.
“I’ve already told them—clearly, more than once—that I won’t be participating in that interview,” I said flatly as my eyes drifted lazily to the tablet Jesse had placed in front of me.
My fingers hovered above the screen, uninterested. “Let this be the last time you bring this ma—”
The rest of the sentence froze on my tongue.
KOLL.
KOLL?
It couldn’t be Zev. He was neck-deep in international expansions. Too busy. He wouldn’t personally attend something as small-scale as this.
“Who’s representing KOLL?” I asked.
“Ms. Azula,” she said, folding her arms. “I heard she’s been appointed to oversee KOLLA—their new beauty division. She’s expected to speak for both branches during the panel.”
My interest, which had been waning all week, snapped back.
Azula.
Now that changed things.
Without a word, I picked up the tablet, my fingers moving faster now as I swiped through the list. I wasn’t even paying attention to the big corporations anymore. My attention had shifted to the smaller applicants—those looking for funding from the Revolution Fund.
I kept scrolling until I reached entry number 1,378.
And then I saw it.
CAI HOMES.
My eyes locked on the name. I didn’t even need to read the short description. I knew exactly what it was.
An interior design company.
Founded and owned by none other than Caius Sinclaire.
Azula’s ex-husband.
A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips, unbidden. The kind that comes when the universe hands you a story far more compelling than anything you expected.
Now this was worth showing up for.
Yes, I did my homework.
The night I discovered that the woman I was supposed to marry had vanished without a word—only to turn up days later as someone else’s wife—I couldn’t rest. I needed to know who the man was. What kind of person had she chosen over me? What he had that I didn’t.
So I dug.
And what did I find? Disappointing, to say the least.
Caius Sinclaire.
A man with nothing remarkable beyond a pretty face and enough charm to blind a naive woman. A struggling businessman who’d hopped from one venture to the next, never quite sticking the landing. When he launched CAI HOMES, I expected him to fail—and almost hoped he wouldn’t, just to keep things interesting. For a moment, it seemed like he’d finally found his stride. But predictably, it all came crashing down.
And I watched it happen. Silently. Patiently. Like a man observing a slow-burning fuse.
I’d been keeping tabs on him ever since.
So when I saw his company’s name on the applicant list for the Revolution Fund, it felt like fate had just handed me a loaded deck.
I leaned back in my chair, tapping a finger against my jaw. “Who’s interviewing CAI HOMES?” I asked Jesse, eyes still fixed on the dimming screen as I pressed the power button and slid the iPad across the desk toward her.
She picked it up, scrolling briefly before answering, “I’m not sure, sir. I believe the names of the applicants are randomly assigned to the interviewers—drawn from a shuffle box. Completely luck of the draw.”
A low hum escaped me as I tilted my head slightly. When was the last time I felt this entertained—this engaged in something beyond numbers, deals, and empty meetings?
I couldn’t even remember.
My lips curved as I leaned forward, lowering my voice to a raspy order. “KOLL.”
Jesse blinked, confused. “Sir?”
“Make sure KOLL is assigned to interview CAI HOMES.” There was steel in my voice now. “I want Azula sitting across from him, asking him the hard questions. Watching him squirm.”
“But… I just said, sir—it’s a randomized selection. I don’t think we have any control over—”
“I don’t care what you said,” I cut her off coldly. “Have KOLL interview CAI HOMES. Make it happen.”
Jesse’s eyes flicked up to mine, clearly torn between reason and obedience. But she knew better than to push me when I’d made up my mind. With a sharp nod, she gave in. “Yes, boss. I’ll work on it,” she murmured, dipping her head slightly in a quick bow of acknowledgment before making her exit.
The door clicked shut behind her, and silence settled over the room.
For a brief moment, I closed my eyes and leaned back into the leather chair, letting the tension ease out of my shoulders. That moment didn’t last long.
My phone vibrated against the glass surface of the desk, flashing a familiar name.
Zev.
With a sigh, I picked it up and swiped to answer. “What do you want, Zev?” I muttered.
His laughter crackled through the speaker. “You sound absolutely thrilled to hear from me.”
“I’m not,” I said flatly.
“Too bad.” He chuckled again, clearly enjoying himself. “Just thought I’d let you know my father had a bottle of some obscenely expensive wine sent to your office today. The kind that probably costs more than some small companies’ annual budgets.”
I groaned quietly, rubbing my temple. “You know I hate gifts.”
“And surprises,” Zev added. “Yes, I’m aware. But he doesn’t. And apparently, this one comes with strings.”
Of course, it does. It always does.
“Why is your father sending me wine?”
Zev’s tone softened slightly. “It’s my parents’ wedding anniversary tomorrow. There’s a family dinner. He wants you there.”
I exhaled slowly. “I don’t do family dinners.”
“You do ours,” he replied smoothly. “Because you’re family.”
Dinner with the entire Ashwood family.
I couldn’t help but let a dry chuckle slip. “Why exactly does he want me there?”
“I think it has something to do with KOLLA.” He paused, perhaps trying to gauge my reaction. “He wants Azula to take over, and with you being the second-highest shareholder, I guess he wants to hear your opinion on it.”
I let out a slow breath, my eyes narrowing slightly. “You think?” I drawled, not hiding my skepticism. “That doesn’t sound too sure.”
Zev exhaled into the receiver, the sound of him shifting around clear in the background. “Don’t blame me, man. It’s like trying to read a cryptic message half the time. My father’s head? No one can figure it out, not even me.” He let out a soft sigh. “I get it if you can’t make it, though. Honestly, I wouldn’t blame you.”
I leaned back in my chair, letting the silence hang for a moment as I considered his words. Dinner with Azula, huh?
“I’ll be there.” I haven’t really had the chance to have a sit-down with her or hear her talk for a long time.
With that, I ended the call, the quiet beep of the disconnect ringing in my ears.
Reaching for the landline, I dialed my secretary’s number, my fingers tapping the receiver lightly as I waited for her to pick up.
“When is the meeting with the Senator tomorrow?”
“Eight p.m., sir,” Jesse replied crisply through the speaker.
“Cancel it.”
There was a slight pause—then a faint gasp, the kind that suggested she was mentally calculating just how disastrous canceling on Senator Wilfred could be.
“I could try to move it up to two in the afternoon?” she offered. “You’re free around then, and it would keep things… diplomatic.”
I tapped my fingers slowly against the armrest. “If that works for him, fine. If not, reschedule it entirely—any other day that fits into his calendar. Just not tomorrow evening.”
“Understood, sir. I’ll handle it,” she said quietly, the line clicking off a moment later.
I leaned back into my chair, staring up at the ceiling as a slow smile curved at the edges of my mouth.
Azula. Sitting across the table from her ex-husband. Judging him. Grading his pitch. Held the fate of his business in her perfectly manicured hands.
It would be like watching a well-scripted play unfold in real-time—with me sitting front row.
When I first learned about her divorce, I didn’t care much. It didn’t concern me. She made her choice when she left, and I had no interest in digging through the aftermath of a marriage I didn’t believe in, to begin with.
But now?
Now I was curious.
What exactly happened between Azula and Caius Sinclaire? What shattered so badly that it led to such a clean break?
I reached for my phone and typed out a short, clear message to Henry.
FIND OUT EVERYTHING YOU CAN ABOUT CAIUS SINCLAIRE.
I hit send and stared at the screen for a beat longer before placing the phone back down.
All I have to do is wait.
- Writer
