Chapter 7
Amelia’s heels clicked sharply against the polished marble floor of the Sinclair Industries lobby, a rhythmic, angry percussion that announced her arrival. Her usually composed features were set in a mask of rigid fury, her expensive silk blouse feeling suddenly suffocating. She gripped the strap of her handbag so tightly her knuckles were white.
“I need to see Austin Sinclair. Now,” she demanded of the unnervingly serene receptionist, her voice low and tight.
“Do you have an appointment, Ms.…?”
“Amelia Vance. No, I don’t. Tell him it’s about the Vance-Sinclair business deal and that I’m not leaving until I speak to him.”
A moment later, she was ushered into the sterile, overwhelmingly large corner office. Austin Sinclair stood by the panoramic window, the city sprawlin
