The Billionaire I Was Forced to Leave

Chapter 7 Prove Your Loyalty

The air in the apartment smelled of vanilla and home, a bittersweet sting against the cold fear prickling Jane’s skin. As she pushed the door open, the sight before her should have been a sanctuary. Her son, Leo, was sprawled on the plush rug, his small hands carefully balancing a wooden block atop a miniature tower.

But as Jane looked at Leo’s innocent face, she didn’t see peace. She saw the shadow of the man who had haunted her for a decade. The photo Harold had sent seemed to burn through her handbag. This warmth, this life she had built, felt fragile, like a glass house under a hail of stones.

Buzz. The vibration of her phone against her palm made her flinch. She pulled it out, the screen illuminating her pale features.

Harold: “The first draft of the Due Diligence report is due tomorrow. Make sure I don’t see anything I shouldn’t. You know the stakes, Jane.”

The threat was naked. Jane’s grip tightened on the phone. She looked at Leo one last time, a lump forming in her throat. She couldn’t stay, and she couldn’t breathe here while the noose was tightening. She had to get back to the office.

——

The Sinclair building was a monolith of glass and steel, silent and predatory in the late hours. Jane sat in her high-rise office, the only light coming from the ghostly blue glow of her dual monitors.

Her eyes ached, but she didn’t stop. She was digging deeper into the web of Harold’s corporate accounts than anyone had ever dared. Then, she saw it, a series of “consulting fees” routed through a shell company, tied back to a domestic construction firm.

She leaned back, a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead.

The debt hole she found looked like a grave. This is the rot Harold has trying to bury. He had masked a massive debt and a suspected illegal money laundering operation, through a concealed web of related-party transactions.

If Julian Sinclair signed the acquisition papers for Sinclair to absorb Harold’s company, he was buying a ticking time bomb of legal ruin that would level Sinclair Group in weeks.

——

The heavy door clicked open. Jane didn’t need to look up to know the weight of that footstep.

Julian walked into the office, his presence immediately dominating the small space. He looked every bit the powerful predator, but as his eyes fell on Jane, his expression shifted. She was deathly pale, her eyes wide and haunted.

“You’re still here,” Julian said, his voice low and resonant. He walked toward her desk, his gaze sharp. “The company looks clean on the surface, clean enough to be unsettling. What did you find?”

Jane looked up at him, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Why didn’t you tell me?” her voice trembling. “Why didn’t you tell me that this company is actually controlled by Harold? That it’s his?”

Julian’s face hardened instantly. He stepped closer, leaning his hands on her desk, pinning her with a look of icy disdain.

“Ten years ago, you were with him in ways that were… unclear,” Julian spat, the memory of that old betrayal flashing in his eyes. “And now, are you trying to protect him and his company? Why, Jane? Are you still that afraid of him?”

Jane felt the slap of his words. He didn’t know. He didn’t know about her sister, Miranda, being forced to marry Harold. He didn’t know that Jane had only gone to Harold’s residence that night because she was lured there, only for Harold to use a calculated camera angle to snap a photo that looked like an embrace. Julian had seen a betrayal, while Jane had lived a trap.

“You think I’m protecting him?” Jane’s voice cracked with fury, her eyes searching his for a single shred of the man who used to trust her. “You think I want anything other than to see him burn?”

Julian leaned in, his sandalwood and cold rain scents filling her senses, a cruel reminder of the man she had once loved. He studied her for a long, agonising moment, his gaze tracing the exhaustion written on her face.

His expression didn’t soften.

It grew colder.

“Then prove it,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous vibration.

Jane’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I am proving it. These accounts, the shell companies…”

Julian straightened, ignoring her words, and picked up the heavy leather-bound acquisition file from her desk. The gold foil of the Sinclair Group logo mocked her under the fluorescent lights.

“The timeline has changed,” he said flatly. “The deal signs tomorrow morning at eight.”

The air left Jane’s lungs as if he’d struck her. “Tomorrow? No… Julian, you can’t do that. I haven’t finished tracing the final wire transfers. If you sign this before I can document the fraud…”

“Oh, I can,” Julian interrupted, his voice like ice cutting through glass. He met her eyes, his pupils blown wide with a cocktail of bitterness and resolve. “And you’re going to finish the due diligence report tonight. Every single page.”

He paused at the door, his hand on the handle. He didn’t look back.

“Unless, of course, you’d rather run back to Harold again. I’m sure he’s waiting for his ‘report’ too.”

The door clicked shut, the sound echoing like a gavel in the silent office.

Jane sank into her chair, her nails digging into her palms until she drew blood. Her heart pounded against her ribs like a frantic, trapped bird.

Julian thought he was winning. He thought he was finally reclaiming his power and forcing her to choose a side. He thought this was a test of loyalty.

But she knew something he didn’t.

She looked at the screen, at the hidden debt hole that was deep enough to swallow an empire.

If he signed that deal tomorrow, Sinclair Group would be destroyed.