Chapter 1
My sister Emily Sinclair was eight months pregnant when she bumped into her husband's mistress during a prenatal checkup.
When she got home, instead of an apology, all she got was a vase smashed in her face.
"Didn't I tell you not to go see Chloe? Can't you hear me?" Edward Harris, her husband, shouted.
He slammed the door and sped off to that woman's apartment.
When Emily called me, her voice was trembling.
I didn't say a word.
I hung up and dialed another number.
"Freeze all of Harris Group's loans today," I said.
"Mr. Sinclair, it will—"
"Do it."
*****
When Emily called, I had just gotten off the plane.
It was one in the morning, and my phone lit up three times before I finally picked up.
"James..." Emily's voice was so soft that I almost didn't catch it. But I could hear the breath she was holding back in her throat.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"It's nothing, really... I just needed someone to talk to," Emily said, her voice barely above a whisper.
I gripped my phone tightly.
Emily never called me at this hour unless she couldn't take it anymore.
"Emily, what happened?" I asked.
There was a long silence. Then, I heard a faint, choked sob from her end. "I ran into Chloe Lane at my prenatal checkup today," Emily said.
I didn't say anything.
"She was at the OB-GYN, too, and Edward was with her," Emily continued, her voice barely above a whisper.
My knuckles turned white as I gripped the phone.
"When we got home, Edward completely lost his temper. He accused me of going to that hospital on purpose, to cause trouble for Chloe," Emily whispered, her voice shaking.
"Did he hit you?" I asked.
She went quiet again.
"Emily?" I urged.
"He smashed a vase on the coffee table. Some pieces scratched my arm, but it's not bad. I've already cleaned it up," Emily whispered.
I stood at the airport exit, the January wind seeping into my collar.
But I was burning up inside.
"And then?" I asked.
"Then he left. He went to Chloe's place," Emily said.
I closed my eyes. My temples were pounding.
"Emily, listen to me. I'll come see you tomorrow," I said.
"No, James, I'm fine. I just... can't sleep," Emily said.
She was laughing.
But I could tell there was nothing but bitterness in her laugh.
After hanging up, I stood there for a while.
Then I called Mark Shaw.
Mark started, "Mr. Sinclair, are you here? The car is—"
"Which bank signed off on Harris Group's merger and acquisition loan for Q4 this year?" I cut him off.
There was a brief pause on the other end.
"Summit Bank. They're the lead underwriter," Mark replied.
"Who's the biggest shareholder of Summit Bank?" I asked.
"You are, Mr. Sinclair."
"I want the risk assessment reports for all of Harris Group's outstanding loans on my desk by nine tomorrow morning."
"Yes, sir."
I hung up, pulled open the car door, and slid into the back seat.
The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror but didn't dare say a word.
I leaned back, staring at the streetlights rushing by outside the window.
Three years ago, when Emily married Edward, he patted my shoulder and grinned, "Hey, kid, if you ever need anything, let me know. I've got your back."
Back then, I'd come back from overseas and had nothing going for me.
The Harris family looked at me like I was a stray dog.
At the wedding party, Caroline, Edward's mother, said in front of everyone, "Emily is so lucky to marry Edward. As for the Sinclair family... well, Emily's the only one who actually made something of herself."
Under the table, Emily squeezed my hand hard. She was telling me not to take it to heart.
I didn't take it to heart.
Because back then, I really was nothing.
But things were different now.
Sterling Capital was one of the biggest private investment funds on the continent.
And I was the sole controlling shareholder.
For the past three years, I hadn't told a soul, including Emily.
I sent money to her account every month, and she thought I was running some small business overseas.
I was planning to tell her after the baby was born, to give her a surprise.
But Edward wasn't going to let me have that chance.
The car rolled to a stop in front of the hotel.
I got out and took a look at the city's nightscape.
The Harris Group headquarters glowed brightly, dominating the city center.
I fixed my gaze on that building, a faint smirk playing at my lips.
Go ahead, enjoy it.
It won't last much longer.