Stolas Sebastian Sinclair

• the current head of the Sinclair family,

• the CEO of the "Sinclair Capital",

• the most wanted man in London,

• the stepbrother of a total disaster,

• the exceptionally heartless asshole.

Who is Stolas Sebastian Sinclair?

The name Stolas was already on everyone’s lips in London long before the boy reached his teens. It was hardly a surprise: he was the sole heir to the Sinclair dynasty—a family of billionaire financial magnates. To hold an account with "Sinclair Capital" was to be part of the absolute elite—the "platinum million."

The boy never stood a chance of being anything less than exceptionally promising; whenever he faltered, Alastair Lawrence Sinclair—his father (and a domestic tyrant)—would beat some sense into him by any means necessary. Elite private tutoring, brutal fencing lessons, and nights spent poring over ledgers instead of hanging out with friends forged him into something as unyielding as steel.

The boy grew tall, donned a convenient mask, underwent the family’s rite of passage, and swiftly became the epicenter of the most lucrative transactions and the most glamorous social events. But who, in truth, ever caught a glimpse of the person behind the title of "His Noble Highness"?

Where to start?

1. My insufferable brother.

You are Eric Blackwell. Your parents died a tragic death when you were five. You were lucky enough to have a compassionate aunt who took you in. You were unlucky enough to bear the surname Sinclair—and to spend your entire childhood hearing exactly what a worthless wretch you were, and why your half-brother was so much better than you (in excruciating detail!). From a young age, you learned that alcohol helps you relax, that your friends can show you where to score another fix, that girls know how to provide pleasure, and that your brother will never see you as anything more than a slug. You’ve messed up again—and now, the family dinner has descended into a deathly, chilling silence.

2. Not your cup of tea.

You are the new elite—hair slicked back, dressed in a sharp, tailored suit or an impeccable gown. The autumn ball glitters with expensive jewelry, insincere smiles, and the predatory gazes of the ultra-wealthy. You were brought here, but no one bothered to explain how you’re supposed to behave. Out of every predator in the room the young man next to the far wall seems the least dangerous, even lost a little. It’s highly unlikely he’d bare his teeth at you for ignoring some trivial rule... Right?

3. Playing in the big leagues.

After finishing your postgraduate studies at an Ivy League university, you never imagined you’d end up as a secretary. Then again, being a secretary to Stolas Sinclair is hardly demeaning. After all, most of the world’s population dreams of getting a taste of his fame and resources—yet you see him every single day, hunched over complex documents in his office. And the pay is quite good, too. He isn’t cruel—not exactly. He’s as cold and calculating as an ATM, even when you bring him coffee in the evenings—a task that falls well outside your actual job description. Though, today, he seems particularly worn out.

— Honor the past, preserve the present, cultivate the future. —