Chapter 302 - 0302: Jaxx Is Sinclair

Chapter 302: Chapter 0302: Jaxx Is Sinclair

Elena’s Point of View

The cold marble floor of my office was the only thing keeping me grounded as my world performed a slow, sickening tilt. I sat there, huddled against the heavy oak door, my expensive silk blazer bunched up around my elbows as I sobbed into my sleeve. The fabric was already soaked, a damp, pathetic testament to my shattered composure.

My throat burned with the kind of raw, jagged ache that only comes from screaming into your own palms, from trying to muffle the sound of your own breaking. I hadn’t cried like this in years, not since the divorce, and the force of it frightened me, like something long buried had finally clawed its way to the surface.

With trembling fingers, I reached for my phone. The screen blurred through a thick veil of salt and mascara, the icons swimming like fish in murky water. I didn’t even have to look for the contact; muscle memory guided my thumb. I dialed Lexy. She picked up on the very first ring, her voice bright and annoyingly cheerful, full of the kind of life I felt had just been violently sucked out of me.

"Hello, babe! God, finally! How was the big romantic getaway with Jaxx?" Lexy’s voice was teasing, dripping with that suggestive tone she always used when she thought I was finally getting some. "Did you enjoy yourself? You know exactly what I mean... did the mysterious man live up to the hype? I need details, woman. All the dirty, delicious details."

She laughed, a bubbly, carefree sound that felt like a cheese grater against my exposed nerves. I couldn’t help it; the sound of his name triggered a fresh wave of agony that crashed over me. I let out a loud, broken sob that caught in my chest, sounding more like a wounded animal than a CEO. More like prey than predator.

For a moment, I almost hated myself for how small I felt, how far removed from the woman who ran board meetings and crushed negotiations without blinking.

The laughter on the other end died instantly, cut off as if someone had severed a wire. A sharp, heavy silence replaced it. "Elena? Elena, what’s happening? Why are you crying? Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?"

"I... I’m so stupid, Lex," I managed to choke out, the words emerging in a pathetic wheeze. Each syllable tasted like ash. "I am so incredibly, monumentally, catastrophically stupid."

"Elena, talk to me. Where are you right now? Did he do something? Did Jaxx hurt you?" Her voice had shifted from panic to that protective, lethal tone she reserved for when someone messed with her inner circle. I could practically hear her grabbing her car keys, already halfway out the door in her mind.

"I’m in my office," I whispered, resting my forehead against my knees, curling into myself like a child seeking shelter. "The door is locked. I don’t want to see anyone. I don’t ever want to come out. I just want to disappear."

"Stay right there. Do not move an inch. I’m on my way, babe. Do not do anything stupid, okay? Just breathe. In and out. I’m coming." The line went dead, leaving me alone with the deafening silence and my spiraling thoughts.

I curled further into myself, making my body as small as possible, as if I could fold myself out of existence. The shadows of the office elongated as the sun began to dip below the skyline, painting the walls in shades of amber and rust. My mind was a vicious loop of Jaxx’s face: the way he looked in high school in that boxing ring, all raw determination and bruised knuckles, and the way he looked an hour ago when he told my ex-father-in-law to go to hell.

The memory of his protective stance, the fire in his eyes as he defended me, now felt like a cruel joke, a performance I had been foolish enough to applaud.

He must have been laughing the whole time, savoring the irony. Every time I mentioned my divorce, every time I shuddered at the mention of the Sinclair name, he was sitting there, holding his tongue, watching me like a scientist watches a rat in a maze. Observing. Calculating. Enjoying the show. The thought made my stomach twist with a fresh wave of nausea.

"I hate you, Jaxx," I hissed into the empty room, my nails digging into my palms until I felt the sting of broken skin. The pain was welcome, something real to focus on, something that made sense when nothing else did. "I hate you so much for making me feel safe again. For making me believe I could trust someone. For making me hope."

It felt like hours, but it was probably only twenty minutes before I heard the familiar, frantic clicking of heels in the hallway. The sound grew louder, more insistent, each click a small promise that I wasn’t entirely alone in the wreckage. There was a sharp knock, and then the metallic scrape of a key; she’d clearly bullied my assistant into surrendering the spare.

Lexy burst in, her eyes scanning the room with military precision until they landed on the pathetic heap I had become on the floor.

"Oh no, babe... no, no, no." She dropped her designer purse on the floor without a second thought and rushed to me, her heels skidding on the marble as she pulled me into her arms. Her perfume, something floral and expensive, wrapped around me like a familiar blanket. "What happened? You’re shaking. You’re ice cold."

She held me tight, not caring that my mascara was ruining her pristine white blouse, leaving dark streaks across the expensive fabric. She wiped my cheeks with her thumbs, her own eyes glistening with sympathy and barely contained fury. I could see her mind working, already planning revenge on whoever had done this to me, already drafting a list of ways to make someone suffer.

I couldn’t even find words; I just buried my face in her shoulder and sobbed harder, my body wracked with tremors. My breath was catching in rhythmic, painful gasps that made my ribs ache. Lexy didn’t push for explanations. She just let me cry until the well ran dry, until I felt that hollow, shaky emptiness that comes after a total emotional collapse, when there’s nothing left inside but echoes. She simply held on, a steady anchor while I drifted through the storm.

Finally, she gripped my shoulders and nudged me upward, her touch gentle but firm. "Okay. Up. We are not doing the floor thing anymore. It’s bad for the posture and worse for the ego. Come on, babe. I’ve got you."

She dragged me to my feet, her strength surprising me as it always did; Lexy might look like a delicate socialite, but she had the determination of a bulldozer. She guided me over to the velvet couch in the corner, the one I’d picked out because it reminded me of my grandmother’s sitting room, the one place I’d always associated with safety. I sank into the cushions, feeling like a puppet with its strings cut, boneless and defeated.

She went over to the water dispenser, filled a cup, and marched back, handing it to me with an expression that brooked no argument. Her jaw was set, her eyes fierce with concern.

"Drink. All of it. Now."

I took the cup with shaking hands and downed the water in one frantic gulp, some of it spilling down my chin. The coldness helped, a little, shocking my system back to something resembling awareness, though my thoughts still felt like static.

Lexy perched on the edge of the coffee table, facing me with her hands folded tightly in her lap. "Okay. Start from the beginning. Is it Jaxx? What did that jerk do? Did he cheat? Did he lie?" Her voice rose with each question. "Because I swear, I will find out where he parks that fancy car of his and..."

"Lexy," I interrupted, my voice sounding hollow and distant, as if it belonged to someone else. "Jaxx is a Sinclair."

Lexy froze mid-gesture. Her eyes went wide, then narrow, then wide again as she processed my words. The color drained from her face, and for a moment she looked as though I’d slapped her.

"I’m sorry, I think I have wax in my ears," she said slowly, leaning forward. "You said what?"

"He’s Graham’s brother. His younger, half-brother."

"What? No. That’s..." Lexy shook her head vigorously, her dark hair swinging. "Elena, that’s impossible. I know the Sinclair family tree. I grew up around those socialites, remember? There’s Graham, and that’s it. Sebastian was always so proud of his ’only heir.’ He never mentioned another son. Not once."

I drew a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the truth pressing down on my chest like a physical thing. "I found out today, Lex. His father came storming in here like he owned the place. Sebastian was screaming about me ruining his company, acting like he still owned the air I breathe."

My hands trembled as I continued. "He actually hit me. He struck me right across the face in front of my own staff." Lexy’s mouth fell open in shock. I touched my cheek gingerly, the heat still lingering there like a brand, a reminder that some wounds don’t need to break skin to leave a mark. "Matilda was about to join in; you know how she loves to pile on, but Jaxx... Jaxx stepped in. He saved me. Protected me from them both." The memory of his strong presence flooded back, making my chest ache with a confusing tangle of gratitude and betrayal.

"But then Sebastian called himself Jaxx’s father. And Jaxx didn’t deny it. He looked him right in the eye and claimed me as his woman in front of the man who used to be my father-in-law." I felt the tears starting again, hot and stinging, blurring my vision.

My throat tightened painfully. "He has been playing me for a fool, Lex. Again. He knew exactly who I was from the very beginning. He knew about Graham. He knew about the divorce, about everything I went through. He let me fall for him again, and I fell for it like an idiot."

I wiped at my eyes angrily. "I fell for those stupid dark eyes and that protective act. I’m so stupid! How could I let the same man break me twice in ten years? What’s wrong with me?"

"Hey, look at me," Lexy commanded, grabbing my hands and squeezing them hard enough to ground me. Her eyes blazed with fierce loyalty. "You are not stupid, Elena. Don’t you dare say that again. You are a victim of a very talented liar. What happened when we were kids, that was on him, not you. You were young, you were naive, and you were looking for an escape from a terrible home situation. He’s the one who’s wrong here. He’s the one who walked into your life under false pretenses. He should have told you the second things got serious."

She released my hands and stood up abruptly, pacing the small space between the couch and my desk. Her heels clicked a furious rhythm against the hardwood floor, each step punctuating her anger. "He stood there and watched you struggle? He watched you try to rebuild your life from nothing while he was related to the very people who tore it down?" She spun to face me, her expression incredulous. "That is some next-level sociopathic behavior. Who does that to someone they claim to care about?"

I leaned back against the couch cushions, closing my eyes and letting exhaustion wash over me, a bone-deep weariness that no amount of sleep could fix. "I feel gross, Lex. I feel like I’ve been tainted by that family all over again." My voice cracked. "I spent three years trying to wash the Sinclair name off me, scrubbing myself clean of their poison, and now this? Now I find out I’ve been sleeping with another one?"

Lexy stopped pacing abruptly and turned to me. A sudden, sharp look of confusion crossed her face, replacing the anger. She tilted her head, her brow furrowing deeply as she thought back to our high school days, to the gym, and the boy everyone feared. I could see her mind working, connecting dots that didn’t quite align, the way she used to when solving equations that refused to balance.

"Wait a second," Lexy whispered, her voice trailing off as she tried to make the pieces fit. She pressed her fingers to her temples, as though she could massage the memory into clarity. "If he’s a Sinclair... if Sebastian is really his father... then how come nobody knew they were brothers in school?"