CHAPTER 14: CHAPTER 14: SHE WILL NEVER BE YOUR SISTER

The air instantly froze.

Three pairs of eyes met in the air.

A subtle awkwardness spread in the atmosphere.

Holly Crowe noticed a slight frown crossing Blake Sinclair’s brow.

Blake Sinclair, a regular in Beldon’s financial magazine news, heir to the Sinclair Group, and the dream partner of countless heiresses.

It was rumored that a business partner once spent seven figures just to fail at getting his WeChat contact. In Beldon’s business circles, who knows how many people are clamoring for his contact information.

Holly Crowe diplomatically broke the silence, saying, "Actually, exchanging phone numbers is fine too..."

She was ready to switch screens, but a phone was already handed to her, displaying the WeChat scan page.

"Huh?" Holly Crowe didn’t react immediately.

"Scan it," Blake Sinclair said succinctly.

Holly Crowe was momentarily speechless, but quickly caught on.

Her five-year professional habit made her reflexively say, "President Sinclair, let me scan you..."

"No need," Blake Sinclair’s voice was deep as he pushed the phone half an inch forward.

Not daring to keep him waiting, Holly Crowe opened her WeChat QR code and held it out.

The "ding" sound was exceptionally clear in the store.

Sinclair burst into smiles, her cheeks still streaked with tears, but she was already clapping excitedly.

After settling the bill, as they were leaving, she suddenly hugged Holly Crowe’s neck, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, "Goodbye, Teacher Crowe."

Before Holly Crowe could react, Blake Sinclair’s voice turned a few degrees colder: "Shirley, get in the car."

She looked up to see the man’s slightly furrowed brows, his jawline tense.

Holly Crowe understood; the Sinclair Family probably had rules against Shirley getting too close to outsiders.

After they left, Holly Crowe let out a sigh of relief. She glanced down at the newly added black profile picture in her WeChat list.

The plain black background had a hand-drawn little yarrow in the bottom right corner, seemingly done by a child, with a nickname of a capital ’Y’.

This was unexpected for Holly Crowe, as in her knowledge, few people used the last character of their name as a nickname.

She clicked further into Blake Sinclair’s timeline, only to find it blank, as mysteriously enigmatic as its owner.

The black Maybach drove slowly on the road.

In the back seat, Shirley, undeterred, searched around the seat again, but still found no trace of the watch. "Strange, how could it have disappeared..."

She sighed, mumbling softly.

The light turned red, and the car stopped.

Blake Sinclair glanced at her through the rearview mirror but said nothing.

His right hand rested on the steering wheel, while his left hand unconsciously rubbed the pocket of his suit.

"Uncle," Shirley suddenly poked her little head through the gap between the front seats, her voice sweet and childish, "when I get my new watch, you have to give Crowe’s WeChat to me."

"Crowe?" Blake Sinclair’s eyes dimmed slightly, and his voice sounded even deeper.

"I like her!" Young Sinclair declared naively. "I want her to be my sister!"

As she finished speaking, she began playing with a ceramic rabbit.

The silence in the car was deafening.

Blake Sinclair’s fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel as he stared ahead, the rotating ads on the tall buildings beside him casting fleeting flashes of light across his sharply defined profile.

After a while, a voice emerged from the front seat.

Low and surging as if squeezed from the depths of his throat, "She will not be your sister."

Noralis Villa.

Sinclair Manor.

The fabulous Laurel Sinclair was reclining on the sofa with a face mask on, her phone playing a video of a handsome guy showing off his muscles.

Sinclair, with a small backpack, hopped over to her side. "Mom, I’m back!"

She began to take off her backpack and sat on the sofa, swinging her legs as she began recounting the day’s events.

"Today at kindergarten... Uncle stayed in the car for a long time before taking me out... Uncle is really good at making ceramics... I like Crowe..."

Her little mouth chattered endlessly.

When she mentioned her missing watch, she lowered her head in disappointment, but quickly became excited again, "But Uncle added Teacher Crowe on WeChat!"

Laurel Sinclair lazily waved her hand, clearly uninterested in these topics, "Tomorrow, Mommy will go shopping and buy you a new one."

"Hmm!"

Sinclair nodded, continuing to rummage through her backpack, attempting to pull out the ceramic rabbit, but suddenly felt a bump at the bottom of the second compartment.

"Huh?"

"Ah! Wow!"

The sudden outburst almost made Laurel Sinclair drop her phone.

With the watch in hand, she waved it several times in front of her, exclaiming with joy, "Mom! I found the watch!"

But very soon, her face turned puzzled, "But it wasn’t there just now..."

Just then, Blake Sinclair walked by the sofa, and upon hearing her words, his steps paused imperceptibly.

"Uncle!" Little Sinclair rushed over, grabbing his hand, "There is magic! My watch reappeared!"

Blake Sinclair looked down at his niece’s innocent eyes and let out a faint "Mm".

"Then quickly give me Crowe’s WeChat now!" Sinclair eagerly shook his hand.

Blake Sinclair withdrew his hand, his thin lips pressed into a straight line, and under his niece’s expectant gaze, he bluntly remarked, "Children should play less with electronics," before turning to go upstairs.

Young Sinclair: "...."

She tilted her head in confusion, unsure why her uncle seemed... angry?

Yet it didn’t quite feel like real anger.

She glanced at the watch, then looked towards the stairs.

Her little head pondered for a long time but couldn’t figure it out. Turning around, she saw her mom standing with arms crossed, watching the stairs with an amused smile.

This only added to her confusion.

The adults’ world is truly complex.

Study on the second floor.

Blake Sinclair stood by the window, his phone screen lit up, with the simple words Holly Crowe at the top of an empty chatbox.

His long fingers hovered at the bottom of the screen, hesitating for a long time, before he gently placed the phone face down on the table.

The reflection in the glass showed the corners of his mouth slightly upturned.

Outside the window, the last ray of the sunset sank into the horizon, casting his shadow long and longer.