Page 102 of Fallen Heir

Her breath was shallow, each exhale thinner than the one before. Her skin was cold.

I could feel her slipping.

I could feel myself unraveling with her.

I wanted to scream. Wanted to trade places.

Wanted to rip my own heart out and give it to her if it meant she'd stay.

Her lips trembled, barely able to form the words. But she still found the strength.

Because that’s who she was.

Always strong. Even now.

“I’ll always love you,” she whispered.

And just like that—she was gone.

Her body went still beneath my hands.

I watched as the life drained from her eyes.

And with her final breath, the only heir to the Sinclair fortune had fallen.

And my world went dark.

Epilogue

Jaxson

The room was quiet.

Not the kind of quiet that brought peace—but the kind that followed catastrophe.

Thick. Stale. Still.

I hadn’t moved from the leather chair in hours. Maybe longer. Time didn’t hold shape anymore. Not since… not since she stopped breathing.

The fire crackled, untouched. A glass of whiskey sat sweating in my hand, forgotten. And spread across the coffee table in front of me—headlines.

“Hundreds of Sinclair-Owned Properties Hit Auction block in sudden Liquidation.”

“Corporate Powerhouse Sinclair Holdings Begins Silent Sell-off.”

“Sinclair Real Estate Empire Begins Unraveling – No comment from Leadership.”

“Private Bidders Swarm High-Profile Portfolio Dispersal.”

“Sinclair: A Silent Fall.”

All of it. Every word. Every photo. Every carefully placed headline meant to spin chaos from the truth—I had done that.

She’d lied when she said she gave away the money. I knew it the second the words left her mouth. I heard the bluff buried beneath the bravery, the shake she tried to hide behind conviction.

She wasn’t trying to sell him the truth. She was trying to sell enough time.

And I played along.