A Family Affair

Camilla’s knuckles turned a stark white as she gripped the thick fabric of the bedsheets, pulling them tightly against her collarbone. Her mind spun, struggling to process the imposing presence of Maximus Sinclair sitting casually in the armchair of her hotel suite. The harsh morning sunlight did nothing to soften the intimidating angles of his face, and his dark suit stood out sharply against the pale decor of the room.

"I have yet to make up my mind," she managed to say, her voice raspy from a long night spent sobbing on the floor. She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to push through the pounding headache throbbing at her temples. Did he track her down and come into her room just because of his proposition?

Before she could demand further answers, the tempting aroma of freshly baked croissants drifted across the room. Her eyes flicked toward a silver room service cart positioned near the window, laden with a generous spread of warm pastries, fresh fruit, and steaming coffee. Despite her profound emotional exhaustion, her empty stomach gave a loud, involuntary rumble. She stole a glance at the cart, attempting to feign indifference to both the food and the audible protest of her hungry body. It was a futile effort. The gnawing hunger was sharp, a grounding sensation amidst the chaotic ruins of her personal life.

Maximus watched her with a detached gaze, his expression unreadable. He offered no empty words of sympathy for the pathetic state he had found her in.

"Is there a need for such pretense?" his inquiry cut through the tense air, dry and devoid of warmth. "Eat your fill. I only came to make sure that you did not go out and commit a crime in a fit of rage. My plans would fail if you ended up in prison."

Blunt. Camilla acknowledged the trait inwardly. Her attention reluctantly shifted from the tantalizing croissants back to the dangerous man seated across from her. Still clutching the sheet with one hand to preserve her modesty, she reached out with her free hand, grabbed a small fork, and mechanically speared a piece of food from the tray he pushed closer to the bed. She chewed without tasting a single bite, forcing herself to focus on his words.

"The VS Group will hold its annual shareholder’s meeting soon," Maximus began, his dark eyes fixed on her. "In this meeting, your stepfather intends to orchestrate a massive scandal. He will blame you for a series of professional mishaps. Not directly, of course. He is too smart to get his own hands dirty."

Camilla choked slightly, coughing as she forced the food down her throat. "What?" The cup of coffee she had just reached for trembled in her grasp, the dark liquid threatening to spill over the rim. His words demanded her absolute attention, slicing right through the heavy fog of her hangover. VS Design was a massive subsidiary of the VS Group. Currently, she operated as its Head Designer and acting CEO.

Before she could formulate a coherent defense, Maximus slid a detailed document across the small table between them. "A plagiarism scandal ready to explode," he interrupted, delivering the massive bombshell with a cool matter-of-factness.

She opened the folder without asking further questions. Inside were copies of her own sketches, but they had been deliberately altered, juxtaposed with forged documentation and fake email threads. "I made these designs," Camilla's voice wavered, a mix of panic and indignation rising in her chest. "I spent countless nights drawing them, choosing the materials carefully for the upcoming collection. How could anyone claim this is plagiarism?"

Maximus did not answer right away. He studied her appearance, his steady gaze containing a calculated cruelty that made her skin prickle.

"He plans to feed the media a very specific narrative," Maximus explained, his voice cutting through her rising panic like a sharp knife. "A pampered, privileged heiress who grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth, pitted against a struggling, self-made woman. He will frame you as a parasite stealing her hard work. Look at the framing, Camilla. In that scenario, who do you think the public and the media will believe?"

The question paralyzed her. Camilla’s mind raced, connecting the scattered, ugly truths she had uncovered over the past twenty-four hours. Her twenty-sixth birthday was rapidly approaching. Turning twenty-six meant she would finally inherit her late grandfather’s massive fortune. Shares, stocks, bonds, properties, and at least three hundred million dollars would belong to her, giving her absolute control of the company.

However, to claim this inheritance, specific, confidential conditions outlined in the Stratton family trust had to be met. She had deliberately kept these conditions a secret from Donovan. She had never intended to tell him anything about the matter.

A sickening realization settled deep in her gut, turning her blood to ice. Donovan knew. He had known about the secret conditions all along. That was the only logical reason he remained by her side, playing the devoted fiancé for years, while secretly sleeping with Vanessa behind her back.

And now Roland. The man who had stepped in when she was two years old. The man who had raised her and whom she trusted as a father. He was actively plotting to ruin her name. He wanted to manipulate the board of directors into believing she was a plagiarizing fraud, stripping her of her inheritance before she could ever claim it.

"The shares," she mumbled, her chest tightening as the air seemed to thin out in the room. There could only be one reason why her stepfather would create a scandal of this magnitude. He wanted to taint her name and show the board that the heiress of VS Group was a liability.

"Smart," Maximus smirked, recognizing that she had caught on.

Camilla shook her head, her lips trembling as she tried to reject the nightmare unfolding before her. "My father... Roland would never do something like this. He raised me." She desperately stammered, wanting to defend him. She had grown up with Roland. When her biological father died before she was born, Roland stepped in. He even changed his surname to Stratton when he married her mother.

Maximus leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on his knees, ruthlessly crushing her fragile denial. "Do you truly believe that? Especially after witnessing your sister's betrayal with your own eyes?" he asked.

The words felt like a physical blow to her ribs. She swallowed hard in response. What happened last night was enough of a wake-up call. She had been foolish, blind to the blatant signs of Donovan and Vanessa’s affair. If Vanessa could betray her so easily, why not Roland?

"Keep looking," Maximus instructed, nodding toward the remaining documents in the folder.

Camilla flipped past the fabricated design files, her stomach churning. She pulled out a stack of shocking photographs hidden at the back. Her eyes scanned the glossy images, her breath hitching in her throat.

"This woman..." she whispered, her trembling finger tracing the face of an older, elegant lady standing next to Roland.

"Roland Vance's ex-wife, and Vanessa Stratton's biological mother, Roxanne Delgado," Maximus provided without missing a beat.

Camilla stared in absolute horror. According to the family history she had been fed her entire life, Roxanne was supposed to have abandoned Vanessa at birth, leaving Roland as a heartbroken single father. That tragic backstory had defined their family dynamic. Was it all a lie? Over the years, Camilla had started calling Roland her father, trusting him implicitly.

She shuffled to the next photograph. It showed Roland and Roxanne standing next to a young woman wearing large shades that barely concealed her identity. It was Vanessa. They were enjoying a happy, secret vacation together in a sun-drenched tropical resort.

Camilla turned the photographs over, checking the timestamps printed on the back. The dates proved that this shadow family dynamic had been active for over a year. Everything she knew about her domestic life, the bond she thought she shared with Roland and Vanessa, was a carefully constructed lie.

A sudden, terrifying thought sparked in her mind, sending a deep chill through her veins. The photographs slipped from her fingers, scattering across the carpet. "What about my mother?" she mumbled.

Her mother was currently confined to a private medical facility across town, trapped in a comatose state due to a sudden, unexplained deterioration in her health. If Roland and Vanessa had been acting like a shadow family for a while, lying about everything, what did that mean for her mother?

She looked up at Maximus in a quiet, trembling voice. "My mother... was her condition also part of their plan? Did he do this to her?"

Maximus leaned back in his armchair, a slow, enigmatic smile touching the corners of his mouth. "While the rest of the conspiracy is proven, I cannot yet confirm if your mother’s illness was intentionally caused. Whoever orchestrated it covered their tracks with extreme care. But given what you hold in your hands, you can draw your own conclusions."

Camilla nodded slowly, the harsh reality settling over her like a heavy shroud. Seeing no other escape from the trap her family had meticulously set for her, she realized she had no allies left. If she walked into that shareholder’s meeting blind, Roland would slaughter her professional reputation. The board would deem her unfit. She could not let Maximus do everything for her without understanding his angle.

She forced herself to meet his dark, unwavering gaze. "So your desire to marry me is simply a calculated move to gain my eight percent share in the Sinclair Empire?" she asked flatly.

The Sinclair Empire was an untouchable monolith in the business world. Her grandfather had acquired those shares decades ago, and they were the absolute key to tipping the scales of internal power in Maximus’s favor.

Maximus did not deny it. He maintained his direct, unapologetic approach. "It is a highly beneficial deal for both of us, is it not?" he asked.

Camilla wet her dry lips. Donovan wanted to marry her because he wanted those same shares. Their reasons were identical, except that Maximus was utilizing a direct, honest approach instead of relying on a fake romance.

"By accepting my proposal, you will not only crush Donovan’s ambitions entirely, but you will secure your rightful position as the undisputed heiress of the VS Group," Maximus promised, his tone even and persuasive. "With my backing, Roland’s pathetic scheme will crumble before it even reaches the boardroom."

He reached out to the room service cart, picking up his cup of coffee, and slowly took a sip, letting the weight of his offer sink into her bones.

Camilla bit the inside of her cheek. The math made sense. It was cold, ruthless, and devoid of the romantic fairy tale she had foolishly believed in. She needed a shield, and she needed a sword to strike back at the people who had taken her trust and twisted it into a weapon against her.

She looked at the scattered photos on the floor, then back to the imposing man sitting across from her.

"A marriage of convenience, huh..." Camilla murmured, the words tasting strange but necessary on her tongue.

Maximus lowered his cup. The side of his lips quirked upward, transforming his stoic expression into a sharp smirk. "The perfect one."