The Novel Free

Twice a Wish





Not that I dreamt anything good. Just goddesses and diamonds and the endless pain of not taking the girl I wanted.

Another ring and I shot awake.

An echoing sound followed, just as piercing, just as annoying.

My cell phone vibrated across my bedside table, the screen lit up, its noise crashing the serenity.

Reaching for it, I fumbled to accept the call, groaning at the time.

Four a.m.

Another ear-splitting ring ricocheted even though the call had already connected, wrenching my attention behind me. Pika hopped across the spare pillow, screeching his head off, mimicking the ring—or trying to.

Caique parrots weren’t known for their vocalization skills. Their mischief, intelligence, and teenage sense of calamity, yes. But their ability to talk as easily as macaws or other feathered cousins, no. The fact that Pika knew a few words and figured out what context to use them was outstanding in and of itself. However, his imitation of a cell phone definitely wasn’t his forte.

“Sinclair? That you?” A man’s voice popped into my ear as I held the mobile close.

Pika let out another painful screech.

I lunged across the pillows, trying to grab his beak to shut him up. He just eyed me with rascal impishness and fluttered into the rafters.

Silence reigned again as I settled back on my bed, rubbing my eyes from haze. “Yeah, Sinclair speaking. Who’s this?”

“It’s Peter Beck, sir.”

“Peter.” I sat up, instantly alert. “Why are you calling me at four in the morning?” The darkness of my villa suddenly seemed full of threats. The heavy stillness of the tropical jungle oppressive outside. The ceiling fan above sent licks of cooler air, ensuring I could sleep with a sheet rather than totally naked.

I didn’t feel the heat much during the day—my body trained to accept a suit and not sweat. But at night, alone, I hated clothing. My flesh needed breeze and sea and freedom.

“Oh, it’s that early? I’m sorry. I forgot to check the time zones.”

“Everything okay with the lab? Nothing’s blown up, has it?” I wiped my mouth, stifling a yawn. Sleep no longer had a hold on me, but my body hadn’t quite caught up with my brain.

“Yes, it’s fine,” the head scientist said. “Our new trial with blending CBD oil with the other compound we were discussing last month is going better than expected. Results are showing significant reduction in cancer cells along with providing pain relief and anxiety suppression in one package.”

“Sounds promising.” When he didn’t continue, I added, “What’s the problem then?”

“It’s Mr. Sinclair, sir. Your, eh, brother.”

Instantly, a heavy scowl tipped my eyebrows down. “I know who Mr. Sinclair is. What’s he done now? He knows he’s not allowed in the building.”

“I know. But…he summoned a private board meeting the other month, unbeknownst to me. He managed to persuade a few members that you’re incapable for the position, no longer have time to spend on his parents’ company, and driving Sinclair and Sinclair Group into the ground with philanthropic work and far too cheap pharmaceuticals. Eh…he convinced a few of the members to accept his proposal that they allow him a lab of his own. To prove that he’s the better leader.” His voice lowered. “He basically means to overthrow you. To toss out the genius and replace with a savant. His words, sir, not mine.”

“He’s not a savant.” I swung my legs off the bed, wedging elbows into thighs and slouching. “However, if he wants to use that term, he’s welcome. After all, I’ve always wondered if he has a mental impairment. Brain damage could explain his behaviour, but it would be too easy. He’s just a liar and a bastard.” My hands curled. “I want him the fuck out of my building.”

“I’m fully aware. But…others have accepted his promises and are financing him behind your back.”

“Goddammit.” My legs bunched, soaring me upright. “The board don’t control my company’s assets. How can they—”

“They control access to labs and technicians if you’re not around to make an executive decision. They provided your brother with what he asked for because, for the first time, he didn’t come sniffing for cash.”

“Yeah, and that’s the terrifying part.”

Even with untold millions from his inheritance, Drake Sinclair seemed to have fingers that coins rapidly spilled out of, whereas I’d taken a slap in the face and turned it into an empire.

An empire that wouldn’t give him a shit-covered penny.

Peter Beck stayed silent, letting my mind whir in peace. My brother had always been a spoiled asshole. The moment I was born, I saw him for what he was. A soulless, cruel, despicable excuse for a human who managed to use reptilian grace and falsehood to con my parents into thinking he was angelic.

His halo had always been blackened, but it didn’t stop them from thinking he hung the moon and stars, while I was the sweeper in the shadows, cleaning up his messes.

When we were younger, if our parents had been in the room, he let me play with his toys, hang with his friends, hugged me like a brother. But the moment they left…fuck me, it’d been a totally different story.

I’d been known as a ‘clumsy’ kid. Breaking bones, ruining clothing, losing belongings. What they didn’t know was, it wasn’t clumsiness causing my pain and unhappiness, but the boy I shared DNA with. A son five years older than me and utterly malicious.

He’d been the catalyst for my first tragedy. The constant devil in the wings, taking anything I loved and destroying it.

“My hands are tied, sir, I’ve tried calling another board meeting to refresh company policy and remind them that you are still very much at the helm, even if you live in Java. But…well, my summons went unheeded.” He sighed heavily. “There isn’t much more I can do without having you personally here.”

“If I visit, I won’t be kind. I won’t be forgiving.” My voice frosted with ruthlessness. “If the board makes me physically appear, their lesson won’t be gentle.” I shrugged, doing my best to roll out the vicious tension in my shoulders. “I’ll fire them and blacklist them from ever working on a board again. I won’t accept any excuses. Back my brother and you’re dead to me.”

“I did try to warn them, Mr. Sinclair.”

“Don’t call me that. Not while my brother holds the same title.” I raked a hand through my hair, my mind already on a plane going to defend my dominion from infidels. “Give me twenty-four hours. I’ll make my brother realise the error of his ways.”

Vengeance would never be so sweet.

I hung up and instantly called another number while striding toward the bathroom. The open air space didn’t look out into a private garden like most of the villas along the ocean did. My personal home didn’t share the beach with goddesses. Instead, it was tucked away in the fronds of huge palms, jackfruit trees, and lime bushes. Heliconias and orchids added colour, enticing birds and butterflies. But it wasn’t the flora and fauna that ensured I’d built my villa inland instead of coastal…it’d been the waterfall.

Nirvana splashed constant and majestic, the perfect backdrop to my shower. Most of the time, I just bathed in the basin formed by the splashing falls. This morning, however, I had no time to waste.
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