Sinclair Tower.
On the highest floor of the Sinclair building in the Fort City business center, a man in his early thirties, over 6 feet tall, stood by a glass wall. He still looked dashing in a dark gray custom suit even though office hours had long passed — that man was Tristan Sinclair.
A few minutes had passed, and Tristan just stared at his cell phone in his hand after receiving a call from his butler.
He didn't understand why she left the house.
In a rush!
He already stated in his alimony that the house now belongs to her, so she didn't have to move from that house.
"Why did she leave now?" He muttered softly.
...
"Boss," a man's voice could be heard from behind. Tristan turns to look at the door. "Your mother called a few times, but your phone was busy. She asked me to tell you to call her back, something important she needs to tell you..."
