Sinclair

Descending the grand staircase leading to the ballroom, she clasped his arm tighter. Afraid she'd stumble or worst, fall. His whole family was waiting for them with a smile. Let alone the society, eyeing her like starving piranhas. Ready to annihilate her with the slightest mishap.

"You are doing great, sweet." He muttered, scanning the crowd looking for possible threats while patting her hand in comfort. His grip was strong, a reassurance he got her. She sighed in relief when they alighted the last flight of stairs.

Heading straight to the group where a formidable petite woman was leading, Nicholas bowed respectfully. "Mother." He murmured. "Therese. Ingrid." His sisters...