128 An Unexpected Rescue
Hazel’s POV 1
I stared at the plain white wall of the waiting room, watching the minutes tick by on the institutional clock. Three hours had passed since Director Chen and Investigator Wong had left me alone “to consider my situation.” My back ached from the uncomfortable plastic chair, and hunger gnawed at my stomach.
This was a tactic-isolate me, wear me down, make me desperate enough to sign whatever documents they put in front of me. I understood the game, but knowing the rules didn’t make playing any easier.
The door swung open. A young staff member I hadn’t seen before stood in the doorway, looking slightly confused.
“Ms. Shaw? You’re free to go.”
I blinked, certain I’d misheard her. “Excuse me?”
“You’re free to leave,” she repeated, gesturing toward the hallway. “Someone’s here for
you.”
I stood slowly, suspicion replacing relief. This sudden freedom felt like another trap. But as I stepped into the hallway, my breath caught in my throat.
Sebastian Sinclair leaned against the opposite wall, impossibly handsome in a charcoal suit that screamed wealth and power. His eyes met mine, and something in his gaze made my heart skip.
“There you are,” he said, his deep voice perfectly casual, as though rescuing women from tax investigations was his daily routine. “Ready to go?”
Words failed me. I nodded, still processing his unexpected appearance.
Sebastian’s hand found the small of my back as we walked, a gesture both protective and possessive. The warmth of his palm seeped through my blouse, steadying me when my legs felt like jelly.
“Mr. Sinclair!” A voice called from behind us.
We turned to see Director Chen hurrying toward us, her earlier coldness replaced by
128 An Unexpected Rescue
fawning deference, “I hope everything was handled to your satisfaction, sir.”
Sebastian’s expression remained neutral, but his voice carried an edge of steel. “Next time, Director Chen, I expect to be notified immediately when you detain someone connected to the Sinclair family. Especially on such flimsy grounds.”
Connected to the Sinclair family? I kept my face carefully blank, but questions exploded in my mind.
Director Chen paled visibly. “Of course, Mr. Sinclair. A regrettable oversight. The investigation will be conducted with the utmost propriety.”
“See that it is.” Sebastian’s dismissal was polite but final. His hand returned to my back, guiding me toward the elevator.
Only when the elevator doors closed, leaving us alone, did I find my voice. “How did you—”
“Your friend called me,” he said, answering before I could finish. “Cora Cadwell. She was quite frantic.”
“Cherry must have called her,” I murmured, piecing it together. “But how did you get them to release me so quickly?”
A small smile played at his lips. “Let’s just say the tax bureau and I have a mutual understanding.”
The elevator opened to the lobby, and Sebastian led me through it with the confidence of someone who owned the building. People stepped aside, their gazes a mixture of curiosity and awe. I felt the weight of their stares on my back.
Outside, Sebastian’s sleek black Bentley waited at the curb. He opened the door for me, and I sank into the buttery leather seat, finally allowing myself to exhale.
When he slid in beside me, he pulled out his phone. “You should probably call your friend. She’s been texting me every five minutes.”
He handed me his phone, our fingers brushing. The screen displayed a stream of increasingly panicked messages from Cora:
_Any news?
Is she okay??__
128 An Unexpected Rescue
Sebastian please tell me something!__
I’m about to call the police!!___
I tapped the call button, and Cora answered before the first ring ended.
“Sebastian? Is she-”
“It’s me,” I said, my voice cracking unexpectedly.
“Hazel! Oh my God, are you okay? What happened? Cherry called me saying you were detained and I didn’t know what to do so I called Sebastian and-”
“Breathe, Cora,” I interrupted her ramble. “I’m fine. It was just a misunderstanding.”
I could hear her skepticism through the phone. “A misunderstanding that required. Sebastian Sinclair to bail you out? Try again.”
I glanced at Sebastian, who was pretending not to listen while instructing his driver. “It’s complicated. I’ll explain everything later.”
“You’d better. And Hazel?”
“Yeah?”
“He dropped everything the moment I called. Literally walked out of a board meeting. Just saying!”
Heat crept up my neck. “I’ll call you tonight,” I mumbled before ending the call.
When I handed his phone back, our eyes met. “Thank you,” I said softly. “For coming to my rescue.”
“It was nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing to me.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. “They were talking about criminal charges, prison time. My father set me up perfectly.”
Sebastian’s jaw tightened. “What exactly did they accuse you of?”
“Tax evasion. Apparently, I’m now the majority shareholder of my father’s company-a company that conveniently owes millions in unpaid taxes.”
The car pulled away from the curb, sliding into afternoon traffic. My stomach growled audibly, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Hungry?”
I nodded, embarrassed. “Starving, actually. I don’t suppose your superhero services extend to lunch?”
His laugh was unexpected and genuine, transforming his serious face. “I think that can be arranged.”
He directed the driver to a small restaurant tucked away on a side street. It looked modest from outside, but the interior was elegant and discreet. The owner greeted Sebastian by name and led us to a private booth in the back.
“How’s your son doing at Stanford?” Sebastian asked him.
The owner’s face lit up. “Top of his class, thanks to that scholarship. We can never. repay your kindness, Mr. Sinclair.”
I added another piece to the puzzle that was Sebastian Sinclair. Powerful enough to intimidate tax officials, yet thoughtful enough to help a restaurant owner’s son attend college.
After we ordered-Sebastian somehow knowing exactly what I would enjoy without asking-I felt myself truly relax for the first time all day.
“I didn’t know where else to turn,” I admitted, fiddling with my water glass. “When they took my phone, I felt completely helpless.”
“You’re never helpless, Hazel,” he said quietly. “But everyone needs backup sometimes.”
Our food arrived, momentarily pausing our conversation. I took a few grateful bites, savoring the flavors and the respite.
Sebastian watched me eat for a moment before placing his chopsticks down. His expression had shifted from relaxed to focused, those dark eyes studying me intently.
“Hazel,” he said, his voice serious. “Was your detention today related to Far Ocean Trading’s tax issues?”
The direct question jarred me. I swallowed hard, surprised he knew the company name. “Yes, but how did you-”
“How much do you know about your father’s business activities?” he continued, cutting me off.
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The atmosphere between us changed instantly. This wasn’t just a friendly rescue lunch anymore. Sebastian was probing, investigating-just as the tax officials had been.
I placed my chopsticks down carefully, meeting his gaze. “Apparently not enough. Why do you ask?”
His expression revealed nothing. “Because I think we need to talk about what your father has really been up to.”
