A subtle shift rippled through Sinclair Corporation following Cherry Thorne's swift and decisive actions.

The New Energy Project Department was no longer stagnant. Everyone felt the pressure, and some—especially those like Engineer Lockhart who genuinely wanted to make a difference—began to see hope.


Cherry was reviewing a detailed report on technical bottlenecks when Vivian called on the internal line, her voice tense: "Deputy Director Thorne, a Mr. Henry Sinclair is here to see you. No appointment."

Henry Sinclair?

Cherry's gaze hardened. Sullivan's cousin—the only son of the Sinclair family's second branch, two years Sullivan's junior. He held a cushy position at a subsidiary company and generally kept a low profile. In Cherry's memory, he was something of a cynical playboy with a taste for parties and sports cars. What could he want?


"Show him in." Cherry closed the file, curious about her "brother-in-law's" agenda.

The door opened and Henry Sinclair sauntered in. He wore a flashy pink shirt, his hair stylishly tousled, a casual smile playing on his lips. Yet his eyes betrayed a shrewdness at odds with his carefree demeanor as he assessed the room.


"Sister-in-law! Power suits you," Henry said with immediate familiarity, dropping into the chair opposite Cherry and crossing his legs casually.

"At the company, address me as Deputy Director Thorne." Cherry corrected him flatly. "What do you want?"

Henry shrugged, unbothered by her coldness. "Can't I just visit my newly appointed sister-in-law? I heard you put that old fox Winston in his place. Bravo! He's been a thorn in my side for years—throwing his weight around just because he's my uncle's old crony."

Cherry remained impassive. "If Manager Sinclair is only here to chat, I have work to do."

"Don't rush me off." Henry leaned forward, his smile fading as he lowered his voice. "Sister-in-law, let's be frank. My brother, for all his business acumen, can be remarkably blind when it comes to… certain matters."

His implication was clear—Victoria Skye and the wedding disaster.

"I'm not interested in President Sinclair's personal affairs." Cherry lowered her gaze to her documents, hiding the turmoil his words stirred.

"Private matters often bleed into public ones," Henry said meaningfully. "For instance, a woman of mysterious background who can make him lose composure in public—who knows if she might be a knife planted in Sinclair Corp's back? Or planted by someone close to my brother?"

Cherry's head snapped up. Did Henry know something? Or was he fishing?

Henry met her gaze, his smile turning knowing. "You're sharp. Though I don't handle core operations, I'm still a Sinclair—I hear things. More than a few people in the company are eyeing my brother's position. Some would love nothing more than to see him fall—preferably over a woman and a bastard child."

He paused, studying Cherry's expression before continuing: "Compared to those outsiders with their hidden agendas, we're family, aren't we? You're leading the new energy project now. If it succeeds, we all benefit. If you need help, or perhaps… information that doesn't appear in official reports, I could be useful."

His words dripped with insinuation—an olive branch suggesting alliance.

His motivation was transparent—he wasn't content being a marginalized Sinclair; he too thirsted for power.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend. The rift between Cherry and Sullivan, combined with Cherry's demonstrated capabilities, presented him with an opportunity.

Cherry weighed her options rapidly. Henry couldn't be fully trusted—he clearly had his own agenda. But his perspective and information might be exactly what she needed.

Swimming alone in Sinclair Corp's shark-infested waters, even tainted information sources were better than none.

"I appreciate your offer," Cherry replied neutrally. "The new energy project is strategically vital and requires cooperation from all departments. Your experience with the subsidiaries must give you unique insights. Perhaps we can exchange ideas when the opportunity arises."

She left the door ajar—neither accepting nor rejecting his proposition.

Henry didn't seem surprised by her response. He smiled and stood. "Then it's settled. I'll let you get back to work. Oh, by the way," he paused at the door, as if suddenly remembering something, "I hear Miss Victoria Skye has been keeping a low profile lately—resting at home, preparing for the baby. Quite peaceful."

He deliberately emphasized "peaceful" before slipping out the door.

Cherry watched him leave, her eyes calculating. Henry's visit confirmed her suspicions—the power struggle within Sinclair Corp ran deeper than she'd imagined.

And Victoria Skye was clearly a key piece on this chessboard.

She called the investigator again, adding Henry's lead about "someone inside hoping for Sullivan's downfall," requesting focused investigation on Sullivan's corporate rivals and their connections.

That afternoon, Cherry visited the new energy laboratory. She needed firsthand understanding of the technical challenges and wanted to further win over key talents like Engineer Lockhart.

As she headed toward the elevator with Vivian, they encountered an unexpected visitor in the lobby.

Victoria Skye.

She wore a loose beige dress with a matching cardigan, her face bare, looking fragile and pale.

She carried a thermal food container, apparently delivering a meal. Upon seeing Cherry, she visibly shrank back, instinctively shielding her abdomen, her eyes showing fear mixed with barely perceptible defiance.

"Miss… Miss Thorne." Victoria's greeting was barely audible.

Cherry stopped, her gaze coolly assessing Victoria and the protective hand over her belly. Though employees pretended not to watch, their sidelong glances brimmed with curiosity.

"Miss Skye," Cherry responded coolly. "If you're unwell, you shouldn't be out and about. I'm sure President Sinclair wouldn't want you overexerting yourself."

Her words sounded concerned but actually highlighted Victoria's awkward position and unwelcome presence.

Victoria's eyes reddened, tears threatening to spill. "I… I heard Sullivan hasn't been feeling well, so I made him some soup. I didn't expect to run into you…"

That pitiful look again. Cherry laughed coldly inside while maintaining a neutral expression. "Since it's for President Sinclair, deliver it to the executive office on the top floor. Reception will assist you. However, I suggest sending a servant next time. After all," her gaze swept over Victoria's belly, "the Sinclair bloodline is extremely precious and cannot risk any mishap. If you were to slip or bump into something here, I couldn't bear that responsibility."

Her words—identical to those at the wedding—carried an unmistakable threat.

Victoria's face drained of what little color it had. She bit her lip as tears welled up, the picture of wounded innocence.

Cherry dismissed her with a glance and said to Vivian: "Let's go."

She strode past Victoria without breaking stride.

As the elevator doors closed, sealing them off from the lobby, Vivian glanced nervously at Cherry's expressionless face.

Cherry's lips curled slightly. Victoria's appearance was no coincidence. A test? A power play? Or an attempt to cement Cherry's image as a bully?

Whatever the purpose, it was painfully transparent.

She opened her palm, the scar still clearly visible.

The thorn in her palm wasn't just a source of pain—it was a reminder that in this game, any hesitation would be fatal.