Rumour Has It (Seven Deadly Sinclairs Book 2)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Copyright (C) 2023 by Naaz Spencer All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in reviews. Cover design by Books and Moods Interior formatting by AJ Wolf Graphics Editing by Lunar Rose Editing Services Published by Naaz Spencer Copyright Trigger Warning Dedication Author's Note Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two VoxPost Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Epilogue Enjoyed Rumour Has It? Notes on Love A little about Naaz This book contains topics that some may find triggering. These include scenes and discussion of cancer and cancer treatment, time in hospital, death, loss of a parent, grief, mature language and sexually explicit scenes. If you are uncomfortable reading these situations, then Rumour Has It may not be for you. Reader discretion is advised G - thank you for giving me the universe when I needed it most. The Seven Deadly Sinclairs series is about seven brothers each representing a sin and their journey to find love. The books are a series of interconnected standalones and can be read in any order but for the best understanding should be read in numbered order. Seth Sinclair – Wrath Aiden Sinclair – Lust Noah Sinclair – Gluttony Ethan Sinclair – Greed Warren Sinclair – Pride Mason Sinclair – Sloth Zane Sinclair – Envy The feedback from the microphone sounded through the room, causing guests to wince. The DJ took his cue and cut the music, leaving the sound of hushed chatter filling the busy space. “Could I have your attention, please?” Dad said from the small stage at the front of the area. I was yet to figure out who’d given the orders for erecting it because I knew it wasn’t one of my requests. Dad was dressed as Bert from Mary Poppins, complete with ashy smudges along his cheeks. The chimney sweep brush rested against his shoulder as he clutched the microphone in his hand and stared out at the crowd. Even in the dim lighting of the room, there was no mistaking the green eyes I’d inherited from my old man. “I’m going to murder whoever handed him that mic,” I muttered to Addie from the corner of my mouth. “Where’s my beautiful daughter?” All the eyes in the room fell on me, a palpable shift in focus, and Dad beamed. “Come here, Princess.” Addie chuckled as she took the champagne glass out of my hand and a blush burnt across my cheeks as I took steady steps toward my parents. My thirtieth birthday bash had been in full swing for hours and I thought I’d got away with it, but I should have known Henry Harrington would want his say. Dad would never miss an opportunity for some pomp and circumstance. It ran through his blood. As I reached them, I brushed a kiss on Dad’s cheek, avoiding the stage makeup, and hugged my mum. Her costume was Mary Poppins - the classic white dress, of course - perfectly paired with her husband’s. She kept an arm around my waist, and I rested my head on her shoulder. “I tried to advise him against this,” she whispered to me. “But you know your father.” “You couldn’t have locked him in a cupboard until the end of the night?” “I was very tempted.” We laughed quietly, and I squeezed her against me. This was my family. Mum, Dad, and me. The three musketeers. I counted myself blessed to have grown up with two powerful role models in my life, and although we’d had some rocky years when I was a teen, our relationship continued to grow stronger as I got older and my temper levelled out. “I wanted to thank you all for coming to celebrate Tiffany’s thirtieth birthday.” Dad’s voice reverberated across the room. “She’s the most precious gift I’ve ever received in my life.” “Oh, God.” I blanched. I wasn’t concerned about him announcing my age to a room full of guests, but there was usually more preamble before he became a sentimental old man. “Mum, do something,” I begged in a whisper. “I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become,” Dad said, looking at me with glassy eyes. Mum let go of my waist and gently pried the microphone from his hand. “We don’t want to stop the party, but we’d like you all to raise a glass to Tiffany. Happy birthday, sweetheart! We can’t wait to celebrate many more with you.” There was a chorus of “to Tiffany!” and a sea of glasses raised to the ceiling. The DJ introduced the bass line again and guests split off from the crowd to dance, drink, and enjoy the night. I looked up at my dad with a hand on my hip. “How much have you had to drink, old man?” I teased. “People are going to think you’re turning soft. That’s a personal best for the waterworks.” Dad was five-foot-ten and a formidable figure in the media world. He carved a name for himself, making connections and advising people until he finally took on employees. With Mum by his side, he formed Harrington PR, and one tiny office in London expanded until we were based around the world - heralded for our glowing services. “It’s not every day my little girl turns thirty,” he