Lavish Prison      

As we pulled up to the mansion, I couldn't help but stare in awe. It was a masterpiece—a grand, classical French château with every detail meticulously crafted.

The towering stone walls, intricate ironwork, and manicured gardens gave off an air of old-world elegance.

It felt less like a home and more like stepping into a different era, where everything screamed wealth, history, and untouchable legacy.

I knew for a fact that Sophia had her sights set on this ancestral home for years. She had bent over backward, doing everything in her power to cozy up to Sinclair, hoping that one day he'd pass it down to her.

In her mind, this was her future—the crown jewel of her efforts.

But that was all wishful thinking now. Sophia might have had plans, but knowing Sinclair, he'd probably leave the entire estate to his dog before he ever gave it to her.