Stepping out of the car, I was met with a sight that stole the breath from my lungs. The Westcott mansion wasn't just a house; it was a fairytale come to life. Bathed in the soft glow of fairy lights strung across meticulously manicured gardens, the white marble gleamed under the moonlight. Countless windows glittered like scattered diamonds, and towering oak trees, their branches heavy with age, stood guard around the property, their leaves rustling softly in the evening breeze.
This wasn't just wealth; it was a legacy etched in stone. It was a world away from my penthouse apartment, a reality that made every extravagant description in novels seem like a pale imitation.
"Are you okay?" Alexander's voice cut through my daze. He stood beside me, his gaze fixed on the sprawling expanse of the mansion and its grounds.