The Billionaire's Dangerous Redemption (by Claire Winters) novel Chapter 26

26 The Matriarch’s Familiar Face

My heart raced as Cherry and I stepped out of the Hongqi L5. The air on the Sinclair estate felt different–crisper, cleaner, as if even the oxygen here was exclusive.

“This isn’t just wealth,” Cherry whispered beside me. “This is… power.”

She wasn’t wrong. As Walter Reed led us forward, I noticed discreet security personnel positioned throughout the grounds. Their carpieces and watchful eyes reminded me more of Secret Service than private security.

“The main residence is quite extensive,” Walter explained, gesturing toward what could only be described as a palace. “We’ll take a cart for the remainder of the journey.”

A cart? Just to cross the front lawn?

An electric vehicle pulled up silently. As we settled in, I clutched my portfolio tighter, suddenly feeling woefully unprepared. What did I know about designing for people who lived like this?

“The Sinclair family has occupied this estate for seven generations,” Walter continued as we glided past sculptured gardens and water features. “Though the current residence was rebuilt forty years ago to incorporate both traditional Chinese architectural elements and modern security features.”

Cherry nudged me. “Security features? Like what, a moat with sharks?”

Walter’s lips twitched slightly. “Nothing quite so theatrical, Ms. Chen.“/

The cart rounded a bend, revealing the true scale of the main building. It was massive–at least three stories high with elegant wings extending in both directions. Stone dragons guarded the entrance, their carved eyes seeming to track our approach.

“How many people live here?” I asked, unable to hide my awe.

“The family is quite small but values its privacy immensely, Walter replied. “The estate houses approximately fifty staff members who maintain the property and ensure the family’s comfort and security.”

As we approached the entrance, I suddenly remembered something. Reaching into my purse, I pulled out the handkerchief Sebastian Sinclair had given me at the hospital.

“I should return this to Mr. Sinclair,” I said, showing it to Walter.

He glanced at it, his expression unreadable. “Indeed. I’m certain he’ll appreciate the gesture.”

The cart stopped at the base of wide marble steps. Walter helped us out and led us up toward enormous double doors that looked like they belonged in a museum,

“Mrs. Sinclair is hosting a small gathering of family friends today,” he explained. “She insisted on

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26 The Matriarch’s Familiar Face

meeting you immediately upon your arrival”

My stomach tightened with nerves. “I wasn’t prepared for a social event.”

“Not to worry, Ms. Shaw. Mrs. Sinclair simply wished to greet you personally before your meeting with Mr. Sebastian.”

The doors swung open, revealing a grand foyer with a ceiling so high it made me dizzy. Crystal chandeliers cast rainbows across marble floors. Ancient scrolls and priceless artwork adorned

the walls.

“This way, please,” Walter directed, leading us through a series of elegant rooms.

As we walked, Cherry leaned in close. “I feel like we’re in a museum where we might accidentally break something worth more than our lives.”

I nodded, afraid to speak too loudly in such a sacred space.

We approached another set of doors. Beyond them, I could hear the gentle murmur of conversation and occasional laughter.

Walter paused before entering. “Mrs. Sinclair is the matriarch of the family. She prefers to be addressed as Mrs. Sinclair upon first meeting.”

With that strange piece of advice, he pushed open the doors and announced in a clear voice:

“Ms. Hazel Shaw and her assistant, Ms. Cherry Chen.”

The room fell silent instantly. It was a stunning sunroom with floor–to–ceiling windows overlooking manicured gardens. About a dozen people in expensive clothing turned to stare at

us like we were exotic animals at the zoo.

I froze, fighting the urge to turn and run.

That’s when I saw her.

An elegant woman in her sixties rose from her seat at the center of the room. She wore a simple but exquisitely tailored navy dress, her silver–streaked black hair swept into a classic chignon. Her posture was perfect, her movements graceful as she stepped toward us.

“Ms. Shaw,” she said, her voice warm but commanding. “How delightful to finally meet you.”

As she drew closer, something strange happened. A sense of familiarity washed over me so strongly it made me dizzy. I knew her face. I was certain of it, though I couldn’t place how or why.

“Mrs. Sinclair, I managed to say, extending my hand. “Thank you for inviting me to your beautiful

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