𝐌𝐬. 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲

The rest of Quincy's birthday was one that she would remember for the rest of her life.

Quinn wasn't that comfortable to be seen out in public, of course to the drama surrounding the two's relationship. And if she's being honest, she didn't know how she would react if she saw cameras flashing in her and Ignacio's faces, especially when they had just gotten back on good terms.

But it's like Ignacio was already ten steps ahead, hiring a private chef to make them both a romantic five-course meal in Ignacio's home.

Quinn was ecstatic, especially since she was able to relax and fully enjoy her time with her partner.

Even though Quinn was content with how their night concluded, Ignacio wasn't done with spoiling her.

The next morning, Quinn had woken up annoyed, met with an empty bed once again, knowing Ignacio had gone to work before she even opened her eyes.

But she woke, in his place on the bed were gift bags and clear instructions on what her itinerary of the day would consist of, her Saturday morning and afternoon being packed to the brim.

Quinn was ecstatic, and even shed a few tears with how Ignacio was treating her. She felt like royalty, and not even due to the material things, but due to how he was making sure she felt appreciated.

Any person on the outside would have just thought Ignacio was doing what he should've been doing, this type of treatment being an expectation.

And he knew that it was, setting the standards so high that he knew no one else would be able to match it.

But of course, Mr. Silva had an ulterior motive.

Along with wanting to pamper the love of his life, he also needed to make sure she was busy for the majority of the work day, needing to run some errands that he didn't want her to worry about.

Ignacio didn't consider this as keeping secrets, because he had let her know that he was actively working on a case to take down Jordan Scott, but she didn't need to know to what extent he was willing to go.

Stepping out of his vehicle in the dreary Eastern State Penitentiary's parking lot, Ignacio shoved his hands in his peacoat, dressed as if he had just left his workplace.

Walking into the waiting room for visitation hours, the small number of people sitting in various seats grew scared, feeling such a dominating presence from this one man alone.

Signing in and giving the receptionist a small smile, he made sure not to give too much attention to the young woman, catching how she was practically drooling over the sign-in book.

Within minutes, Ignacio was now sitting with one of his lawyers in front of a shocked Armani, not expecting to see Ignacio, and especially not with an attorney.