The moment I saw the house, I knew it was a goldmine wrapped in a wreck. Solara, right in the heart of the capital. The previous owners—family friends—needed a fast exit. They left three years ago, mid-renovation, and all I inherited was a deeply discounted property and a massive headache.
The first clue that I hadn't just bought a house, but a battleground, was the front door. Not a proper lo...
