In the glittering world of Westbridge, where mansions line the streets and family legacies are worth their weight in gold, five childhood best friends-Lisa, Theo, Gabe, Gen, and Sam-have grown up in the shadow of privilege, bound by a friendship as...
The private jet terminal at Westbridge International wasn't exactly the scene of early-morning chaos; in fact, it had the hushed calm of a luxury hotel, with champagne on ice and staff who knew each of them by name. Genevieve's father, Mr. Vanderbilt, stood just outside the entrance to the jetway, his face a study of calm as he watched his daughter and her friends, all arriving with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
"Kids, promise me you'll all stay out of trouble." Mr. Vanderbilt's tone was soft, but there was a hint of concern as he surveyed them.
"We always do," Theo replied with a grin, throwing a salute that was maybe fifty percent serious.
"Especially Lisa," Gabe added, unable to resist a smirk in her direction. Lisa raised an eyebrow and offered an overly angelic smile that only made Mr. Vanderbilt's brows inch higher.
"Yes, sir," Lisa said, throwing a playful wink at him. "We'll be the model group."
"Good to hear," he said, though his gaze was still a little wary as he turned to Genevieve. "And Gen, try to keep them in line?"
Genevieve gave a slight smile as she leaned in to hug her father. "I'll do my best. They're unpredictable, though, you know that."
"Indeed I do," he chuckled, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "That's why you're all taking the Vanderbilt jet. If anyone's going to break protocol, I'd prefer it happens in our space."
The jet gleamed on the tarmac, its silver body sleek and spotless. Lisa watched as the crew loaded their bags-Gen's, Theo's, and Sam's small bags, Gabe's leather duffel, and finally her own impressive stack of designer luggage.
"Lisa... are you...," Theo gawked, his head craning to count the bags. "Are you relocating?"
Lisa tossed her hair over her shoulder, unphased. "There's nothing wrong with being prepared. I mean, a girl needs options."
"Options for what?" Gabe grinned, nudging her slightly. "You packing for the weather, or just for your personal amusement?"
"Both," she shot back, eyes gleaming as she looked over the jet and then back at Gabe. "Italy requires finesse, Richmond. You wouldn't get it."
Gabe's smirk didn't waver, and his eyes lingered just a moment too long on her. "Oh, I think I'd manage."
"Alright, lovebirds," Sam interrupted, pointing to the jet's entrance with his camera in hand, "let's get on board before Lisa's shoes need their own passport."
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The jet's cabin was a picture of restrained opulence, with plush cream seats, walnut wood panels, and polished windows that stretched almost from floor to ceiling, letting in the bright, golden morning light. Gen took her seat near the window, a peaceful smile on her face as she pulled out a book, while Theo headed straight for the gaming setup in the back.
