“Winter, come on, we don’t have all day,” Marcus presses, impatience dripping from every syllable as he gestures toward the limousine waiting by the curb.
Winter stares at the sleek black car, her heart hammering against her ribs.
She’d never seen a limousine in real life—only in movies, where they belonged to people who lived in a different universe than hers.
She hesitates, her feet refusing to move, as if they understand something her mind hasn’t yet accepted.
“What about my things?” she asks, glancing at her mother, who stands beside Marcus with an eagerness that makes Winter’s chest tighten.
“I didn’t pack anything. How are we even—?”
Marcus cuts her off with a dismissive wave, the gesture so casual it stings.
“Don’t worry about that, Winter. You’re about to become an upper-class citizen. A Bond.” He smirks, opening the door for Sarah first, as if Winter is an afterthought.
“This means you’ll have to get new clothes, new everything. Your old stuff doesn’t matter anymore.”
The words hit Winter like a slap.
Her old stuff.
As if her entire life can be discarded like yesterday’s trash.
Her stomach turns as she looks at her mother, silently pleading for some acknowledgment that this is all moving too fast.
“Marcus is right, honey,” Sarah assures her, though her voice wavers slightly.
“You’re not going to need your old stuff in Transville. Trust me.”
“Don’t worry too much, child. You’ll adjust,” Marcus adds, his tone patronizing in a way that makes Winter’s skin crawl.
“I’m going to take care of you, and you won’t need to worry about anything anymore.”
Winter fights back the rising dread that threatens to overwhelm her.
She’d decided last night to stop judging Marcus and give him a chance, to try for her mother’s sake.
But she can’t shake the feeling that sinister plans lurk behind his polished words and practiced smiles.
Taking a deep breath, she forces herself to stop overthinking.
Maybe—just maybe—this will prove to be good for them after all.
“Fine,” Winter finally says, her voice barely above a whisper as she moves toward the limousine.
As soon as she slides into the backseat, the soft leather beneath her fingers feels foreign, almost accusatory.
The scent of luxury fills the air—expensive cologne and new car smell—making her feel like an intruder in someone else’s life.
Sarah and Marcus climb in after her, and the driver closes the door with a soft click that sounds like finality.
“See? Isn’t this nice?” Sarah says, turning to her with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
Winter nods, staring out the window as the limousine begins to glide away from the school, leaving behind everything she has ever known.
The familiar brick buildings, the cracked sidewalks, the corner store where she buys candy after school—all of it dissolves into the distance.
“Yeah, I guess,” she mutters, her throat tight with emotions she can’t name.
The limousine continues its journey to the airport, passing through the city as the scenery changes from familiar streets to wide highways and towering buildings that seem to scrape the sky itself. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
When they reach the airport, Winter’s eyes widen in awe despite her anxiety.
She has never been to one before, and the sight of the private jets lined up on the tarmac leaves her breathless.
They look like sleek metal birds, impossibly large and impossibly expensive.
“Wow,” she whispers under her breath, pressing her palm against the window.
Marcus smirks as they pull up to a gate that bypasses the usual security lines.
They are waved through without so much as a second glance, and Winter can feel the weight of stares as they step down from the limousine.
People watch them with curiosity and something that looks like envy.
A beautiful woman wearing a crisp hostess uniform approaches, her makeup flawless, her smile professional.
“Miss Winter, if you could please follow me, I’ll lead you to the jet,” the air hostess says, her voice smooth and polite as she gestures for Winter to follow.
Winter hesitates, glancing back at Marcus and her mother, suddenly uncertain.
This is really happening.
There is no waking up from this.
“Go on,” Marcus says, motioning her forward with a nod.
“Get comfortable. We’ll be right behind you.”
Nodding, Winter allows the hostess to guide her across the tarmac.
Her mouth falls open as she steps onto the jet.
The interior is even more luxurious than she had imagined, with plush leather seats the color of cream, sleek wooden panels that gleam under soft lighting, and tables that look like they belong in a fancy restaurant.
She had never been on a plane before, let alone a private jet.
The reality of her new life hits her all at once, making her dizzy.
The air hostess smiles warmly as she leads Winter to her seat.
“Here you are, Miss Winter. Please let me know if there’s anything you need.”
“Uh, thanks,” Winter says awkwardly, sitting down and running her hands over the armrests.
The leather is butter-soft beneath her fingertips.
She feels out of place, like a fraud wearing someone else’s clothes, but there is no turning back now.
Sarah and Marcus take their seats across from her, and Winter notices the way her mother’s face lights up with excitement, years seeming to fall away from her features.
“Isn’t this amazing, Winter?” Sarah says, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm.
“It’s like a dream come true.”
Winter wants to share her mother’s joy, to feel the same unbridled happiness, but all she feels is a hollow uncertainty.
Marcus leans back in his seat, his eyes fixed on her with an intensity that makes her uncomfortable.
“So, Winter. Is this your first time flying?”
She nods, not trusting her voice.
“Well, get used to it,” Marcus says with a smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“This is just the beginning. There’s so much more waiting for you.”
She forces a smile and turns her gaze to the window beside her, watching the ground crew move about with practiced efficiency.
As the jet takes off, the sensation of leaving the earth makes her stomach drop.
The air hostesses bring snacks—delicate pastries and fresh fruit arranged on fine china—and Winter gratefully accepts them, realizing just how hungry she is.
She hasn’t eaten anything because of the confrontation in the cafeteria, and the snacks are a welcome distraction from her spiraling thoughts.
The flight is smooth, the jet cutting through clouds like they are nothing.
Winter tries to relax, sinking into the comfortable seat, though her mind keeps racing with questions.
Could she really fit into this new life Marcus is offering?
Could she become someone she doesn’t recognize?
She isn’t sure, but she is going to try.
For her mother, she reminds herself.
Always for her mother.
Three hours later, the jet lands at the Transville airport with barely a bump.
Winter’s nerves are on edge as she steps off the plane, only to be greeted by more special treatment.
The staff address her as “Miss Winter,” showing her respect she has never experienced before.
It feels strange, almost wrong, like they are confusing her with someone important.
A sleek black limousine is waiting for them outside, gleaming in the afternoon sun.
A uniformed driver opens the door for them with a slight bow, and Winter slides into the backseat, her hands trembling slightly.
The drive through Transville is surreal, like entering a different dimension.
Everywhere she looks, there are mansions—huge, sprawling estates with immaculate lawns that look like they’ve been trimmed with scissors, towering gates that seem designed to keep the rest of the world out.
It is nothing like Crossria, where houses huddle together and lawns are patchy at best.
The further they drive, the more overwhelmed she feels, the weight of this new world pressing down on her chest.
“Everything’s so big,” Winter murmurs, staring out the window at the endless rows of luxurious homes, each one more impressive than the last.
Marcus chuckles beside her, the sound rich with satisfaction.
“Welcome to Transville, Winter. This is your new world now.”