Two weeks later.
The sky above was a brilliant shade of blue, clear and endless, dotted only by the occasional cloud drifting lazily. The private airstrip, hidden away from the bustle of Florittle, buzzed quietly with activity.
Two staff members were preparing the last of the flight logistics, checking the jet's systems as the aircraft gleamed under the early morning. But what caught Ruby's breath—what made her heart skip a beat—was the private jet waiting quietly at the edge of the runway.
It was sleek. Elegant. Painted a polished pearl white with gold linings that shimmered under the sunlight. The jet looked like something out of a luxury magazine—its exterior alone oozed wealth and class. The stairs were already lowered, gleaming silver with velvet steps as though rolled out just for royalty.
Ruby blinked, stunned. "Is that… yours?" she asked, turning to Stefan as they stepped out of the car.
