Chapter 257: Planned Turbulence

Chapter 257: Chapter 257: Planned Turbulence

Friday morning arrived under a pale, overcast sky. By eleven-thirty, two metallic-black Maybach SUVs sat idling silently in the subterranean VIP garage of Zenith Tower, their sleek profiles illuminated by the overhead LED strips.

Jake stood near the lead vehicle in a dark charcoal knit sweater, checking a document on his tablet. Flanking the perimeter were his two personal security detail members, Elias and Miller—tall, stone-faced, and attentive to every shadow in the bay.

Nearby, two other bodyguards, Kovacs and Sarah, stood near the secondary SUV. Sarah held a small leather travel pouch, while Kovacs double-checked the secure luggage compartments. They were assigned specifically to Jake’s younger sister, Aliya.

The VIP elevator chimed, its doors sliding open smoothly.

Aliya marched out, dragging a sleek white carry-on suitcase, her face painted with absolute triumph. Right beside her was her high school best friend, Fancy.

Unlike Aliya, who stepped into the garage with effortless familiarity, Fancy looked equal parts overwhelmed and utterly bewildered. All Aliya had told her the night before was to pack her bags because her billionaire brother was taking them on a weekend trip to Geneva. Fancy knew Jake had achieved unimaginable financial success, so a sudden overseas trip wasn’t completely out of the question—but Aliya hadn’t dropped a single additional detail.

Now, standing in the private underground garage, Fancy’s eyes widened as she took in the scene.

Stepping out of the adjacent express elevator was a group of young men who looked like they had walked straight off the cover of an international business magazine: Adrian Vale, Noah Chen, Marcus Sheele, and Leon Hart.

Fancy froze in her tracks, her breath hitching slightly.

’Are you serious?!’ she thought, her stomach doing a violent flip.

These weren’t just wealthy guys; they were the heirs to massive industrial conglomerates and global financial dynasties. These were the names that made corporate CEOs bow and boardrooms tremble. She had spent the entire previous night nervously overthinking how to properly behave around Jake Rivers, but seeing the entire Aurelia Capitals members standing here in tailored coats made her feel like she had accidentally stepped onto a movie set.

She tucked her hands tightly into the pockets of her cardigan, instinctively taking half a step behind Aliya, determined to stay as quiet and invisible as humanly possible unless directly addressed.

"Twelve-hundred on the dot!" Aliya announced proudly, holding up her phone screen showing 12:00 PM sharp. "Not a second late! So you can save the lecture, big brother."

Jake chuckled, shaking his head as Elias stepped forward to politely take Aliya’s suitcase and load it into the rear trunk. "Point made," Jake said smoothly.

Aliya turned slightly, gesturing toward her friend. "Everyone, this is Fancy. Fancy, you know the guys."

"Hi..." Fancy squeaked, her voice far higher than normal. She immediately cleared her throat, her face flushing crimson. "I mean—hello, everyone. It’s... nice to meet you all."

Noah gave a friendly, warm smile. "Hey, Fancy. Great to have you along."

"W-We’re very happy to be here," Fancy stammered out, her hands trembling slightly against her strap. "Thank you for... having us... on the... trip."

Aliya glanced at Fancy out of the corner of her eye, her lips twitching into an amused, mischievous grin as she watched her usually talkative best friend completely stumble over basic vocabulary.

"Alright, let’s load up before air traffic control gives our departure window away," Marcus said with a faint laugh, motioning toward the Maybachs.

---

Twenty minutes later, the Maybachs pulled directly onto the tarmac of the private terminal, stopping beside the gleaming white hull of the Bombardier Global 7500—a 680 million marks ultra-long-range private jet recently acquired under Rivers Aviation. Sporting a staggering 7,700 nautical mile range for true non-stop global reach, its sleek, pearl-white fuselage carried subtle metallic silver accents near the tail fin.

Mark Thompson was waiting near the air-stairs, clad in a crisp dark suit, supervising the final baggage loading with two ground crew members. As Jake stepped out of the vehicle, Mark walked over, his expression filled with immense respect.

"Everything is locked and loaded, Mr. Rivers," Mark reported, lowering his voice slightly. "Flight path cleared across international airspace. We’ll be at cruising altitude twenty minutes after takeoff. Estimated flight time is roughly ten hours, putting us in Geneva just after midnight local time."

"Great work, Mark," Jake said, giving his shoulder a firm clap. "Now go tend to your family."

"Thank you, sir. Have a safe flight."

Fancy stepped out of the Maybach and completely stopped, her mouth slightly agape as she stared up at the massive, twin-engine beast of a jet.

"We’re... we’re flying on ’that’?" Fancy whispered to Aliya, her eyes wide with shock.

"Yep!" Aliya grinned, slinging a designer camera bag over her shoulder. "Come on!"

They boarded the aircraft, stepping into an interior that looked more like a five-star Manhattan penthouse than a plane. The Global 7500 accommodated nineteen passengers across four distinct, sprawling living spaces—featuring plush cream leather captain chairs, a state-of-the-art entertainment lounge, a dedicated conference dining room, and a master bedroom suite in the aft complete with a permanent queen bed and an en-suite lavatory.

While Sarah and Kovacs quietly took their seats near the front security cabin alongside Elias and Miller, Aliya turned toward the group in the lounge area, pulling out a high-end compact vlogging camera mounted onto a handheld stabilizer.

"Hey, guys," Aliya called out smoothly, tapping the side of the camera. "I hope you guys don’t mind if I film a vlog during the trip?"

Leon smirked, raising his glass. "Only if you capture my bad side, Aliya. Which doesn’t exist."

"As long as you don’t post a single frame until we’re back in the capital," Adrian added, his tone measured but relaxed. "We don’t need real-time tracking on our flight path."

"Deal!" Aliya promised cheerfully. "Strictly post-trip content!"

She flipped the screen, pressed record, and walked briskly down the main aisle with practiced flair.

"What is up, guys!" Aliya spoke into the lens with high-energy enthusiasm. "Welcome back to another vlog! Today we are taking an impromptu, ultra-luxury weekend trip to Geneva, Switzerland! And yes... we are currently standing inside my brother’s ridiculously insane recently bought 680 million marks Bombardier Global 7500!"

She spun the camera around to showcase the sleek wood veneer paneling, ambient LED strip lighting, and deep leather seating.

"Hey, Al," Jake’s calm voice echoed from the main conference lounge near the center of the jet. He was leaning back in a master swivel chair, sipping a glass of iced sparkling water. He raised an eyebrow at the camera pointed directly at his face. "Why aren’t you asking the owner for permission before filming?"

Aliya didn’t even blink. Without stopping her camera angle, she casually reached out, grabbed a small portable tripod stand off the table, and shoved it into Jake’s hand.

"Hold this stand while I adjust the lens focus, please," she commanded nonchalantly.

Jake looked down at the plastic tripod in his hand, then up at his little sister, completely rendered silent by her sheer audacity. He let out a heavy, defeated sigh, leaning back and resting his temple against his knuckles.

From the adjacent leather booth, Leon Hart burst out into a loud, unrefined laugh, nearly spilling his glass of iced whiskey.

"Unbelievable!" Leon wheezed, clapping his hands together. "Look at this! The man who single-handedly shakes up the finance world and moves corporate stock by billions... defeated by his second-year university sister! Now we finally know who holds the true power in the Rivers family!"

Noah, Marcus, and Adrian all broke out into amused chuckles, while Aliya gave the camera a cheeky wink. "You heard it here first, guys! Billionaires have to hold the tripod when little sisters are in the room!"

Over in the corner of the lounge, Fancy sat rigid in her leather seat, terrified to even make a loud movement. Seeing how casually Aliya handled Jake and the terrifyingly rich group of heirs made her stomach twist in secondhand anxiety. When Noah turned slightly toward her and offered a polite, "Are you comfortable, Fancy?", she flinched, nodded vigorously, and blurted out, "Yes! Very comfortable! The... air quality is very high, thank you!"

Aliya stifled another giggle from behind her camera lens, thoroughly enjoying her friend’s nervous state. She cut the camera recording, clicked off the stabilizer, and slid into the plush seat right next to Fancy.

The moment Aliya sat down, Fancy leaned over sharply, her hand darting out to deliver a hard, frantic pinch to Aliya’s forearm.

"Ow! Hey!" Aliya winced, rubbing her arm as she glared at her best friend in mock outrage. "What was that for?"

"Why didn’t you tell me ’they’ were going to be here?!" Fancy hissed under her breath, her eyes wide as saucer plates as she gestured discreetly with her chin toward the conference table. "The elite heirs of Veyra?! Are you insane, Aliya? I’m wearing a two hundred marks cardigan!"

Aliya grinned, her dark eyes sparkling with unholy amusement as she leaned in close. "Because if I told you, you would have spent three hours trying on twenty outfits, panicked, and refused to get in the car. Plus, the look on your face when Noah said hello in the garage? Absolutely priceless. Best moment of my month."

"You are evil," Fancy groaned, burying her face in her hands. "An evil, terrible person."

"Relax," Aliya laughed softly, tossing an arm over Fancy’s shoulder. "They’re just guys. Ridiculously rich guys, sure, but my brother is richer and he controls the plane, so you’re officially untouchable."

Within fifteen minutes, the Global 7500 roared down the runway, lifting smoothly into the overcast sky and slicing through the cloud layer into brilliant, uninterrupted sunlight.

As the seatbelt sign turned off, the cabin crew served champagne and light refreshments. Leon, Noah, Marcus, and Adrian gathered around the main conference table with Jake, opening their laptops to analyze auction catalogs.

"We’re completely off the grid for the next eight hours until we hit European satellite relay," Adrian mentioned, closing his laptop screen halfway. "Enjoy the quiet while it lasts."

Jake leaned back in his leather captain’s chair, holding a glass of sparkling water, looking out at the vast sea of white clouds below. Everything felt balanced. His positions were secured, Rivers Aviation was operational, and his inner circle was intact.

He closed his eyes, letting the steady hum of the engines lull him into a rare moment of peace.

---

While the Bombardier Global 7500 sailed quietly across the sky at forty thousand feet, miles away from any immediate network connection, a storm was brewing in the capital’s financial district.

It was 2:30 PM on Friday afternoon.

Inside a high-end PR firm’s office overlooking Central Avenue, Troy Newman stood behind a desk, watching a countdown timer on an encrypted tablet. Opposite him sat two prominent entertainment journalists and a senior editor from the city’s largest tabloid network, The Capital Sentinel.

"Everything is verified?" Troy asked, his voice low and dripping with poison.

"The photos from the auction night, the tip-offs from the hotel staff, and the private sighting logs from the Meridian lounge," the senior editor replied, tapping a thick manila folder resting on the desk. "The framing is airtight. ’The Secret Connection Between Jake and the Elizabeth Roys: What About Catharine Stone?’"

Troy’s lip curled into a dark, satisfied smile.

He didn’t need the story to be legally airtight. In the court of public opinion, perception was everything. Linking Jake in an alleged secretive, high-stakes romantic and political entanglement with Elizabeth Roys while publicly holding hands with Catharine would trigger immediate chaos.

It would shock Catharine’s family circle, force the high-society elites to distance themselves to avoid public scandal, and severely damage Jake’s personal credibility.

Most importantly, Jake was currently trapped mid-flight, unreachable over the ocean, incapable of issuing a statement, launching a legal cease-and-desist, or pulling strings with media heads before the evening news cycle went live.

"Publish it," Troy commanded coldly. "Blast it across every digital portal, entertainment column, and financial blog before four o’clock."

"Consider it done, Mr. Newman."

Troy walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out over the sprawling city. He picked up his glass of whiskey, taking a slow, deliberate sip as the cold realization set in.

*Let’s see how well you handle the heat when your reputation burns from the inside out, kid,* Troy thought, his eyes gleaming with malicious triumph. ’By the time your plane touches down in Switzerland, you won’t be worried about supercars. You’ll be begging for air.’

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