The sun was high in the Nantucket sky, casting a warm golden glow over the sprawling Winbury estate. Breakfast had been a wild success—or, at least, a success for everyone except Thomas, who had stormed out with the grace of a soap opera villain while the rest of the family casually enjoyed their freshly baked croissants and gourmet coffee.

Now, Leighton, Kimberly, Whitney, and Bela found themselves strolling the vast backyard gardens with none other than Greer Winbury herself, a woman who oozed refined elegance with every step.

The estate stretched far beyond what they had even imagined. The manicured hedges, the private walking paths, the ocean views that made you feel poor just by looking at them—this wasn't just wealth; this was generational wealth that had never once suffered the inconvenience of budgeting.

Whitney exhaled deeply, stretching her arms as she took in the salty sea air. "God, this is the kind of morning where I forget that student loans exist."

Kimberly sighed. "I feel like I'm in a Nancy Meyers movie, and I never want to leave."

Greer, walking gracefully beside them, sipped her tea. "You know, I've always loved this part of the estate. I used to come here and just… think."

Leighton, raising an eyebrow, glanced at her. "Think about what, exactly? How to maintain your empire?"

Greer chuckled. "Oh, darling, I don't maintain it. I let everyone else do that for me."

Bela, slowing her pace, admired the view. "Okay, I get why you stay in Nantucket. If I lived here, I'd be unbearable about it. Like, I'd work 'I summer in Nantucket' into every conversation."

Kimberly nodded. "Right? I'd force people to ask me where I live just so I could say it casually."

Greer smirked. "I do enjoy a little intimidation factor when people learn I live here year-round."

Bela plopped down on a cushioned lounge chair, sighing dramatically. "This is a perfect moment. I'm at a rich person's estate, drinking expensive tea, breathing in sea air. The only thing that could make this better is if Arvind were here to experience it with me."

Greer raised an eyebrow. "Arvind?"

Bela nodded. "My boyfriend. He's incredible—handsome, charming, an actual adult—which, honestly, is rare for men our age. And he actually listens to my thoughts instead of waiting for his turn to talk. We're obsessed with each other."

Whitney scoffed playfully. "Yeah, yeah. We know you're in love. Some of us are still recovering from tragic romantic choices."

Kimberly sighed. "Don't look at me. My last tragic choice involved a guy who thought 'feminism was a conspiracy'."

Greer's expression remained neutral. "Oh dear. I'd have had him removed from society."

Leighton smirked. "That's why we love you, Greer."

Bela turned to Greer. "Okay, but what about you? What was your love life like before you became Mrs. Winbury?"

Greer sipped her tea, eyes sparkling. "Well, I had many suitors before Tag. Some of them were brilliant, some of them were disasters, and some of them I think may still be obsessed with me."

Whitney gasped. "Wait, you had a stalker?"

Greer chuckled. "Oh, no, darling. I had devotion. Very dramatic devotion."

Kimberly shook her head. "This is so unfair. I love hearing about rich people's romantic turmoil."

Leighton stretched out on a lounge chair, basking in the sun. "I could listen to Greer tell scandalous stories all day."

The moment was perfect.

Until—disaster arrived.

A storm in the form of Thomas Winbury, stomping across the backyard like a man on a mission to ruin everyone's peace.

Leighton didn't even have to open her eyes to know it was him. The air changed. The mood soured.

Whitney sighed. "I knew this moment was too good to last."

Thomas came to a halt in front of them, face contorted in frustration, and pointed at Leighton like he was calling for her public execution.

"You," he spat.

Leighton opened one eye lazily. "Oh, God, what now?"

Thomas ignored the question, turning to Whitney next. "And you. Of course, you're here. Of course, the two most insufferable people I've ever met are currently ruining my backyard."

Whitney gasped, clutching her chest. "Oh no. Are we disturbing your morning tantrum?"

Thomas scoffed. "You people are like termites. You just infest everything, and no matter how many times I try to burn down the house, you're still there."

Leighton stretched her arms dramatically. "Aw, look at you. So mad over so little."

Whitney tilted her head. "Should we be concerned? Because this kind of rage? It feels… personal."

Thomas snapped. "Oh, go fuck yourself, Whitney."

Whitney gasped, looking delighted. "Wow. I think that was the first time you've actually said something honest."

Thomas turned back to Leighton, rage barely contained. "And you—you are, without a doubt, the most evil bitch I have ever encountered in my entire life."

Leighton sighed dramatically. "Oh, honey, you have to stop giving me so much power over your emotions. It's embarrassing."

Greer, who had been watching this entire meltdown unfold while delicately stirring her tea, finally spoke.

"Thomas," she said smoothly, "do shut up."

Everyone froze.

Whitney's mouth dropped open.

Bela choked on her drink.

Kimberly blinked rapidly, as if processing the sheer power move that just happened.

Thomas turned to his mother in shock. "You're kidding me."

Greer set her teacup down, expression unwavering. "No, darling, I am not. You've embarrassed yourself enough for the morning. Take your anger, go for a walk, do something productive."

Thomas stood there, completely betrayed. "You're taking their side?"

Greer smiled. "Of course I am. They're charming, and you, my dear, are having a very public tantrum."

Thomas opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, then stormed off without another word.

The moment the doors slammed shut, Whitney burst out laughing. "That was—I have no words."

Leighton smirked, raising her teacup. "Greer, you are a legend."

Greer simply smiled, stirring her tea.

"Darling," she said with a smirk, "I know."