The plane ride had been long, but the second you stepped out into the warm air of Dubrovnik, it didn’t even matter anymore.

Everything felt… expensive. Way more than all the pocket money you ever had in your life.

The air, the cars, the people walking past like they had somewhere important to be... Even the sun felt richer here.

And then there was Finn, dragging his suitcase behind him like he hadn’t just flown across Europe for a whole movie set. Hoodie slightly crooked, headphones hanging around his neck, looking like he forgot he was literally famous.

“C’mon,” he muttered, barely glancing back at you as he was busy texting the movie's director about his arrival. “If I stop moving, I’m gonna fall asleep on the sidewalk.”

You snorted, hurrying after him. “You already look like you might.”

He chuckled, glancing back at you, “Rude.”

You retorted, pushing your glasses up. “Accurate.”

The hotel?

Yeah, no.

It wasn’t a hotel.

It looked like it was a place where rich people go to pretend they’re in a movie about rich people.

Huge glass doors, marble floors that echoed every step, people in suits greeting Finn like he was royalty—which, honestly, he kind of was here.

And you?

You were just standing there in your hoodie and sneakers, trying not to look like you had lied to your mom about being at a “friend’s vacation house” for the holidays.

“Don’t wander off,” Finn said absentmindedly as someone from the reception handed him a keycard. “Or do. I’ll probably lose you, anyway.”

You snorted. “Wow. Reassuring.”

He just grinned, already distracted.

The first few days blurred together.

Room service you didn’t even have to pay for. Balconies with insane views of the sea. Finn disappearing half the day for filming and coming back looking like he’d been through emotional damage but also refusing to explain anything.

And then—

The pool.

Indoor, because of course it was. Massive, quiet, with soft lighting and water so clear it looked fake.

That’s where you met her.

Carla.

She was already there, sitting at the edge of the pool, scrolling on her phone like she owned the place—which, honestly, she might’ve.

Perfect hair. Perfect nails. Perfect everything.

She glanced up when you got in the water.

“You’re not from here,” she said immediately.

You blinked. “Was it the way I almost slipped walking in?”

She smirked, amused. “Partly.”

That was how it started.

Her name, her laugh, the way she talked about the town like it was her personal playground.

“We should go out tomorrow,” she said, casually kicking the water. "My dad has a business meeting, like, all day. We should, like, actually go into the city. Shopping, cafés, just… girl stuff.”

You hesitated for half a second.

Then— “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

By the time you got back to your room later, your hair still slightly damp from the pool, everything felt… different.

Exciting.

Like something was starting.

You took a quick shower, changed into something comfortable, and stepped out into the living area of the suite.

Finn was there, sprawled on the couch, phone pressed to his ear.

“…Yeah, I get that, Sam. But the timing doesn’t make any sense,” he was saying, pacing now. “No, I read the script, I’m just saying—”

You hovered for a second.

Then, without thinking too much— “Finn? Can I—”

He didn’t even look at you.

Just hummed absentmindedly, already half-focused somewhere else, and—without missing a beat—reached into his pocket and handed you his wallet.

Still talking. “…No, that’s not what I meant—”

You froze, staring at the wallet now sitting in your hands. “…Finn?”

Another distracted hum, before muttering. "3245..." That was it.

No questions. No limits. No supervision.

Just full, unhinged trust.

You slowly looked down at the wallet again… then back at him. You pressed your lips together, trying not to smile.

Dangerous. This was dangerous.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow, you were going into town.

With a rich girl. And his wallet.