Liars In Paradise

LONDON’S POV

Someone was banging loudly on my bedroom door.

“London, wake up! You’re going to be late. Your alarm has been going off forever.”

I forced my eyes open, the harsh New York morning sun piercing through a gap in the blinds. I didn’t move. Usually, I was the first one awake in the apartment, up by six to review project briefs before my feet even touched the floor. Oversleeping was an impossibility for the old London.

Today, my alarm had been blaring for an hour. I hadn’t even heard it.

Tessa pushed the door open, already dressed for work and holding her car keys. She looked at me, completely stressed out. “Seriously, London, it’s eight-fifteen. Traffic is going to be a nightmare today. Get up.”

I sat up slowly, pulling my knees tightly to my chest. “I don’t have to move, Tess. I got fired yesterday. I’m out of a job.”

Tessa froze, her hand dropping from the doorknob. “What? You’re kidding. You literally managed the entire marketing strategy for our biggest consulting client last month.”

“They called it restructuring,” I said, my voice flat, sounding distant even to myself. “They cut the senior consultants first to save money. My salary was just the easiest line item to delete.”

“Those absolute bastards!” Tessa shouted, throwing her keys onto my dresser with a sharp clack. “After all the ungodly hours you put in?”

“Who are we murdering?”

Jade walked into the room, yawning. She was wearing a silk robe and her hair was a messy pile on top of her head. But she stopped tracking her own thoughts the second she saw my face.

Behind her, Isla came in quietly, holding a mug of coffee. She didn’t say anything, but she walked over, set the steaming mug on my nightstand, and gave my shoulder a gentle, grounding squeeze.

“They fired her,” Tessa said, pacing around the room. “Can you believe that? After she practically lived at that office?”

“They used me, Tess,” I muttered, looking down at my hands. “The endless late nights. The impossible deadlines. Every time an executive demanded a rewrite at two in the morning, I did it. I barely slept for six months.

I brought folders home every single weekend, and the second a project hit a bump because of someone else’s budget cuts, they blamed me. I broke myself trying to keep that place afloat.”

Jade’s jaw dropped. She climbed right onto the bed next to me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “Oh, absolutely not. We are burning the building down.”

“Jade, please, no arson before coffee,” I said, taking the mug from Isla.

“Honestly, guys,” I said. “I’m okay. I just need a break. I was actually thinking about booking a flight to the UK. Just a quiet month in a small town to clear my head and get away from New York.”

“The UK?” Jade pulled back, looking at me like I’d lost my mind. “London, you are not fixing this by going to some gloomy, rainy town where people just drink tea and hide from their feelings. That’s not a reset. You’re just moving your depression to a different country.”

“It’s peaceful; I need to heal,” I said.

“It’s boring,” Jade countered. She smiled, pulling out her phone. “I’m thinking bigger. Clear blue water and a total disconnect. We need a real vacation. An island.”

Tessa stopped pacing and crossed her arms. “An island? Jade, be serious. I have work.”

Jade rolled her eyes. “That place can survive without you for a month. You complain about your boss every single night. Take your vacation days.”

“And how are we paying for a whole month on an island?” Tessa asked. “We aren’t exactly swimming in cash.”

“Please,” Jade teased, looking at me. “Between your savings and whatever severance they owe you, you can afford a few weeks of sunshine. You’re doing fine. And as for me... well, I know people. Very useful people. Besides, I need a rich guy to take care of all this anyway. New York men are exhausting.”

“Where exactly are you suggesting we go?” Isla asked. It was her first time speaking, her voice calm and quiet.

Jade tapped on her screen and shoved the phone in front of my face. “It’s been all over my feed. Look at this place. It’s called Wyndham Island.”

Tessa and Isla leaned in close behind me. The video showed an aerial view of an island surrounded by perfectly clear turquoise water and white sand. The Wyndham Hotel looked like a massive historic estate right on the beach, mixed with modern luxury suites and private pools. In the background of the video, you could see a huge, heavily guarded wall cutting off the northern side of the island from the rest of the property.

“It’s ultra-luxury,” Jade whispered. “They have a guest program with strictly limited bookings. It’s expensive, which is why it’s so exclusive. The entire island is actually owned by some billionaire patriarch and his family. They keep their own private estate completely blocked off behind that wall.”

Isla reached out, looking closely at the high walls on the screen. “Is it safe?” she asked.

Jade laughed. “It’s a private playground with its own security force, Isla. Nobody is going to kidnap you. If anything, we’re the ones breaking their peace.”

Isla didn’t laugh. She just kept staring at the video. “It just seems incredibly isolated,” she muttered, stepping back.

“Isolated is exactly what London needs,” Jade insisted, grabbing my hands. “Think about it. No work emails. Just the four of us, a massive beach suite, and a whole month of doing nothing. Come on, London. Say yes.”

I looked at the three of them. Tessa had a reluctant smile on her face. Isla was watching me with quiet concern. Jade was waiting to see what I’d say. They genuinely cared about me, and they wanted to help me get through this.

“Okay,” I said, a real smile finally breaking through.

“Let’s do it. Let’s go to Wyndham Island.”

By midnight, the apartment was quiet. The trip was booked, our bags were half-packed, and somehow, our reservation had already been confirmed.

That surprised me.

Jade had spent the entire morning talking about how exclusive Wyndham Island was. I expected some kind of process. Bank statements. Proof of funds. Maybe even a background check before they let four random women anywhere near a billionaire’s private island.

Instead, our confirmation email arrived within a few hours.

Reservation confirmed.

I stared at the text on my screen for a long moment.

“Well,” I muttered to myself. “That was easy.”

But I pushed the unsettling thought away. I had spent months looking for reasons not to leave New York. I wasn’t going to start looking for reasons to stay.

The next morning, the driver unloaded my suitcase. I flinched so hard my shoulder struck the door.

“London.” Jade Morgan seized the handle before it rolled into traffic. “Eyes up. We are leaving New York before New York eats you.”

“I need to answer them.”

“No, you need to get on the plane,” Jade responded.

“It’s a yacht.”

“Even better. Boats don’t have human resources departments.”

Jade dragged the suitcase toward the terminal, pink hair escaping from the knot at the back of her head. Tessa Blake followed with two overstuffed carry-ons and a paper cup balanced dangerously on one lid. Isla Harper was quiet as ever, clutching the passports in a leather folder.

I stood by the curb while cars honked behind me. A delivery truck drove past, filling the air with the smell of diesel. Above me, the airport departures board showed delays, cancellations, and different destinations that made me want to leave.

“Come on,” Tessa called. “Before Jade spends the vacation money on airport perfume.”

“I would smell incredible wearing an airport perfume,” Jade said.

“You already smell like a candle factory.”

“That’s called layering.”

At the check-in counter, the agent looked at our passports and then at the printed booking confirmation Jade handed her.

“Wyndham Island,” the woman said. “Private transfer from the marina. You’ll need to keep these documents with you.”

“See?” Jade said. “Very exclusive. Possibly illegal.”

Tessa elbowed her. “That was not reassuring.”

“It was supposed to be.”

I could barely hear them. The name caught my attention. Wyndham. I had searched for it the night before, after Jade told us about the trip. There wasn't much information. I found only a few blurry pictures of blue water, cliffs in the distance, and a warning that the place could only be visited by invitation.

Now the agent handed back the passports. “Enjoy your stay.

By the time we reached the private marina at the edge of the city, it was getting dark. The water looked dark under the fading light. The yacht waited behind the gate. It was long and white, with its windows glowing against the dark harbor. A guard in uniform checked our names and then let us through without asking for any identification.

I paused at the bottom of the gangway. The yacht rocked gently against its ropes.

“Still time to fake a medical emergency,” Tessa murmured.

Jade lifted her sunglasses, though the sun had disappeared. “I have three fake conditions ready.”

“London?” Isla asked.

I gripped the rail. The metal was cold beneath my palm. Behind me was the city and the office where my career had ended. Ahead was Wyndham Island and my friends, who thought getting away would help me. I stepped aboard. A crew member took my suitcase. I stayed near the back of the yacht until Manhattan disappeared from view.

Then a young woman’s voice rose above the engines. “You’re going to love Wyndham.”

I turned. The woman stood near the covered bar, perhaps twenty-four, with dark blonde hair pinned loosely at her neck and a light blue blouse moving in the wind. She had an effortless beauty. A slim gold chain rested against her throat.

“Have you been here?” Tessa asked.

The woman smiled. “Many times.”

“What’s it like?” Jade leaned forward. “Please say there are private beaches and no motivational wellness activities.”

“There are beaches no one can reach without permission,” the woman said. “And the house sits above the sea. At night, the whole island glows below it.”

“House?” Isla asked.

“Villa, technically. The Hamilton estate.” The name struck me before I understood why.

The woman’s eyes moved to me. “You know the Hamiltons?”

“No.” The answer came too quickly.

Jade glanced between us. “London knows lots of people she claims not to know.”

I shot her a warning look.

The woman laughed, unoffended. “Edward Hamilton owns Wyndham. His family spends part of the year there.”

“Edward Hamilton,” Tessa repeated. “The Edward Hamilton?”

“The eldest is Julian Hamilton.”

My hand tightened around the rail.

The woman continued, unaware or pretending not to notice. “Charles is the charming one. Elliot keeps to himself. Arabella is...”

“Julian,” I said.

The woman stopped.

The engines hummed beneath our feet. Wind pulled a strand of hair across my mouth. “Julian Hamilton,” I repeated. “He’ll be there?”

The woman’s smile changed, thinning at the edges. “I imagine so.”

Jade sat up. “Wait. You know Julian?”

I could not answer.

I remembered at the restaurant from years ago. Julian had sat across from me, his hands resting on the table. He had told me it was over in such a calm voice that I almost thought I was dreaming. No accusation. No explanation. Then he walked out and disappeared.

The woman studied me with sudden interest. “You’re London Caldwell.”

It was not a question. The deck seemed to narrow.

“How do you know my name?”