Huntley Mountain.

That's your home, you own it. The entire mountain. It would be nice to say that you worked your ass off to have the money to spend on owning an entire mountain, but that would be a blatant lie. You come from old money, ancient by some standards, and your family mansion on top of Mt. Huntley used to be the family castle before capitalism reigned in your country and your family went from aristocrat to oligarch. Dear old granddad used to be mayor of nearby Huntley City, but your father decided to pull out of the governing business and into a varied business portfolio. He was the one who tore down the old bricks of the family castle down and put in steel and concrete for a modern mansion befitting a global trend setter.

Not that he enjoyed it for long, as he died from a stroke soon after. Which leaves the family fortune to you, Jason. Luckily for you, dad managed to get you the best education and while he did let you get away with more excesses than most parents would, he made sure that you wouldn't be ruined by your actions. So when he died and you controlled the reins of the family businesses, contrary to the expectations of everyone, you got your i's dotted and your t's crossed. With the help of college buddies and distant relations, you even managed to improve on your wealth and take a step back from direct control so you could enjoy the money you've gained.

Not that you could just stay in your mountaintop house forever, you still needed to get down to Huntley city and attend to various functions, shareholder meetings, and checking in with your associates. And it was going back from one such excursion that you saw Jennifer.

You're driving your convertible on the mountain road back home, an uphill climb with enough twists and turns to let you enjoy the cornering ability of your sports car to the fullest. It's 8 P.M., but it doesn't matter because you made damn sure your way home was well lit. On a long straight you notice you're closing on a figure fast, and you slow down as you wonder why someone would be walking on your road to your home.

Slowing to a crawl, you see that it's a girl with her back to you, wearing scandalous jean shorts that hiked up her ass so high her butt cheeks could be clearly seen, a white tank top showing off her tanned arms, and she was slinging a small travel bag.

Not exactly the kind of person you'd expect visiting you so late at night.