Episode 2

Dawn in Montana did not need permission to be beautiful.

The sun had only begun to rise behind the mountains, tinting the fields gold while cold air moved across the enormous Blackwood ranch.

Horses running.

Cattle shifting slowly.

Damp earth under his boots.

And in the middle of it all stood:

Ethan Blackwood.

His sleeves were rolled up, mud stained his jeans, and his stare was as hard as winter.

He held the rope tight while one of the calves tried to break free.

"Easy."

The animal finally gave in, and Ethan finished the job without help.

As always.

"You know you have employees for this, right?"

Ethan barely lifted his gaze.

Noah Blackwood was walking toward him along the fence, a cup of coffee in his hand.

"And you know you talk too much this early."

Noah laughed.

"Dad wants to see you."

That wiped away any trace of calm.

Ethan grabbed a rag and cleaned his hands.

"What now?"

"He's in a funeral mood, so probably something fun."

Ethan walked toward the ranch's main house.

It was an enormous dark-wood structure, old and elegant, inherited through generations of Blackwoods.

It was not a modern mansion.

It was history.

And also a burden.

He went straight into the office, where William Blackwood watched over a stack of documents with an exhausted expression.

The man had once been imposing.

Now illness was stealing his strength day by day.

"Took you long enough."

"I was working."

"As if you were just another ranch hand."

"Because I am."

William set the papers on the desk.

"You're not a ranch hand. You're the next owner of all this."

Ethan planted both hands on the table.

"What happened?"

His father did not waste time.

"The investors want guarantees."

"They'll have them."

"They don't trust a single man."

Ethan frowned.

"What the hell does that mean?"

William held his gaze.

"You need to get married."

Silence.

Then Ethan let out a dry laugh.

"No."

"Ethan..."

"I'm not dragging a woman into this just to calm shareholders down."

"This isn't just about the ranch anymore."

William coughed hard before he went on.

"When I die..."

"Don't talk like that."

"When it happens, the Blackwoods will need stability."

Ethan's jaw tightened.

He hated these conversations.

Because they meant accepting something he still was not ready to lose.

"I found a suitable family," William continued. "The Rossis."

"The ones from New York?"

"Their company needs help. We need political connections and expansion."

Ethan began to understand where all of this was going.

And he disliked it immediately.

"I don't want a city wife."

"You don't need to want her. You need to marry her."

"And what does she get?"

"She saves her family."

Ethan gave a bitter laugh.

"So we're both being sold."

William said nothing.

That was answer enough.

Ethan dragged a hand over his face.

"What's she like?"

"Only daughter. Intelligent. Difficult temperament."

"Perfect."

"She resembles you more than you imagine."

"That sounds awful."

For the first time in days, William almost smiled.

Then he slid a photograph across the desk.

Ethan picked it up without much interest.

But when he saw it...

He went still.

Valentina Rossi.

Elegant dress.

Proud gaze.

Impossible beauty.

And eyes that clearly knew how to challenge.

She did not look delicate.

She looked dangerous.

"She definitely hates me already," he murmured.

"Probably."

Ethan put the photo back on the table.

"This isn't going to work."

"It has to work."

"She's a city girl. She'll last a week here before she runs off screaming."

William watched him steadily.

"Then don't let her run."

Ethan left the office with his chest heavy.

He crossed the porch as the cold wind struck his face.

An arranged marriage.

To a stranger.

A woman used to luxury, parties, and tall buildings.

Someone who would surely hate mud, animals, and the silence of the countryside.

A perfect disaster.

But as he lit a cigarette, an uncomfortable thought appeared in his mind.

That woman's eyes did not look like they belonged to someone easy to break.

And for some reason...

That interested him more than it should have.

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