The private airport smelled of expensive coffee, rain, and awkward goodbyes.
Valentina Rossi stood beside her black designer luggage, wearing an elegant cream-colored coat and dark glasses that perfectly hid the exhaustion beneath her eyes.
She had not slept.
How could she have?
Every time she closed her eyes, she remembered the word:
Montana.
As if it were a sentence.
"You can still run," Julieta Bianchi murmured as she handed her a coffee.
"Don't encourage her," Sofia Moretti said.
"I'm just saying there's probably a yacht waiting for us in Italy right now."
Valentina barely smiled.
"Tempting."
Camila Vega hugged her dramatically.
"If you come back wearing a cowboy hat, I'm never speaking to you again."
"If I come back wearing boots, shoot me."
All four of them laughed, though the pain stayed hidden behind every joke.
Because this time it was real.
Valentina was really leaving.
An assistant approached respectfully.
"Miss Rossi, the plane is ready."
Her chest felt heavy at once.
Sofia took her hand.
"Call me as soon as you land."
"If I survive."
"Don't joke like that."
Valentina swallowed.
She looked one last time at the airport, at New York's gray light through the windows, and then at her friends.
Her life.
Her world.
All of it stayed behind.
"I hate you so much for making me sentimental," she told Sofia.
"And I hate you for leaving."
They hugged hard.
Then Julieta.
Then Camila.
Finally, Valentina drew a deep breath before turning toward the Blackwood private jet.
Even the damned plane looked intimidating.
Black. Elegant. Far too luxurious.
Perfect for a rich stranger who lived among cows and mountains.
She climbed the stairs slowly.
And when the door closed behind her, something inside her understood there was no turning back.
Hours later, the landscape beneath the windows had changed completely.
There were no cities anymore.
No buildings.
No endless lights.
Only huge stretches of green, mountains, and empty roads.
Valentina watched in silence from her seat while she nervously toyed with the edge of her sleeve.
She had never seen so much open space.
It was beautiful.
And terrifying.
The flight attendant smiled kindly.
"We'll land in forty minutes, Miss Rossi."
Forty minutes.
God.
Valentina rested her head against the seat.
She tried to imagine what her new life would be like.
Waking up surrounded by silence.
Horses.
Dirt.
People who would surely look at her as if she were an intruder.
And him.
Ethan Blackwood.
She did not even know his voice.
She only knew he was the man she was going to marry.
Absurd.
She took out her phone by reflex, but there was no signal.
Perfect.
Now not even the internet could save her.
She sighed heavily.
Then she looked down again.
And the landscape managed to distract her for a moment.
Sunset fell over the mountains, painting everything in shades of gold and orange.
It looked like a movie.
One far too quiet for her taste.
When the plane finally landed, Valentina felt her nerves climb into her throat.
The door opened.
And Montana's cold air struck her face at once.
Real cold.
Not New York's fake, elegant kind.
This smelled like damp earth, wood, and recent rain.
Valentina slowly descended the plane's stairs in heels.
Terrible mistake.
Her shoe sank slightly into the mud.
"Fantastic," she muttered.
An older man hurried over to help with the luggage.
Walter Hayes.
"Welcome to Montana, Miss Rossi."
She adjusted her coat.
"Thank you."
Walter smiled kindly.
"Mr. Blackwood had to handle a problem with the cattle this morning, but he'll arrive soon."
Valentina blinked.
"The cattle?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Ma'am.
She nearly had a heart attack.
Walter picked up one of the suitcases.
"The drive to the ranch is approximately one hour."
One more hour?
Perfect.
Wonderful.
Valentina looked around.
There were no buildings.
No noise.
Nothing.
Only enormous mountains and endless roads.
And for the first time since she had accepted the marriage, the fear became completely real.
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