Ethan's POV
Eating lunch with the farmhands still felt surreal. I was one of them now—blending in or at least trying to. The sweat clung to my back, and the dirt under my fingernails was proof of my morning's work, yet I still felt like an outsider. The girls' constant glances and hushed whispers told me I wasn't fooling anyone.
Vince, ever amused, shot me one of his knowing looks. He had invited me here countless times and tried convincing me that the farm had its charm, but I always turned him down. I belonged in the city, or so I thought.
Unlike me, he loved this life. He thrived in the dirt and sweat of the farm, calling it freedom. I wasn't so sure about that.
The only reason people mistook him for the owner's son was because my father allowed it. I had overheard the girls gossiping about him in the hallways, whispering about how Vince must be the heir. And honestly? I didn't care.
If anything, I preferred it that way. I wanted them to believe Vince was the rich one. They didn't even know I was the heir, yet the girls didn't stop looking at me like I was some prize to be won. Back in the city, I had no interest in girls who only cared about my last name.
Still, I couldn't deny the strange pull of this place.
The vast plantation stretched beyond the farmhouse, golden fields rolling toward the distant hills that belonged to my family. As a child, I had barely given it a second glance, but now, for the first time, I understood why Vince was drawn to it. The farm was more than just land—it was alive. It breathed with the wind, its heartbeat in the rhythm of the rustling leaves and the distant calls of cattle.
A sense of peace settled over me, though I refused to admit it aloud.
Those hills held some of my best memories. Every summer, my father used to take Vanessa and me there at sunset, just the three of us. He'd lift me onto his shoulders so I could see beyond the fields, telling me that all of it would be mine one day. Back then, I believed him. Back then, I wanted it.
Lately, however, he has always been away—traveling, working, and ensuring everything he built remained under his control. His absence stretched wider each year, leaving only traces of the man I used to look up to. I could hear his voice echoing in my head, repeating my grandfather's words:
"Don't rely on anyone. If you want something done right, do it yourself."
I used to admire that about him. Now? Now, I wasn't so sure.
I admit I was struggling with my life at the farm.
Five days in, and I was already messing up. I was three times late.
Farming involved waking up early, discipline, physical labor, and routine. I had spent years moving through life at my own pace, never having to work for anything. I thought I could handle this; I thought I could adapt.
I was wrong.
I knew Nina wasn't happy with my performance, but she hadn't fired me yet. Maybe she pitied me. Perhaps she believed I just needed time. Either way, I wasn't making a good impression.
"You better sleep early, Ethan," Nina warned after calling me into her office. Her arms were crossed, her dark eyes sharp with disapproval. "I don't want others thinking I'm playing favorites. If you're late again tomorrow, I have no choice but to fire you."
She let the words sink in before adding, "Or—you'll be stuck in the stables for another week."
I barely held back a groan.
The stables.
I had already spent hours there—brushing horses, carrying hay, scrubbing down the stalls. It was backbreaking work and the smell? I was convinced it had permanently attached itself to my skin.
I sighed. "I promise, Nina, I won't be late tomorrow. I think my alarm clock is broken."
She rolled her eyes. "Use your phone. Or I'll get you a new one. You're not at home anymore, Ethan. You can't sleep in like you're used to."
She was right, but that didn't mean I liked hearing it.
I forced a nod, but deep down, I wasn't sure if I'd manage to wake up on time.
Jonathan had already shaken me awake three times this week, and even that hadn't been enough. My body wasn't used to this schedule—rising before the sun and working from morning until dusk.
And worst of all? I hated knowing that my father had been right.
Money had always flowed easily in my hands, and work had always been something other people did. Now, for the first time, I was experiencing how difficult it was to earn a living.
The lesson stung more than I cared to admit.
And tomorrow, I'd have to prove—to Nina, Vince, myself—that I wasn't just some spoiled rich kid playing farmhand.
I had to.
Because no way in hell was I spending another week cleaning horse stalls.
Later that night, Jonathan tossed a folded piece of paper onto my bed with a smug grin.
"It's from Nicole," he said, crossing his arms like he was enjoying the moment.
I raised an eyebrow, picking it up. The paper was slightly crumpled, like she'd been fidgeting with it before passing it along.
"A love letter?" I mused, unfolding it. "People still do that?"
Jonathan chuckled, flopping down on his bed. "Maybe she thinks you're old-fashioned."
I scanned the note, my eyes narrowing at the words scrawled in neat handwriting:
"Meet me at the hills at 5:30 tomorrow."
Without a second thought, I scoffed and tore the paper in half. The pieces fluttered into the trash beside my desk.
Jonathan watched me with raised brows. "She likes you."
I shook my head. "Not interested."
"You sure?" He smirked. "A lot of girls are flirting with you."
"That's exactly why I'm not interested." I leaned back against the wall, exhaling. "I didn't come here for distractions. I came to work. And honestly? I have a hard enough time just waking up in the morning. I don't need to add girl problems to the mix."
Jonathan burst into laughter. "Well, if it helps, I'll drag you out of bed myself next time."
I shot him a dry look. "Great. Can't wait."
He just grinned, but as I stared at the pieces of Nicole's note in the trash, I had a sinking feeling this wouldn't be the last time she—or the other girls—tried to get my attention.
I ran into Nicole again the next night—this time in the kitchen.
I had only come in for a glass of water, but the moment she saw me, she abandoned her conversation with her friends and stepped into my path.
"Don't go to your room yet, Ethan," she said smoothly, crossing her arms.
I sighed, already exhausted. "Nicole, I'm tired."
"Just hear me out," she pressed, a mischievous glint in her eye. The other girls behind her exchanged, knowing it looked like they were all in on something.
I narrowed my eyes. "What is it now?"
"It's about Meliza Lizondra," she said, her tone dramatic.
I frowned. "Who?"
The girls giggled like I had just asked something ridiculous.
"She's someone you should avoid," Nicole said, lowering her voice as if we were discussing a dark secret.
I folded my arms, unimpressed. "Never heard of her."
"Oh, you will," she countered. "And when you do, you'll understand why we're warning you."
I smirked, leaning slightly against the counter. "Let me guess. She's so beautiful that you think I'll fall for her?"
Dead silence.
Then, all of them nodded seriously.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "Please. I don't fall for random girls."
Nicole stepped closer, lowering her voice even more. "She's not just any girl, Ethan. She's dangerous."
I arched an eyebrow. "Dangerous, how?"
Crystal, one of the other girls, leaned in dramatically. "She uses a love potion."
That did it. I burst out laughing.
"Wow," I said between chuckles. "You're kidding, right?"
They weren't laughing.
"Meliza's a manipulator," Nicole insisted. "She plays with guys' hearts and makes them do crazy things for her. She uses people."
I tilted my head. "So, what, she's some kind of witch?"
A few of them nodded hesitantly.
I let out a sharp exhale, trying to keep a straight face. "You do realize how insane that sounds, right?"
Nicole stepped even closer, her expression completely serious. "She's done it before, Ethan. Guys fall for her. They change. They do stupid things for her. And when she's done with them, she disappears—like they never mattered."
There was something eerie about the way she said it.
I wasn't buying into their witchcraft theory, but manipulation? That, I believed.
"Okay, let's say I believe you," I said, crossing my arms. "Why are you telling me this?"
Nicole's lips curled into a slow smile. "Because we like you, Ethan. And we don't want you wasting your time on someone like her."
Crystal leaned in, batting her lashes. "You should be spending time with girls like us. We're fun. And single."
"Same here," another girl chimed in, winking.
The rest of them giggled, clearly enjoying themselves.
I forced a polite smile. "Thanks for the warning, ladies, but for now? Let's just be friends, alright?"
Nicole tilted her head as if considering it. "Of course. Friends. But we're only looking out for you, Ethan."
"Right," I muttered. "Appreciate it," I muttered as I slipped past them, making my way back to my room, but even as I shut the door behind me, my thoughts were spinning.
Meliza Lizondra.
I had never heard her name before tonight, but how the girls spoke about her made me curious.
Was she really some manipulative heartbreaker? A social climber? A gold digger?
Or were they just jealous? I had met enough girls like Nicole to know how dangerous they could be.
Either way, one thing was sure—this Meliza girl had caught my attention, and I hadn't even met her yet.
And when I did? I'd make sure she learned a lesson. Boys weren't toys she could play with. And if she was as dangerous as they said?
Well. I was more than ready for the challenge.