The gilded cage of Adriel's life had finally snapped shut. Her parents, a formidable duo of wealth and exasperation, had delivered their verdict: six weeks on the Gray family farm. It was a punishment, a stark exile from her designer clothes, bustling city streets, and the carefree indulgence that had become her natural habitat.

“Throwing me to a farm with people I barely know is for my best?” Adriel had protested, her voice rising in disbelief. Her father, Thomas, merely massaged the bridge of his nose, while her mother, Catalina, invoked the dreaded full name: Adriella Celeste Summers.

Now, as the small plane touched down, Adriel peered out the window at a landscape utterly alien. Green fields stretched endlessly, punctuated by the slow amble of cows and the occasional elderly figure on a bicycle. The city's towering buildings and ceaseless hum were replaced by a quiet, almost unsettling, stillness. A sigh of frustration escaped her lips. No one was there to meet her. Her phone, of course, had no signal.

With a huff, she grabbed her absurdly numerous bags and began to walk, a vision of high fashion adrift in a sea of rural simplicity. Then, with a jarring thud, she collided with something—or someone—solid. "Hey!" she snapped, looking up to see a tall, broad-shouldered man, his face obscured by a cowboy hat, save for the firm line of his jaw and a hint of a sharp, attractive mouth.