Revan Caldwell did not like being forced to choose.
But that morning, his horse had already chosen for him.
Phantom stood by Alesya’s side as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Calm.
Obedient.
Even too calm for a stallion who, for the past eight months, had treated everyone like a threat.
Everyone.
Except that foreign woman.
Revan stared at the scene a few seconds longer than he should have.
Then he looked at Alesya again.
The woman still held herself upright.
She didn’t look impressed.
She didn’t look afraid.
And that… was irritating.
“Marcus.”
The head groom straightened his body immediately.
“Prepare the office.”
Alesya raised an eyebrow.
“Is that an invitation?”
“It’s the only one you’ll get today.”
That answer should have been enough to silence any sane person.
But Alesya just patted Phantom’s neck one more time.
Then she looked Revan straight in the eye.
“If you talk to everyone like that, I’m starting to understand why your horse prefers silence.”
Declan had once said the only person who could talk to Revan like that and stay alive hadn’t been born yet.
Turns out, Declan was wrong.
Revan turned away first.
If he stayed there any longer, he might do one of two things.
Kick the woman off his property.
Or kiss her to make her stop talking.
And both were bad ideas.
Revan’s office was on the east side of the main house.
Cold.
Too tidy.
Made of black lines, glass, steel, and dark wood.
No family photos.
No sentimental objects.
Only one miniature horse statue in the corner of a shelf.
And a stack of files more suited for a boardroom than a ranch.
Alesya entered without hesitation.
She was not intimidated.
That was the second thing Revan hated about her.
The first was the fact that Phantom had just clung to her like a lost puppy.
The contract was waiting on the desk.
Thick.
Neat.
Prepared by the Caldwell legal team last night, even before Alesya arrived.
Revan stood by the side of the desk.
“I don’t like wasting time.”
“Good.”
Alesya pulled out a chair for herself.
“Neither do I.”
She sat down.
Opened the first page.
And began to read.
Really read.
Not pretending to look.
Not signing immediately like most people who came to his house swallowing awe and fear.
She read every line.
Every clause.
Every footnote.
Revan crossed his arms over his chest.
Waited thirty seconds.
Then a minute.
“Do you always read contracts that thick this early in the morning?”
Alesya didn’t lift her head.
“Do you always insert unreasonable clauses on the third page?”
Revan stared at her.
Alesya turned another page.
Then she picked up the pen on the desk.
And crossed out a section.
Just like that.
Slowly.
Calmly.
Without asking for permission.
Revan gave a short laugh.
Not warm.
“You’re crossing out my contract.”
Alesya lifted her gaze.
“I’m removing the part that makes me sound like a technician you can order around at will.”
“You work for me.”
“For Phantom.”
The answer came too quickly.
Too firmly.
“And if you want him to recover, then we need to clarify one thing first.”
She tapped the clause she had just crossed out.
“No intervention in my treatment methods without my consent.”
Revan looked at the black ink mark.
Then at Alesya’s face.
“This is my property.”
“This is my patient.”
“Not yet.”
Alesya leaned forward slightly.
“Then don’t ask me to sign.”
Silence fell between them.
Not a comfortable silence.
Not an awkward silence either.
It was the kind of silence that appeared when two people both refused to back down.
Revan should have ended this.
Called another vet.
There were dozens of big names who would come with one phone call.
Maybe even with one bank transfer.
But none of them had just made Phantom stop trembling with a single touch.
Alesya turned another page.
“This too.”
The pen moved again.
“And this.”
One line.
“And this.”
A third line.
Revan watched her hand movements.
The same hand that had touched Phantom’s neck as if the horse weren’t a half-ton creature.
A small hand.
But certain.
Infuriating.
“What else is wrong now?”
“The part that says I have to report all progress through your operations manager.”
Alesya put down the pen.
“I report directly to you.”
Revan raised an eyebrow.
“Very confident.”
“Efficient.”
She closed half the contract and looked him straight in the eye.
“If you want me to handle Phantom, I need twenty-four-hour access.”
“There is night staff.”
“I don’t care.”
“There is a security system.”
“I still need access.”
“And?”
Alesya raised one finger.
“No one touches his training schedule without my knowledge.”
A second finger.
“No sedation, no feed changes, and no unilateral heroic attempts by the owner.”
Revan almost smiled.
“Heroic attempts.”
“You know what I mean.”
She glanced at his left shoulder for a split second.
Just a split second.
But Revan caught it.
Of course he caught it.
That gaze was too intelligent.
Too clinical.
And too personal.
His phone vibrated on the desk.
The name on the screen lit up.
Victoria.
Alesya’s eyes dropped to it.
For only one second.
But Revan saw it.
He answered the phone.
“Yes.”
The voice on the other end was too sweet.
Too practiced.
Victoria always spoke as if she knew every room was listening to her.
“I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t forgotten lunch with my father today.”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“Good.
My father wants to discuss the announcement.”
Revan’s hand tensed slightly.
“Discuss it later.”
“I’ll come to the ranch this afternoon.
We can…”
“Don’t.”
A brief silence.
Then Victoria laughed softly.
A laugh that never truly meant she was amused.
“Revan.”
Her tone dropped a level.
“I hope you aren’t making things more complicated than they need to be.”
Revan hung up before she finished.
As he put the phone down, Alesya was already looking at the contract again.
As if she didn’t care.
As if the name of another woman on the screen of the man who had kissed her last night… no.
Not last night.
Who had kissed her yesterday?
Not quite.
Who had pulled her to his chest this morning..
Damn.
He was paying too much attention.
“Your fiancée sounds sweet,” Alesya said flatly.
Revan looked at her.
“You aren’t paid to judge my personal life.”
“I’m also not paid to pretend to be blind.”
She turned the last page.
“Especially regarding things that could affect my patient.”
“Phantom is not a topic for Victoria.”
“No?”
Alesya closed the contract.
“This morning I saw her name make your jaw stiffer than when Phantom refused the jump.”
This time, Revan truly smiled.
Thin.
Not warm.
But enough to show that he wasn’t used to being laid bare like this.
“You observe too much.”
“It’s my job.”
“Sometimes people who observe too much don’t last long in places like this.”
Alesya leaned back in her chair.
“If that’s a threat, it’s too lazy.”
Revan gave a short laugh.
Then, before he could think about why that sound felt too real in this room, Alesya pushed the contract toward him.
“Add one more thing.”
“What.”
“I’m not staying in the main house.”
Revan looked at her.
“I didn’t offer you the main house.”
“Good.”
“There’s a cottage on the west side of the property.”
“I want to be able to lock the door from the inside.”
“Always possible.”
“I want no one entering without permission.”
“No one will enter.”
Alesya stared at him for a long time.
“Including you.”
That made something move in Revan’s chest.
Not anger.
Not surprise.
Something lower.
He lowered his gaze to Alesya’s mouth for a moment.
Then back to her eyes.
“If I want to enter, I won’t use the door.”
Alesya didn’t blush.
Didn’t get nervous.
She just said,
“Good.
That means I’ll have enough time to get a shovel.”
Damn.
This woman.
Revan picked up the pen.
He signed the last page.
Not casually.
With enough pressure to nearly tear the paper.
Then he pushed it back.
“Now sign.”
Alesya took the contract.
She didn’t sign immediately.
She reread the parts Revan had quickly crossed out and changed in the last few minutes.
Then, finally, she wrote her name.
Alesya Vargas.
Handwriting that was firm.
Very much like its owner.
As she pushed the contract back, their fingers brushed.
Just briefly.
But enough.
Skin to skin.
Warm.
And too disturbing.
Alesya pulled her hand away first.
“Now,” she said, “I want to see Phantom’s entire medical file.”
“You’ll get it.”
“Not the version cleaned up by PR.”
Revan looked at her expressionlessly.
“The original version.”
She rose from her chair.
“If you’re hiding anything, I’ll know.
Horses rarely lie.
Humans are usually the problem.”
She stepped to the side of the desk.
Very close.
Alesya’s eyes dropped briefly to his left arm.
To his left shoulder.
Then rose again.
“Your left shoulder.”
Revan immediately straightened his posture.
Too quickly.
A reflex.
“None of your business.”
“If Phantom senses your discomfort every time he approaches an obstacle, it becomes my business.”
The atmosphere in the room changed.
Slightly.
But clearly enough.
Revan stepped closer.
“Are you always this tough on the first day?”
“Are you always this indifferent to a body part that clearly hasn’t healed?”
He had no quick answer for that.
And he hated that fact.
The desk phone vibrated again.
Not Victoria this time.
A message from Harrison.
Meeting moved up.
Ashworth arriving early.
Be ready.
Revan read it once.
Then put the phone down.
“There’s a change.”
Alesya crossed her arms over her chest.
“Which part of your life isn’t full of changes today?”
“You’re moving to the cottage this afternoon.”
“That’s too fast.”
“It’s necessary.”
“It’s not in the contract.”
“It is now.”
Alesya stared at him sharply.
“Is that how you work?”
“It’s how I ensure Phantom doesn’t fall apart because his vet has to drive forty minutes every dawn.”
He took one step closer.
Revan’s voice dropped.
“And it’s how I ensure you’re where I need you when I need you.”
The sentence came out more possessive than he intended.
Alesya caught it immediately.
Her gaze hardened.
“I’m not a tool.”
“I know.”
“Really?”
Revan opened his mouth.
Then closed it again.
Because damn it, he wasn’t sure which answer would sound honest.
A knock on the door cut them off.
Marcus entered without waiting for full permission.
His manner remained polite.
But his face was not calm.
“Sorry to interrupt.”
Revan turned.
“What is it?”
Marcus glanced quickly at Alesya.
Then back to Revan.
“Phantom is refusing to go into his stall.”
Revan frowned.
“He always goes in if Javi handles him.”
“Not this time.”
Marcus took a breath.
“He keeps circling in the small paddock.
Not aggressive.
Just… won’t go in.”
Revan stared at him for a few seconds.
Then stood straighter.
“Take him to the east barn.”
“Already tried.”
“And?”
Marcus glanced briefly at Alesya again.
The answer came before he spoke.
Revan already knew.
Still, he wanted to hear it.
Marcus said softly,
“He was calm earlier when Dr.
Vargas was still in the arena.”
Silence.
“What do you mean?”
Marcus chose his words carefully.
“As soon as he was taken away from Miss Vargas, he started getting restless again.”
Alesya looked at Marcus.
Then at Revan.
Her face showed no victory.
No satisfaction either.
Only caution.
And for some reason, that made Revan even more restless.
Marcus continued,
“If I may be honest, boss…”
He stopped.
Then decided to speak anyway.
“It seems he won’t settle if he doesn’t know where his new vet is.”
Revan exhaled a long breath through his nose.
Alesya broke the silence first.
“Then I’ll go to the barn.”
Revan looked at her.
“I’m not done talking.”
Alesya had already picked up the signed contract.
“Phantom isn’t done panicking either.”
She walked to the door.
Then stopped briefly.
Turned halfway.
Her gaze went straight to Revan.
“If you still want me to stay in that cottage, send the key to the barn.”
“And, Revan?”
He rarely heard his name spoken without a title.
Even more rarely from lips that felt too easy to remember.
“I’m not staying here because of your orders.”
Her gaze dropped slightly.
Then returned to Revan’s eyes.
“I’m staying because your horse chose me.”
Then she left.
Just like that.
The door closed.
The room was silent again.
Marcus was still standing there.
Revan didn’t move for a few seconds.
Then he gave a short laugh.
Not because it was funny.
Because the situation was so chaotic it was almost absurd.
His horse had chosen a foreign vet.
That foreign vet had crossed out his contract.
Criticized his shoulder.
Rejected his tone.