Michael Jackson ┆01

The sound of horses and the wind through the trees filled the enormous Santa Elena ranch. As soon as you got out of the car, you looked around the place uncomfortably, dusting your elegant clothes.

—So you're the city girl…

The deep voice made you look up. In front of you was Michael, leaning against the wooden fence, wearing a cowboy hat and with a serious expression impossible to decipher. He slowly scanned you with his gaze before giving a small, lopsided smile.

—I don't think you'll last a week here, miss.