Chapter 4 - The Move

Savannah's pov

I had always imagined my wedding to be like a fairytale wedding, filled with love and happiness.

The wedding I had was the complete opposite. There were no joyful tears, no happy toasts, and certainly no romance. All through the brief wedding, I tried not to snap at a super cold Julian, who was hell bent on making my life miserable. The good thing was, I wasn’t going easy on him, either.

After the wedding, he was supposed to move in with us for one year like the contract stated but he seemed to get into a heated argument with his parents and stormed off during the reception, so I could only hope he would come back.

That evening, I was sitting on a chair by the front porch of the main house, wearing my comfortable clothes and sipping my juice, when I heard the sound of a car approaching.

I looked up to see a luxury SUV drive through our driveway and when the car stopped in front of the house, Julian, who we had been expecting for several hours now, came out.

He looked entirely ridiculous and out of his elements in my environment. He was wearing white sneakers and clad in a three piece suit that looked odd here. He took one look around and wrinkled his nose in disgust. He immediately started coughing as if he were inhaling toxic air.

“What an absolute nightmare,” Julian muttered in a low tone, but I heard him just fine.

He walked to the back of the vehicle, popped the trunk, and began pulling out his luggage, making my jaw nearly drop. He had not brought standard travel bags. Instead, he hauled out heavy, oversized industrial cases filled with dual monitors, computer towers, stacks of reference files, and technical gear. He dropped the first heavy tech case straight onto the dirt and then paused, wiping his hands on his trousers, and looked up at the porch where I sat. He gave me a sharp, demanding nod, pointing toward the heavy equipment.

Knowing exactly what he was asking for, I smiled sweetly, leaned back in my chair, and picked up my glass of juice and still kept eye contact. I took a slow sip, completely ignoring his helpless state because I had no intention of helping him, even if he asked nicely.

When he realized I wasn't moving, his jaw tightened, and a scowl appeared on his face. “Are you just going to sit there and watch me, Savannah? A little help would be appreciated because these equipments are heavy.”

“The contract says we have to live together, Julian,” I called out, my tone dripping with amusement. “It doesn't say I have to be your porter. Welcome to the ranch, so grab your bags yourself.”

Julian hissed as his face flushed with annoyance. “You have got to be kidding me, a little help wouldn’t kill you.”

Seeing as I wasn't coming, he grabbed the handles of the first two massive suitcases and began to walk, but he was too angry to take note of the stone in his way, and he tripped, almost falling. When he caught himself, he puffed and panted with his chest heaving as he cussed me out, but I only hummed happily and continued sipping my juice. Julian looked like he wanted to cry, but his pride kept him pushing forward, cussing under his breath with every single step.

“Stupid, backward, dusty piece of hell,” he muttered, his face turning red as he finally hauled the first two bags up the wooden porch steps.

He didn't even have time to catch his breath before I tipped my hat to him. “Two more to go, husband. Don't leave them out there, the barn cats like to scratch on things they haven’t seen around here before.”

Julian glared at me like he was about to burst open or attack.

“I despise you,” he snapped, his voice filled with frustration.

“The feeling is entirely mutual,” I replied, flashing him a mocking smile. “Now hurry up, it's getting late.”

He stomped back down the steps, muttering a string of colorful insults, and it took him another ten agonizing minutes to drag the remaining luggage up to the porch. By the time he was finished, his white shoes were ruined by brown mud, his shirt was damp with sweat, and his hands were raw and red. He stood there, leaning against the railing with his chest heaving as he stared down at his ruined luxury items.

“Where is my workspace?” he demanded, running a frustrated hand through his disheveled hair. “I need to set up my stuff immediately.”

I stood up and walked over to the front door. “Follow me.”

I led him through the living room and down the long hallway of the house. I stopped at the very end of the corridor, pushing open a heavy door that led to a small, isolated bedroom. It was clean, but incredibly basic, consisting only of a simple twin-sized bed, a wooden dresser, and a single window that looked out toward the distant crop fields.

Julian stepped inside and looked around in disbelief. “This is a utility closet. Where am I supposed to set up my monitors? Where is the main workspace?”

“My parents live in the eastern wing, and this is your space,” I said flatly, leaning against the doorframe. “You wanted to stay out of my way, remember? This is as far away from my bedroom as you can get, so it’s all you’re getting.”

Julian let out a bitter laugh as he turned around to face me. “Is this some sort of joke? You really think you're clever, don't you? You think you can break me by giving me a small room and acting all nonchalant? I lived on my own for years so this is nothing.”

“We'll see about that,” I murmured, turning around to leave him to his misery.

But before I could take a single step down the hallway, the loud blare of the ranch’s emergency siren suddenly filled the air.

It wasn't the standard dinner horn. It was the continuous loud ring that only meant one thing, which is danger.

Instantly, my heart began to beat faster. I sprinted back toward the front porch, with Julian following closely behind out of confusion and fear. As I burst out onto the porch, I looked toward the northern section where our primary cattle pastures sat near the riverbend, and from there, I could hear the sounds of cattle.

What could be wrong? My parents were out so it means I’ll have to figure it out on my own.

“What is that?” Julian asked in a scared tone as his eyes settled on a rising smoke.

“The northern barn,” I said, as I prepared to head toward their direction. “That's where we keep the new breeding bulls.”

Before I could even take a step, we heard heavy footsteps and our eyes snapped toward the driveway, but the sight made my breath hitch.

A massive herd of panicked, terrified cattle was stampeding straight toward the main house, completely out of control and heading right for us.

“Oh shit.”