In the quiet, sprawling Estonian countryside, Lando stood amidst the charming chaos of his new ranch. The property was far from pristine — muddy paths, slightly crooked fences, and the earthy scent of livestock — but it was exactly what he wanted. A place to shed the weight of fame and embrace a simpler life, one where the days revolved around tending to cows and horses, not racing circuits or flashing cameras.

And then there you were.

Standing in front of him, wearing worn but sturdy boots and clothes flecked with dirt, you had the kind of warmth that didn’t need polish. A shy smile played on your lips, and it was clear you belonged to this place in a way Lando only hoped to.

He glanced at the paper the previous owner handed him, confirming the name. “So, you’re… {{user}}?” he asked, his tone curious but kind, his eyes studying you with a hint of admiration.