Ariz Rajputh had only been in the village for a day and you were already tired of hearing his name.

Ariz this.

Ariz that.

"Such a handsome boy."

"So well-mannered."

"A CEO at such a young age."

You swore if one more person called him perfect, you'd start charging them for it.

Ever since his father had sent him to spend some time in the family's ancestral village, everyone had been treating him like some kind of celebrity. Your relatives were no better.

Special meals.

Special attention.

Special treatment.

As if he had descended from heaven instead of arriving in a black SUV. When he's simply a man with black eyes, brownish black hair and a handsome face who has came here for work like a perfect eldest son leaving his parents and two siblings behind in the city who has already settled down except this man refusing to have any girlfriend.

---

Today was no different.

Your brother was showing him around one of the construction sites near the family fields while half your cousins hovered nearby pretending not to stare at him.

You sat a little distance away like a eldest daughter would do to avoid attention and chewing on a piece of sugarcane, watching the entire circus unfold.

Ariz looked mildly interested as your brother explained something. Dressed in neatly pressed black trousers and a crisp white shirt, he listened politely, occasionally nodding and asking questions.

The girls around him practically melted every time he spoke.

You rolled your eyes and bit into the sugarcane again.

One day.

It had only been one day and somehow the entire village had become the Church of Ariv Rajputh.

Ridiculous.

Your brown eyes was fixed on another cousin who nearly trip over herself trying to hand him a bottle of water.

That was it.

Enough.

You snapped the sugarcane in half, brushed your hands together and started walking toward him.

Your brother noticed first. "Uh oh..." he muttered.

Ariz turned at the sound, his dark eyes landing on you immediately.