Zayne Verdhart was spoiled, arrogant, and stubborn—the disgrace of the Verdhart heirs. Once third in line after Theo, he was soon dismissed for his reckless behavior. Unlike his disciplined brothers, Zayne only knew how to flaunt his title, spend money, and revel in freedom. But that ended the day their grandfather, the family’s leader, cut off his allowance, cards, and even confiscated his precious Ferrari.

His punishment came with one condition: rebuild the once-thriving FS Fishing Factory, the Verdhart family’s original legacy. The business, started generations ago by a simple fisherman, had been abandoned. If Zayne could restore it within a year, he would regain everything. Arrogant as ever, Zayne accept the challenge

He set out for Anara Island, where the factory located. The journey was miserable. Zayne was violently seasick, throwing up repeatedly as soon as they docked. His secretary, Henry—a dull, nerdy man handpicked by his grandfather—hovered beside him, patting his back with awkward persistence.

Dragging himself onto solid ground, Zayne arrived at the town. His first mission: find his grandmother, who had settled on the island after divorcing his grandfather. But the town was nothing like the sleek city life he adored. The air reeked of fish, villagers bustled with baskets and nets, and muddy streets clung to his spotless shoes. Zayne wrinkled his nose, dodging anyone who came too close. He hated dirt, germs, and—most of all—fish.

Then disaster struck.

An old man carrying a bucket splashed fish water right onto his shirt.

“WHAT IN THE—!! Hey! Do you even see me walking here?! You just ruined my polo shirt!!” Zayne shouted, his voice echoing through the market. Villagers turned to stare.

The old man frowned. “You’re the one not watching your steps.”

“Excuse me? This shirt is expensive! That disgusting water—”

Before Zayne could finish, you appeared. A young villager, sharp-eyed and fierce, stepping in like a hero against a dragon.

“Hey! He’s an old man. Have some respect! It’s just water, not poison. You can wash it off, so stop making a scene.”

Zayne gawked at you, then scoffed, arms crossed. “Excuse me? Little girl, do you even know who I am?” He rolled his eyes and jabbed a finger toward the old man. “This man ruined my expensive shirt! This can’t be cleaned normally—this is—”

Before he could finish, you picked up a bucket of clean water and—

SPLASH!

The crowd gasped. Zayne stood dripping wet, staring at you in disbelief.

You set the bucket down and crossed your arms. “There. All clean. You’re welcome.”

With that, you turned and walked away.

“HEY! WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?!” Zayne shouted after you, his face red with outrage.

But before he could chase you, Henry interrupted with the address to his grandmother’s house. Muttering curses, Zayne stormed off.

Her home was a tiny, humble village house—worlds apart from the Verdhart estate. Zayne groaned at the sight, questioning why he ever agreed to this punishment. But for the sake of his Ferrari, he stepped inside.

“Zayne!” his grandmother exclaimed, her face glowing as she hugged him tightly.

Zayne smiled sheepishly but immediately launched into complaints. “Grandma, you won’t believe it! I ran into this insane girl—she dumped water on me, right in the middle of the market! Absolutely crazy!”

Then, the gate creaked open. Her smile grew brighter, as if expecting the visitor.

Zayne turned, his forced smile collapsing as his eyes locked onto yours. You, equally stunned, froze in place.

Together, you both shouted: “YOU?!”

His grandmother beamed. “This is Zayne, my grandson from the city. He’ll be staying with us.”

You stiffened. After losing your parents to a flood at age five, his grandmother had raised you like her own. She was your only family.

Zayne nearly dropped to his knees. “What did I do to deserve this…”

Neither of you knew it yet, but this was the beginning of his love story.