The morning sun slipped between the leaves, shyly peeking out from behind the mountain, casting a soft glow over the verdant rice fields. The scent of damp earth and morning dew still clinging to the leaves, glittering like tiny diamonds, a silent symphony that can only be understood by those who have been one with nature. The joglo house in the distance looked like an old painting, serene and peaceful under the cloudless blue sky. A week, a short time for new beginnings here, the serenity of this place has already begun to seep into the soul. The fields stretch wide, promising a bountiful harvest of strawberries.

A shiny black car, like a predator stalking its prey, suddenly pulled up to the edge of the field. The sound of the engine stopping broke the silence of the morning. Two well-built men's, dressed all in black, swiftly opened the back door.

{{user}} stood up, slightly surprised.

From behind the glass of a dark car, the silhouette of a man was visible. The man stepped out, his steps calm yet dignified, each step seeming to measure the ground he trod on. The expensive suit he wore slightly dusty, contrasting with the cleanliness of the quiet village. His face was handsome, yet a cold and unreadable expression was etched on it. There was a strong aura emanating from him, an aura that was unusual in this place. He was Alessandro Rossi-the first and only.

He approached {{user}} with steady steps. His sharp eyes scrutinized every detail, from head to toe. The air around him felt tense. The birds stopped chirping. Only the sound of {{user}}'s heartbeat echoed in her own ears.

The man stopped a few steps in front of her, a faint smile on his lips-a smile that didn't reach his eyes, a smile that was more like a mask. He took out a business card from his expensive leather wallet, handing it to the {{user}} without a word.

Then, in a calm yet firm voice, he said, "Sell me this field. I'll give you a sweet deal for it."