CHAPTER 1: THE SWAN’S DEATH AND THE DUCK’S AWAKENING

Evelyn Sterling didn’t die in a penthouse suite. She died holding a glass of 1959 Champagne as her Gulfstream G650 plummeted into the Rocky Mountains. The last thing she remembered was the deafening explosion and the third-quarter financial report she hadn’t signed yet.

Evelyn opened her eyes.

No heaven, no hell. Just the overwhelming, pungent smell of cow manure that made her choke.

“Get up. Stop playing dead.”

A deep, cold, and utterly detached voice rang out. Evelyn frowned, a bone-jarring headache splitting her skull. She tried to sit up, but this body was heavy, bruised, and aching in a deeply unfamiliar way. She looked down.

Where were the $500 artisan manicures? Instead, she saw rough, chapped hands, short, chipped nails stained with black earth. And what was this? A faded, oversized flannel shirt?

Evelyn looked up. Standing over her was a man. Tall and broad like a North American grizzly bear, dressed in mud-caked jeans and a worn Stetson hat. His face was chiseled, movie-star handsome, but his intense blue eyes held nothing but raw contempt.

“Sarah, I don’t have time for your pity stunts,” the man tossed a bucket of cold water – literally – onto the decaying wooden floor right next to her feet. “Feed the hogs, then get out of my sight. Don’t let me catch you idling around the barn.”

He turned and walked away, the sound of his heavy boots on the floorboards sounding like hammer blows on a coffin lid.

Evelyn was stunned. Sarah? Hogs?

She staggered to her feet, searching for a mirror. In the cracked glass hanging on the wooden wall, a strange face stared back. Young, maybe only 22, but with dull, vacant eyes, tangled hair, and a bruised cheekbone—the evidence of a fall or accident.

The memories of this body’s previous owner flooded her mind like a broken dam.

Her name was Sarah Miller. An orphaned, poor girl who had used a “cheap trick”—getting Colton drunk and lying about a pregnancy—to force the ranch owner into marriage. Colton, a man of fierce honor, took responsibility, but the price was two years of pure, undiluted emotional neglect. Sarah had lived as a shadow, working herself to the bone for a single glance of affection, only to receive silence.

And yesterday, Sarah had fallen from the hayloft while trying to fix a leaky roof. She had died.

“Well, this is fascinating,” Evelyn smirked, a sharp, calculating smile that had never graced the timid Sarah’s face. “From the $10-billion CEO of Sterling Corp, I’m now a hog-feeding housewife in rural Montana.”

She looked out the window at the endless, rolling hills. Evelyn Sterling never accepted a losing position. If fate forced her to invest in this battered shell of a body, she would turn it into a blue-chip stock.

But first, she desperately needed a shower.

CHAPTER 2: THE RECKONING AT THE DINNER TABLE

Colton drove his beat-up old Ford pickup home just as dusk settled. He tiredly rubbed his temples. The bank had sent a final notice of foreclosure. The winter had been harsh, his cattle were sick, and beef prices had plummeted. He was about to lose his father’s ranch.

And then there was Sarah. The perpetual burden he was honor-bound to carry.

He walked into the kitchen, bracing himself for the usual sight: cold dinner, a messy house, and Sarah huddled in a corner, crying and begging him not to leave her.

But no.

There was a smell. Not of burnt grease, but of pan-seared ribeye steak seasoned with rosemary and garlic.

Colton stopped short. The kitchen was spotless. The piles of dirty laundry were gone. On the old oak dining table, a plate was set as if in a five-star restaurant, complete with a cheap but properly poured glass of wine.

And Sarah was sitting there.

She had chopped off her long, scraggly hair into a sharp, shoulder-length bob. She wore one of his clean white button-down shirts—something she’d never dared touch before—sleeves neatly rolled up, cinched at the waist with a simple leather belt, revealing a figure that was usually hidden under oversized clothes.

The biggest change was her eyes. Gone was the pleading, desperate look. Her eyes were now calm, cold, and calculating.

“You’re fifteen minutes late according to the usual schedule,” she said, her voice steady and articulate, not looking up from a tattered newspaper.

“What the hell did you do to your hair?” Colton frowned, feeling an invisible threat.

“Long hair is inefficient and hinders productivity,” Evelyn (in Sarah’s body) replied curtly, pushing the plate toward him. “Sit down and eat. We need a meeting.”

“A meeting?” Colton scoffed, pulling out a chair. “Where did you pick up that word? From some trashy magazine?”

Evelyn put the newspaper down, locking eyes with him. The sheer force of her gaze made Colton involuntarily pause. It was the look of a superior, of a person used to commanding thousands of employees.

“I went over the ranch’s ledger in your office,” she said, ignoring his sarcasm. “The financial situation is worse than the pigpen I cleaned this morning. Negative cash flow, short-term debt due in 30 days, and you’re stubbornly keeping non-profitable breeding stock.”

Colton slammed his hand on the table and stood up, his face crimson. “Who gave you permission to touch my papers? What do you know about ranching that you think you can lecture me?”

Evelyn calmly cut a piece of steak, bringing it to her mouth. A bit tough, but adequately seasoned.

“I know nothing about ranching,” she admitted. “But I know business. You are selling to the local slaughterhouse at a price 20% below market rate. Why don’t you cut out the middleman and contact organic restaurant chains in Denver directly?”

“You think I haven’t tried? They don’t deal with small, failing outfits!”

“That’s because you’re approaching them the wrong way. You are selling beef. They buy ‘story.’ They need a family-owned, sustainable, ethical ranch narrative to market to their wealthy clientele.” Evelyn stood up, walked to the fridge, and pulled out a neatly handwritten file.

“This is a draft of the debt restructuring plan and a new marketing strategy for Miller Ranch. I outlined it this afternoon.”

She dropped the file onto the table.

“In exchange, I have one condition.”

Colton stared at the file, then at his wife, as if she were an alien. “What condition?”

“Within 3 months, I will help you pay off all bank debts. After that, we divorce. I want $50,000 cash and your old pickup truck to leave.”

The room fell into a deathly silence.

Colton had never expected to hear the word “divorce” from Sarah’s mouth. She loved him to the point of madness, clung to him like a desperate leech, didn’t she?

“Are you playing hard to get?” He narrowed his eyes.

Evelyn leaned closer, right next to his ear, the faint scent of herbs from her hair causing his heart to skip a beat.

“Colton, look closely at me. I am no longer the girl who cried because you didn’t come home for dinner. This is a transaction. Take it or leave it.”

CHAPTER 3: THE MAKEOVER AND THE MAGNETIC PULL

Over the next month, Miller Ranch underwent a radical transformation.

Colton watched his “wife” with a mix of astonishment and confusion. She no longer did heavy labor in the fields. Instead, she turned the living room into an office. She was constantly on the phone, her voice sharp, her English impeccable, ruthlessly negotiating with seasoned buyers.

She created a website. She took pictures of the cattle, telling a story about the Miller family’s three-generation heritage. She even livestreamed the ranch’s sunset, drawing tens of thousands of views.

Orders began pouring in. Beef prices doubled.

But what confused Colton the most wasn’t the money. It was her attitude.

She no longer looked at him with adoration. She treated him like a business partner. Cold, professional. In the evenings, she read economics textbooks instead of knitting. She slept separately on the couch in the living room.

One afternoon, the combine harvester broke down in the middle of the field. Colton was covered in grease, swearing furiously, when Evelyn drove up in the ATV. She wore tight jeans, a dust-caked white tank top, and sunglasses.

“Move,” she said, taking the wrench from his hand.

“You know how to fix this?”

“I was a mechanical engineer before I got my MBA… uh, I mean, I read the manual,” Evelyn stammered, but her hands expertly twisted bolts and adjusted the hydraulic system with practiced ease.

Sweat trailed down her neck, soaking her shirt. Colton stood mesmerized. For the first time in two years, he found his wife… deadly attractive. A beauty born of intellect and strength.

“Done,” Evelyn wiped her hands on a rag, turned back, and caught Colton’s burning gaze.

“Th-thanks,” he mumbled.

“Don’t forget the agreement. Two months left,” she reminded him, got into the ATV, and sped away, leaving Colton standing in the middle of the cornfield with a wildly beating heart.

He started looking for excuses to talk to her. He bought flowers for the living room—something he used to find cheesy. He tried to come home early. But Evelyn always maintained her distance.

“Sarah,” Colton stopped her one night by the kitchen door. “Can we talk? About… us?”

“There is no ‘us,’ Colton,” Evelyn glanced at the clock. “The expiry date on this marriage contract is 45 days away.”

“Why did you change so much? I’m sorry I was cruel to you before. I… I thought you lied about the baby, so I…”

Evelyn let out a bitter laugh. “Colton, you really are an idiot. The original Sarah genuinely miscarried from overworking in the fields, the first week after the wedding. She never told you because she was afraid you’d think she was weak. You were never scammed. You were just too blinded by prejudice.”

Colton froze, the guilt settling like a boulder in his chest.

CHAPTER 4: THE TWIST AND THE DEPARTURE

Day 89.

Evelyn had accomplished her goal. The bank debt was paid off. The ranch’s account had a healthy surplus.

She was packing her few belongings—just a couple of outfits—when she noticed an envelope from New York on Colton’s desk. The logo was sickeningly familiar: Sterling Corp.

Curiosity overriding caution, she opened it. It was a legal document.

“Final notice of land acquisition. Sterling Corp’s mineral extraction project is scheduled to proceed with the forced seizure of Miller Ranch next month…”

Evelyn froze, her hands trembling.

It turned out the reason Colton was drowning in debt, the reason he was so desperate, was because her own company—Evelyn Sterling—had used every underhanded tactic to depress his beef prices and block his exit routes to force him to sell the land cheap.

She was the culprit. She was the villain in her husband’s story.

Her very own signature—Evelyn Sterling—was stamped approving this project three months ago, right before she died.

“The irony,” Evelyn whispered, tears welling up. She had come to love this land. And she had started to… care for this abrasive but genuine cowboy.

But she couldn’t stay. If Colton knew who she (this soul) really was, he would despise her. Or perhaps, Sarah didn’t deserve to bear the consequences of Evelyn’s sins.

Evelyn sat down and wrote a letter. She left the bank card containing the $50,000 fee, along with a USB drive. The USB contained all the evidence of tax fraud and environmental violations within Sterling Corp—secrets only a CEO would know.

She placed the signed divorce papers on the table.

That night, while Colton slept soundly, dreaming of a happy future with the “new Sarah,” Evelyn quietly took her bag, started the old pickup, and drove into the darkness.

CHAPTER 5: THE LATE HEARTBREAK

The next morning, Colton woke up with a smile. He planned to propose to his wife again. He had bought a ring.

But the house was empty.

He found the letter and the USB drive.

“Colton,

I am not the woman you hated, nor am I entirely the woman you were starting to love. The truth is complicated. Inside this USB is the weapon to protect your ranch against Sterling Corp. Use it to sue them. They will owe you millions.

Don’t look for me. I’m giving you back your freedom. Sarah.”

Colton frantically rushed outside. The old pickup was gone.

He plugged the USB into his computer. Classified documents appeared. He didn’t care about the money. He only cared that she had done all this to save him, to save his family, while he had treated her like dirt.

“Sarah!” Colton screamed into the vast, empty Montana field, his voice tearing the sky.

He hired detectives. He searched the entire state. But no one found her. She had vanished from the world.

CHAPTER 6: THE REUNION (2 YEARS LATER)

New York.

Colton Miller stepped out of the limousine. He was no longer the struggling farmer. The lawsuit against Sterling Corp had made him a millionaire, and with the strategy his “wife” left behind, he had built the ranch into a sustainable food empire.

But he was still alone. He still wore the cheap wedding ring from two years ago.

Today, he was here to meet the new CEO of Sterling Corp—the one who had replaced the deceased Evelyn Sterling—to negotiate a stake acquisition.

Stepping into the glass-walled conference room on the 80th floor, Colton froze.

Sitting in the chairman’s seat was not an old man. It was a woman with a sharp bob haircut, a perfectly tailored Armani suit, and an intimidatingly cold demeanor.

She turned her chair around.

That face. Though expertly made-up, though the eyes were a hundred times colder… Colton recognized it.

It wasn’t Sarah. Sarah had legally died two years ago in a staged car accident.

This woman looked remarkably like Sarah, but her aura was…

“Welcome, Mr. Miller,” the woman offered a practiced, industrial smile. “I’m Eve. The newly appointed Senior Advisor. Pleased to meet the partner who defeated us in court.”

Colton slowly walked toward her, ignoring the stunned looks of the other directors. He leaned his hands on her desk, staring deep into her eyes. The eyes that had once looked at him with defiance in a decaying kitchen in Montana.

“You can fool the whole world, you can change your name, change your identity,” Colton’s voice was hoarse, trembling. “But you can’t fool me. You owe me an explanation for the $50,000 and the pickup truck you never returned.”

Evelyn (now living under the new identity of Eve—a distant relative of Sarah that she had created) tried to maintain composure, but her fingers tightened around the fountain pen.

“Mr. Miller, I think you have me mistaken…”

“I don’t,” Colton interrupted, his eyes bloodshot. “I fell in love with a country girl who knew how to fix a combine harvester and cook the best steak on earth. And I lost her once. I’d rather burn this entire building down than lose her again.”

He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his inner jacket pocket—the divorce papers he had never signed. He tore it to shreds in front of her.

“Let’s go home,” he said, his voice softening, full of desperate pleading. “The hogs are hungry. And I’m hungry, too.”

Evelyn looked at the scattered pieces of paper. The icy shell of the “Wall Street Iron Lady” cracked. She remembered the smell of hay. She remembered the peace. And damn it, she missed this idiot cowboy.

She stood up, slipped off her expensive heels, and walked barefoot on the carpet.

“I’m not cleaning the pigpen this time,” she smirked, the first genuine smile she’d worn in two years.

Colton laughed, pulling her into his arms, holding her tightly as if to engrave her into his very being.

“I’ll hire people for that. You just need to be the boss.”

[THE END]