He Scorned Me, Now I’m a CEO He Can’t Afford Chapter 01

He Scorned Me, Now I’m a CEO He Can’t Afford Chapter 01

Lena stopped chasing him.

For three years, she had chased Wyatt, the heir to the neighboring Rattlesnake Ranch.

In the end, she had become the butt of every joke.

Now, she was done.

She threw out her collection of party dresses, trading them for T-shirts and jeans, and disappeared into the dusty records office of her family’s ranch.

Soil reports, financial statements—the very things Wyatt was sure she could never comprehend—became her daily companions.

Everyone on the ranch watched, waiting for the show. They all wanted to know what this “city girl” was up to now.

Until the evening she ran into Wyatt on the trail.

Lena’s first instinct was to turn and walk away.

But he was on horseback, and he blocked her path.

His tall frame loomed over her, and his voice held a sharp scrutiny she had never heard before.

“Lena, are you avoiding me?”

…

Avoiding him?

The words were a pinprick to her heart. She used to orbit him, desperate to wedge herself into his life. And now he was asking if she was avoiding him.

Yes, she was.

But she couldn’t admit it.

She had started chasing Wyatt when she was sixteen. At first, it was just a game whispered among the Texas girls: who could win over the most untouchable man on Rattlesnake Ranch?

What truly pulled her in was that summer.

She had gone out alone to check on a remote pasture when a skin-crawling rattle echoed near her feet. A western diamondback was coiled by the brush, its head raised.

Her throat seized. Her entire body froze.

Just then, a lasso sliced through the air with terrifying precision, landing perfectly over the snake’s head. The next second, Wyatt yanked the rope taut and flung the snake against the distant rocks.

He swung down from his horse and stepped in front of her, shielding her completely. The air filled with the scent of sweat, leather, and sun-baked earth.

“Are you insane, Lena?” His voice was hard. “Coming out here alone? This isn’t some party in Austin.”

It was the first time he had ever spoken to her like that.

Not with his usual bored dismissal.

He had been genuinely worried about her.

In that moment, Lena looked at his sun-darkened neck and the taut line of his jaw, and her heart hammered against her ribs.

From that day on, it was no longer a game.

She had well and truly fallen for him.

But three years later, what had she gotten?

The day before the cowboy festival, she’d been holding the gift she’d prepared, planning to surprise him at the party, only to overhear him talking with his friends behind the stables.

“Wyatt, you’ve got the patience of a saint,” one of his friends said with a laugh. “Lena follows you around all day. I’d have lost my mind by now.”

Wyatt laughed, the sound carrying clearly through the wooden planks.

“She’s not that bad.” He took a sip of beer, his tone lazy. “She’s a good shield. Keeps the other girls from getting any ideas. Besides, Clara likes having her around, so it saves me the trouble.”

His friend pressed, “So she’s just a tool to you?”

“A useful one,” Wyatt said flatly. “What else would she be?”

A tool.

So in his eyes, three years of devotion boiled down to that one word.

She stood in the shadow of the stables for a long time, the gift in her hands growing cold.

From that day on, she told herself she was done.

She was done with Wyatt.

“No.” Lena pulled herself from the memory, her gaze dropping to the dust on the toes of her boots. “My dad asked me to review the ranch’s financial reports.”

That quiet, evasive look was the best camouflage she had learned over the past three years.

Wyatt watched her, an unfamiliar irritation rising in him as she refused to meet his eyes. Before, her gaze had always been direct, brilliant. Now, that light was gone.

“Financial reports?” He gave a cold laugh, tapping the edge of his saddle with his riding crop. “You think you can understand those? Lena, you can’t tell alfalfa from fescue. What good are you with a spreadsheet?”

The words were blunt. Cruel.

Lena’s body went rigid. Her nails dug into her palm.

She never looked up.

Only after Wyatt had ridden off, kicking up a cloud of dust, did she slowly unclench her fist.

She opened the tablet in her arms.

A document was open on the screen.

*Sustainable Management Plan for Red Creek Ranch*

It was dense with data, charts, and professional terminology: rotational grazing model optimization, soil carbon storage analysis, precision feed conversion rates. At the bottom of the final page, a single line was highlighted in red.

*Projected to increase the ranch’s annual net profit by more than 30%.*

Everyone at Red Creek Ranch, including her father, thought she had spent the last few years doing nothing but attending parties in Austin.

No one knew she had used hungover mornings and late nights to complete Cornell University’s core agricultural management courses online.

She had already submitted this plan anonymously to the Texas Young Agriculturalist Competition.

She was going to win first prize.

And the two hundred thousand dollars in prize money would be her fresh start.

“Miss, are you sure about this?” At dusk, the old housekeeper, Hank, stood in her doorway, his face etched with worry. He had been her mother’s most trusted friend. “It’s too risky. If your father and Sharon find out—”

“This is my only way out, Hank,” Lena said, her voice steady.

She looked out the window at the land that now belonged to her father and stepmother, and her mind drifted back to the year she was ten.

She had just shown a bit more talent than Clara at training horses. The very next day, a sharpened tack appeared in her saddle.

It pierced her flesh, blood soaking through her riding pants. She hadn’t dared to cry too loudly, because her stepmother, Sharon, would only cradle a frightened Clara and tell her father, “Lena just loves to show off. The horse wasn’t even properly trained, and she was in such a rush to ride.”

She understood then.

In this family, the more she excelled, the more trouble she brought upon herself.

So she began to pretend.

She pretended to be a “city girl” with no interest in the ranch, a girl who only chased boys, bought designer clothes, and went to parties.

Only then did they stop watching her. Only then could she grow up in peace.

“Hank.” She turned, her gaze quiet but firm. “I’m going to take back the half of this ranch my mother left me. This prize money is the first step.”

She carried her tablet back to the main house and immediately sensed that something was wrong.

In the living room, several cowboys who usually ignored her were all looking at her, their expressions a complicated mix.

Her guard went up instantly.

Then she saw him on the sofa.

Wyatt was back. He was holding a glass of water, his eyes dark and heavy.

When he saw her enter, he set down the glass and walked straight toward her.

He was much taller than she was, and standing this close, he felt oppressive.

Wyatt glanced at the tablet in her arms before fixing his eyes on hers. His voice was cold, hard.

“Lena, did you get a call from the Texas Young Agriculturalist Competition committee?”