My New Life as a Rancher with a Hot Billionaire Husband Chapter 05

My New Life as a Rancher with a Hot Billionaire Husband Chapter 05

Just when I was about to take Elena’s advice and give up on life to become homeless, a ridiculously flashy Maybach rolled up to the ranch, kicking up a cloud of dust.

The car door opened.

A polished, custom leather shoe stepped onto the dirt.

Then a man stepped out.

Gold-rimmed glasses. A tailored trench coat. An oppressive, icy aura that seemed to lower the temperature around him.

His face was pale, with deep shadows under his eyes.

My eyes lit up instantly. It was like watching a walking ATM approach.

“Welcome to Cloudrift Wellness Ranch! Are you here for a short stay or long-term recovery? We offer stargazing suites, private hot springs, and fully organic dining…”

I hurried over like an overenthusiastic assistant.

He swept a cold glance over me, his brow tightening slightly.

“The quietest room. Monthly stay.” His voice was hoarse, heavy with exhaustion.

“Absolutely! Lexi, take our VIP guest to the premium suite!” My voice trembled with excitement.

A monthly booking.

This man was loaded.

He ignored me completely and followed Lexi inside.

His assistant rushed over, sweating, and handed me a black card along with a thick document.

“Ma’am, this is Mr. Harrington’s payment and his list of requirements. Please make sure everything is followed exactly.”

I glanced at the document and nearly blacked out.

[Mr. Harrington’s Daily Routine and Environmental Requirements]

[Room noise must remain below 20 decibels.

Bedding must be 800-thread-count Egyptian cotton, replaced daily.

All food must be certified organic with zero pesticide residue.

No animal noise of any kind within a 500-meter radius…]

…

Dozens of ridiculously detailed demands filled the pages, and my head started to ache.

“Wait a second,” I said, pointing at the fourth item. “This is a ranch. You’re telling me no chickens, no dogs, no animal sounds? How am I supposed to run a business? What exactly am I raising here?”

The assistant looked like he was about to cry. “Please, try to understand. Mr. Harrington has suffered from severe insomnia for six months. His nerves are completely shot.”

“The doctor said he needs absolute silence or he could collapse at any moment. As long as he can rest well, money is not an issue.”

The moment I heard “money is not an issue,” my expression shifted into something saintly.

“Don’t worry,” I said with a warm smile. “At Cloudrift Wellness Ranch, Mr. Harrington will sleep like a baby. Not even a mosquito will dare make a sound in his room.”

The assistant thanked me repeatedly before leaving.

I stared at the black card in my hand and made a silent vow.

For the money, I was all in.