Chapter 186: A Missing Popstar...

I walked up to the front desk inside the main lodge, where a quiet, sleepy-eyed clerk looked up. I pulled a thick stack of bills from our canvas bag, paid upfront for a secluded log cabin deep in the trees, and took the brass key off the counter without giving a single name.

We unlocked the door to our cabin and stepped inside. The space was incredible—warm wooden walls, a stone fireplace, soft vintage rugs, and a wide porch overlooking the quiet valley. Not a sound came from outside except the rustle of pine needles and the distant, rhythmic chirping of crickets.

Ruby walked around the living area in her sunflower dress, running her hand along the polished timber railing, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the table lamps.

“Ethan,” she murmured, stopping near the edge of the large king-sized bed in the corner. “It’s so… peaceful.”

She lifted her arms above her head, stretching out her back, and let out a long, deep yawn that ended in a tired giggle. Her eyelids were fluttering heavy with exhaustion after a night of running through alleys, jumping turnstiles, and escaping the city.

“Looks like the runaway pop star is out of battery,” I said softly, stepping up beside her.

She pulled my arm, her strength fading into a gentle, heavy lean as she practically dragged me down onto the plush mattress with her.

“Come on,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. “No more running tonight.”

She kicked off her sandals and curled right into my side, her arms wrapping tight around my waist.

She pressed her face against my chest, letting out a long, contented sigh that relaxed every muscle in her body.

Within seconds, her breathing slowed into a soft, steady rhythm against my heartbeat.

I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, resting my chin lightly on her soft hair. Outside the cabin window, the countryside was dead silent under the starlight—no paparazzi, no noise.

Just the two of us, completely untraceable, asleep in the middle of nowhere.

I woke up to sunlight streaming through the cabin window, hitting the empty side of the bed. I reached out on instinct, but the sheets were already cool.

“Ruby?” I called out, my voice raspy with sleep.

Silence.

I sat up, my heart instantly dropping into my stomach. I checked the small bathroom—empty. I checked the main living area and the porch—nothing. The floral sundress was nowhere in sight.

“Where the hell did she go?” I muttered, panic snapping me fully awake.

Without even lacing my boots properly, I yanked on my shirt, grabbed the canvas bag of cash, and burst out through the cabin door into the crisp morning air.

The ranch was bathed in a golden morning haze. Dew covered the grass, and the crisp scent of pine was everywhere, but the quiet that felt so peaceful last night now felt suffocating. My mind immediately raced through every worst-case scenario. Did a fan spot us? Did Sarah track us somehow? Did she get cold feet and try to head back?

I scanned the dirt paths, my eyes darting toward the main lodge, the surrounding treeline, and the open stables in the distance.

“Ruby!” I called out, keeping my voice low but urgent as I started jogging down the path toward the center of the ranch.

I walked down the dirt path, asking a couple of ranch hands if they’d seen a girl in a sunflower dress. One of them pointed toward the barn near the open pastures.

When I reached the wooden fence, my jaw practically dropped.

There was Ruby, holding a heavy metal bucket, walking through the barnyard like she’d been doing it her whole life. I leaned heavily against the top rail of the wooden fence, letting out a long, exhausted sigh of relief.

“What the hell are you doing?” I called out, crossing my arms.

Ruby turned around, wiping a stray strand of hair from her forehead, a huge grin on her face. “Oh, good morning! I met Mrs. Gable earlier—she’s this incredibly sweet woman running the farm by herself today, so I decided to lend a hand. Come on in and join!”

“Ruby, this is supposed to be a vacation,” I said, shaking my head with a dry laugh as I unlatched the wooden gate.

“Oh, come on, the work isn’t even that much,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

I gave in, stepping into the barnyard. “Alright, fine. What are you even doing with that bucket?”

“I’m going to milk the cow!” she announced proudly, heading toward the stalls.

As we walked down the cool, shaded wooden aisle of the barn, her expression softened into something nostalgic.

“You know…” she said softly, her voice echoing in the quiet space, “my dad used to tell me stories all the time about when he was younger. He grew up working on a farm just like this, hustling every single day until he finally made it to the city… before he started working for Travis.”

Her voice trailed off, dropping low and heavy at the mention of Travis’s name. A shadow of pain crossed her face, remembering the controlling manager and the high-stakes industry that had squeezed the life out of her family.

Before the heavy mood could settle, she instantly shook her head and cheered right back up, flashing me a bright smile.

“Anyway! That’s not the point,” she giggled, holding the bucket up. “The point is, he always said farm work grounds you. I wanted to try it out for myself just to unwind.”

“Sure,” I smiled, leaning against a post. “So what am I supposed to do, farm hand?”

“Here,” she said, snatching a large pitchfork resting against a hay bale and thrusting it into my hands. “You’re on hay duty.”

Just then, Mrs. Gable—an older woman in denim overalls—walked around the corner of the stall. She stopped, looking at me holding the pitchfork with a surprised smile.

“Oh, morning son! You helping out too?” the old woman asked kindly, wiping her hands on her apron. “I ought to tell you now, I can’t afford to pay you two anything for the labor.”

“We don’t want your pay, ma’am,” I chuckled, turning the pitchfork in my hand. “We’re just here for the therapy.”

Power Ranking Weekly #10

Oct 13, 08:05 – Oct 19, 06:00

Mass release 50 chapters