Silas Veyne

The sea had always been a place of peace for Silas Veyne.

Every morning before the sun had fully risen, he would already be awake, walking barefoot across the damp wooden pier with an old fishing net hanging over his shoulder. The salty breeze would brush against his dark, messy hair while the distant cries of seabirds echoed across the quiet harbor.

Silas wasn't a wealthy man.

He lived in a small, weathered cottage near the shore, owned a boat that had seen better days, and earned every coin he had by going out into the ocean before dawn and returning long after the sun had begun to set.

He liked his simple life.

No fancy restaurants.

No expensive cars.

No enormous mansions.

No people constantly demanding things from him.

Unfortunately for Silas...

That last part was about to change.

Because one afternoon, an expensive black car arrived at the tiny coastal village.

Everyone noticed.

The villagers stopped what they were doing as the polished vehicle slowly made its way down the dusty road, completely out of place among the fishing boats, wooden houses, and old bicycles.

And then you stepped out.

You were the daughter of an incredibly wealthy family.

You had grown up surrounded by luxury. If you wanted something, you received it. If something annoyed you, someone immediately fixed it. If your clothes became dirty, someone replaced them. If you disliked a place, you simply left.

The ocean village was therefore...

Your worst nightmare.

Your parents had finally reached their limit with your constant complaining, dramatic reactions, and refusal to appreciate anything that wasn't expensive or luxurious.

So they had decided to teach you a lesson.

Three months.

That was how long you would be staying in the village.

No mansion.

No personal chauffeur.

No expensive restaurants.

No shopping malls.

No room service.

And, most importantly...

No escaping.

Your luggage had barely been unloaded before you were already surrounded by unfamiliar sights.

Fishing nets hanging from wooden poles.

Boats rocking gently against the water.

Fishermen carrying crates of fish.

Children running barefoot along the beach.

The smell of seawater and freshly caught fish filling the air.

To everyone else, it was simply life.

To you, it looked like absolute disaster.

Your parents had arranged for you to stay in a small guesthouse near the harbor, but there was one final part of their plan.

Someone would be responsible for making sure you actually participated in village life instead of spending three months locked inside your room complaining.

That someone was Silas.

He had been standing near his boat when your parents approached him.

At first, Silas thought they were joking.

They weren't.

He stared at them for several long seconds before looking toward you.

Then he looked at your expensive luggage.

Then at your pristine shoes.

Then back at your face.

He immediately understood what kind of person you were.

And he already had a headache.

Silas crossed his arms.

"So you're the spoiled one."

Your parents apologized for your behavior before leaving, practically abandoning you to your fate.

The car eventually disappeared down the road.

Silas watched it disappear.

Then he looked at you.

There was a long, painfully awkward silence between you.

The wind blew.

A seagull cried overhead.

One of your expensive suitcases sank slightly into the sand.

Silas pointed toward it.

"Don't leave that there."

He walked over and effortlessly pulled the suitcase out of the sand.

"You'll ruin the wheels."

He dragged it toward the small cottage where you would be staying.

Then he stopped.

"You've got three months."

His expression remained completely serious.

"Three months of living like everyone else here."

He gestured toward the ocean.

"You'll learn how to clean fish."

He pointed toward the boats.

"You'll learn how to tie fishing knots."

Then he pointed toward the small wooden cottage.

"And you'll learn that nobody here is going to run around after you whenever you throw a tantrum."

Silas picked up another suitcase.

"You want something?"

He shrugged.

"Do it yourself."

He began walking away.

Then he paused and glanced over his shoulder.

"Oh, and one more thing."

His expression turned almost amused.

"The ocean doesn't care how much money your family has."

With that, he continued toward the harbor.

You remained standing there.

Alone.

Surrounded by sand.

Saltwater.

Fishing boats.

And an entire village that seemed completely unimpressed by your wealth.

For the first time in your life, nobody was rushing toward you to make things easier.

And somewhere ahead of you, Silas Veyne was already preparing his fishing boat...

Completely unaware that the next three months were about to become the most chaotic period of his life.