"Good." Brunhilde climbs into the SUV.
"I’ll tell your aunt you were rude, stubborn, and completely unsuited for me. It will save us both the headache."
"I owe you a debt."
"Send cupcakes. The chocolate ones." She revs the engine.
"Die well, Korgan." It is the standard orcish farewell.
I watch her drive off, one problem solved.
Now for the rest of them.
CHAPTER 11
TRINITY
The leak hits at 6 AM Tuesday morning.
I'm halfway through my first cup of coffee, scrolling through emails from potential sponsors, when Maya calls.
"Turn on Channel 7. Now."
"What's—"
"Now, Trinity."
I fumble for the remote, flip channels until I find the morning show. And there it is. My face. Korgan's face. A headline that makes my stomach drop straight through the floor.
REALITY STAR'S SECRET PLOT: Did Baker Manipulate Orc Bachelor for Fame?
"In a shocking turn of events," the anchor says, voice dripping with manufactured concern, "new evidence suggests thatHeart of the Hordecontestant Trinity Lewis may have orchestrated her romance with bachelor Korgan Dongoran as part of an elaborate publicity scheme."
They cut to footage. Grainy, obviously recorded without permission. Me on the phone with Maya, week two of filming.
"I need this to work," my voice crackles through terrible audio. "The bakery's everything. If I can just get enough attention, enough buzz..."
Maya's response is cut off. Then my voice again: "Whatever it takes. I'll do whatever it takes."
The anchor reappears. "Sources close to production say Lewis has been planning this media manipulation from day one, using the show's format and her romantic connection with Dongoran to generate publicity for her struggling business."
Cut to an interview with someone I don't know. Some "relationship expert" who's never met me.
"It's a classic pattern," she says. "Small-town business owner sees an opportunity, targets the most vulnerable bachelor on the show, plays into his cultural isolation to create a compelling narrative. Very calculated. Very cold."
The coffee mug slips from my hands. Crashes against the floor. Brown liquid spreads across white tile like a stain I'll never get out.
My phone's already ringing. Unknown number.
"Trinity Lewis? This is Janet from Sunshine Flour Distributors. We need to discuss your account."
"Janet, I can explain?—"
"Our board met this morning. We're terminating our partnership effective immediately. The scandal, the negative publicity is not the image we want associated with our brand."
She hangs up before I say a word.
Then another call. And another. Three vendors, two suppliers, and a catering contract I'd been counting on. All gone in the span of twenty minutes.
