"Chet! Over here! Did he really break down church doors?"
The questions came from every direction, shouted across barricades as microphones stretched toward us like mechanical vines. Chet ignored them all. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment. We stepped through the doors, which I immediately noticed had been spray-painted gold and covered in what looked like thousands of artificial crystals.
The lobby inside was… a lot. Crystal chandeliers cascaded from the ceiling like frozen waterfalls, each one larger and more elaborate than the last. Their light scattered across the white marble floor below, which was streaked with veins of gold that caught the glow and reflected it in dizzying patterns. The entire room shimmered. Everywhere I looked there were towering arrangements of white flowers and silver branches rising from polished pedestals. Roses, lilies, orchids—expensive blooms layered so thickly the scent filled the air in a sweet, heady cloud.
And everywhere… there were women. I had only glimpsed a handful of contestants earlier, near the limousines. Now I saw them all. Forty stunningly gorgeous, impossibly polished women filled the ballroom space. They moved through the room in elaborate gowns that sparkled under the chandeliers, their hair styled in perfect waves or intricate braids, their makeup flawless under the soft lighting. Some gathered near the bar, laughing quietly. Others lounged across velvet sofas like living magazine covers. Several stood by the tall windows posing for candid photos as photographers drifted around the room.
Every single one of them looked like she belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine. And every single one of them turned at the same time.
Because Egon had just walked into the room. The air stalled in my lungs. God. He was gorgeous. The double doors across the ballroom swung open and he stepped inside, his massive frame instantly commanding every inch of attention in the room. The glitter across his broad chest still caught the light with every movement, the strange sparkle turning his golden skin into something almost mythic.
His gaze swept the room in a single controlled motion. Then it found me. For a heartbeat the noise around us seemed to fade. His eyes lingered just long enough to make my pulse jump before they flicked briefly past me, scanning the space behind my shoulders. Looking for the Prillon warriors he had trusted to guard me? He found them immediately. Satisfied, his focus returned to me.
One of Chet's production assistants hurried toward him, speaking quickly while pointing toward the far end of the room where several cameras were already positioned. Egon listened without looking away from me, then gave a short nod and began moving in the direction they indicated.
Around me, the contestants reacted. Apparently, none of them had seen him before. Or met him. This was their first time.
"Is that…?"
"Oh my God."
"He's huge."
“He’s friggin’ gorgeous.”
The whispers spread through the room like a wave, passing from one group to another as he crossed the floor. Several women leaned toward each other, their eyes wide with fascination as they watched him move. And then some of them started looking at me.
Pointing. Whispering. I realized quickly that they were asking each other who I was. They clearly all knew one another already. Which made me the obvious outsider. Again. Heat rushed into my face, and for a moment I seriously considered diving behind the nearest floral arrangement and hiding until the cameras left. Instead, I stood there awkwardly while the whispers continued.
Across the room, Chet was doing what he did best. Circling. Socializing. Working the crowd like a glitter-covered shark. I heard him laughing as he answered questions from a cluster of curious contestants.
"She's new, ladies," he announced cheerfully, gesturing in my direction. "Contestant Forty-One!"
That only seemed to make the whispers louder.
Chet eventually drifted toward the front of the room, stepping onto a small, raised platform near the largest chandelier. Someone handed him a microphone, and the moment he tapped it the chatter slowly died down. His voice boomed through hidden speakers installed somewhere in the ceiling.
"Ladies!" He spread his arms dramatically. "I want to welcome you all." A wide, theatrical grin stretched across his face. "Welcome to Bachelor Beast! The hottest television show in the universe!”
Chet launched into the evening's schedule with the confidence of a man who had done this performance a thousand times. He outlined the plan for the night, reminding everyone about the detailed itineraries waiting in our hotel suites.
I didn’t have one of those. Yet. I’d ask someone later. Maybe Egon had one.
His voice carried easily through the ballroom speakers as he listed the rules in a tone that was calm, professional, and surprisingly serious. No touching the Atlan Warlord without permission. No fighting with other contestants. No speaking to members of the press without clearance. And, of course, a reminder about the extensive non-disclosure agreements every single one of us had signed before stepping anywhere near this show.
The strange thing was that Chet wasn't flashy at all while he spoke. Gone was the glittering showman who had burst into my wedding like a human firework. Now he looked almost corporate—focused, controlled, efficient.
When he finally finished, the room buzzed with quiet murmurs again. A tall blonde woman in a shimmering silver gown stepped forward from the crowd. Her posture was perfect. Her expression carefully neutral, though the sharpness in her eyes told a different story. She was stunning. I was pretty sure I recognized her. Maybe from one of those swimsuit magazines. Or maybe lingerie. She totally had the body for it. Thin. Curved waist. Narrow hips. Larger breasts that flowed over the top of her gown. It was the ruthless cunning in her gaze that made me hate her on sight.
She wanted Egon. Not because she knew him or cared about him, but because being chosen would make her richer and more famous than she probably already was.
"I thought we only had forty contestants."
"Surprise addition," Chet replied cheerfully without missing a beat. "Last-minute casting change. Now, ladies, in a few minutes we?—"
The blonde's gaze slid toward me. Her eyes narrowed. She walked directly across the room, heels clicking sharply against the marble floor as she closed the distance between us.
"That's not how this works.” Her voice was cold. Calculating. And loud enough to carry through the room. "We've all been here for a week." She stopped a few feet away, studying me with open suspicion. "Who are you?"
