"There was no guaranteed number of contestants, Jessica." Chet stepped down from the small platform and moved toward us with surprising speed. In seconds he positioned himself squarely between me and the blonde like a very sparkly human shield. "And the producers," he added brightly, spreading his hands, "wanted to spice things up." His grin widened. "We're already going viral. This is Emmy material, people."
He tilted his head slightly, his expression turning almost painfully polite. Apparently, Chet did not like Jessica very much. "Your contract remains in full effect," he continued in a voice that dripped with sugary sweetness. "And, if you play your cards right, you are about to have more name recognition than the Queen of England." His smile widened further. "That is why you're here, is it not?"
Jessica's jaw tightened slightly.
"Don't lose sight of the prize, my dear."
For a moment it looked like she might argue. Instead, she shot me a long, hostile glare before giving Chet a stiff nod. Then she turned away. Within seconds she had transformed completely—her shoulders relaxed, a dazzling smile appearing as she drifted toward a cluster of cameras and photographers waiting near the bar. A real professional.
I watched her pose gracefully for photos and felt my jaw tighten. I knew her kind. Predatory. If she tried to seduce Egon, I would absolutely scratch her eyes out.
Chet turned back to me as if the entire confrontation had been nothing more than a brief commercial break. "Now," he said briskly, "here's how the evening works."
He explained that we would soon be moving into the larger ballroom next door. Egon would already be waiting there while the contestants entered one at a time for their official introductions. This was the official first meeting. The moment when the cameras captured each contestant encountering the Warlord for the first time. Around me, the women were practically vibrating with anticipation. Some checked their reflections in compact mirrors. Others smoothed their gowns or whispered excitedly to one another. The idea of meeting Egon clearly had them ready to burst out of their high heels.
Chet clapped his hands together once, satisfied with the rising excitement. Then he walked back toward me.
"You ready?" he whispered
"What am I supposed to do?" I asked quietly.
"Simple," he replied, hand covering his mouth. "You pretend." I could hear him, but he was making sure no one could read his lips.
What was this? It was like being thrown into a spy thriller without any training. I blinked. I was a horrible liar. Terrible. Seriously bad.
"On camera," he continued, "you're just another contestant. He's just another Atlan Warlord searching for his mate. The other girls don't know about the bond. The audience doesn't know." His eyes gleamed with the thrill of a perfectly constructed television moment. "You keep it secret. Meet in private if you want but keep it off camera." He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "And meanwhile… the sexual tension builds." He gestured toward the room where the contestants waited. "The jealousy. The drama. The other contestants throwing themselves at him while you watch, knowing he's yours but unable to say it."
"That sounds miserable," I said flatly.
"That," Chet corrected with obvious delight, "sounds like ratings gold." He straightened and tapped his tiny tablet against his palm. "And at the finale—boom." He spread his arms dramatically. "We reveal the truth. Secret romance montage. The greatest love story in reality TV history." His voice grew theatrical again as he painted the picture. "The Warlord who recognized his mate instantly but had to work to win her heart the old fashioned way. The powerful alien warrior who had to woo his reluctant mate and prove himself worthy." His grin sharpened. "And the woman who walked away from a billionaire groom in front of hundreds of wedding guests."
My stomach dropped.
"A real case of love at first sight."
I blinked at him. "Billionaire groom?" My voice came out sharper than I intended. "How did you know?"
Chet scoffed. "Of course I recognized him. Derek Sterling." He rolled his eyes dramatically. "You think the founder and CEO of one of the biggest companies on the planet gets married every day?" He shook his head in mock offense. "Honestly, I was insulted I didn't get an invitation."
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. The entire situation was so ridiculous I couldn't help myself. "Not my call," I said. "I would've invited you."
"Of course you would." He gave a satisfied nod. "Now the important part is that you pull this off." His finger pointed directly at me. "No making goo-goo eyes at your big beast. No one can know you're already in love with him."
"I'm not."
Chet just smiled. "We'll see."
Oh God. I didn't love Egon. I'd only just met him. But Chet wasn't entirely wrong either. I had done exactly what he said—I'd walked away from Derek at the altar. And not just in front of a handful of polite wedding guests. The church had been packed. Billionaires. Movie stars. Influencers. Tech founders whose companies ran half the internet. I was pretty sure there had been actual royalty somewhere in the pews. Most of the people on Derek's guest list alone had probably required their own security detail.
Meanwhile my side of the aisle had been… small. A few coworkers. Two cousins who still lived nearby. I'd invited less than ten people in total. My parents were gone, and most of the extended family had drifted away over the years. Still, the church had been full. Because Derek wasn't just some rich guy. He was the kind of man who had world leaders on speed dial. And I had left him standing at the altar.
Chet gave me a moment to process that little reality bomb. I appreciated the breathing room. The ballroom buzzed around us while I tried to quiet the storm of thoughts spinning through my head. Then I noticed Chet watching something over my shoulder. His gaze slid past me toward the two Prillon warriors standing guard a few feet away. There was a strange look on his face. Recognition. Amusement. Something else entirely.
The Prillons stood perfectly still, massive and silent, their attention sweeping the room in slow, methodical scans. But there was definitely something unspoken in the air between them and Chet. Something hot. Primal. Something that practically screamed about all the ways he was going to fuck their brains out later. I recognized the expression immediately. Egon had given me the exact same look upstairs.
"You good?" Chet shuddered, took a deep breath, as if centering himself, and tried to act casually.
I forced myself to nod. I had my hands full imagining what Egon might do to me later. I did not need to fill my head with anyone else’s activities.
