“For two hundred fifty thousand?” My laugh is sharp and humorless. “That’s more than the prize.”
“It’s our policy.”
My stomach turns.
I can’t afford that. Not in my worst nightmare.
Around me, the other contestants are doing the same math. The same panic. Trapped by signatures and fine print and desperation.
Miranda claps her hands again, bright as ever. “Now, let’s establish our villa couples.”
Of course. Once they trap you with money, they trap you even more with proximity.
“Each woman will draw a number,” she explains, holding up a velvet pouch. “Number one gets first choice of any man. Number two can choose from the remaining…or steal number one’s choice.”
Strategic warfare disguised as romance.
A few minutes later, my hands feel cold as I step forward with the other women, drawing slips in order.
Renee draws first. Valerie second. Emily third. Jessa Fourth.
My fingers dip into the pouch.
Paper slides against my skin.
I unfold my slip.
I’m fifth.
Kylie is last to draw, making her last to choose.
My pulse doesn’t slow. It spikes.
I scan the line of men with a sinking feeling as choices happen fast. Steals happen faster. Partners shift like pieces on a board.
When it’s my turn, my options are already narrowing. Unless I choose to steal, it’s down to Scott and Zayne—and I’d rather not lose an arm by these fierce women.
Scott stands there like he already knows. His mouth has that faint curve again. Certainty. As though he’s been waiting for me to be forced into his orbit.
Not a chance in hell.
“Zayne,” I say quickly, choosing literally anyone else.
Zayne steps toward me with visible relief.
Kylie is last to choose, and she doesn’t even pretend to consider. “I’m stealing Zayne.”
Zayne’s shoulders slump. “I’m so sorry,” he mutters as he steps away.
And suddenly I’m standing alone.
Miranda’s smile widens like she just won. “That leaves our final couple,” she announces. “Lyla and Scott.”
The cameras zoom. Someone whistles. Someone else laughs nervously.
Scott steps toward me. His gaze drops briefly to my mouth, then lifts back to my eyes.
“Hello, little one,” he murmurs.
