Ross entered the House of Fortune, the heavy doors closing behind him with a quiet thud.
The atmosphere inside buzzed with a strange mix of anticipation and curiosity.
All eyes turned toward him—some intrigued, others cautious—as he stepped onto the glossy marble floor beneath the glittering chandeliers.
Seventeen contestants had already arrived.
He paused, scanning the room in silence.
Nine men. Eight women.
One by one, his eyes evaluated them.
The men were loud, brimming with ego and testosterone, each trying to assert dominance in their own way—jokes, laughter, casual bragging.
Some flexed subtly while chatting; others tried to command attention with stories that reeked of exaggeration.
Then came the women.
Three were, frankly, unfortunate in appearance—either due to features that didn't sit right or a lack of presence altogether.
One had a face so average it was almost impressive in its forgettability.
But the final five—ah, they were different.
