Scarlett's POV
The black car slammed on its brakes, throwing me forward against the seat belt. My coffee spilled all over my lap, burning me through my jeans.
"Sorry about that," the driver said without looking back. "Traffic in Malibu is crazy today."
I stared out the window at the massive gates ahead of us. "Love Island Dreams" was painted in gold letters across iron bars that looked more like a prison than a TV set. My stomach twisted into knots.
What had I gotten myself into?
The gates opened with a loud screech, and we drove through. I pulled out my phone to text Luna, but there was no signal. They'd warned me about that in the contract. No contact with the outside world once filming started.
The car stopped in front of a building that looked like an office. Not the mansion I'd seen in the show's commercials. A man in an expensive suit walked out, his smile too wide and too fake.
Jake Morrison. The producer who'd called me last night with his creepy warning about my past.
"Scarlett!" He opened my car door like we were old friends. "Welcome to your new life."
"Thanks," I said, trying to sound braver than I felt.
"Come inside. We have a lot to discuss before you meet your housemates."
The office was cold and sterile. Jake sat behind a huge desk covered with photos and papers. He gestured to a chair across from him.
"First things first," he said, sliding a folder toward me. "Your villain handbook."
I opened it and felt sick. Page after page of instructions on how to manipulate people. How to start fights. How to make other contestants cry on camera.
"This is horrible," I whispered.
"This is television," Jake corrected with that awful smile. "And this is what you signed up for."
"I signed up to be on a reality show. Not to torture innocent people."
Jake leaned back in his chair. "Innocent? Scarlett, these people are here for fame and money, just like you. The only difference is you're honest about it."
"That doesn't make it right."
"Right and wrong don't matter here. Ratings matter. Drama matters. And you're going to give me both."
He pulled out a stack of photos and spread them across the desk like playing cards. "These are your targets."
The first photo showed a beautiful girl with blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She looked like a princess from a fairy tale.
"Madison Brooks," Jake said. "Our bachelorette. Sweet, trusting, and completely naive. She'll believe anything you tell her."
My heart sank. Madison looked so young and hopeful. The kind of person who still believed in true love and happy endings.
"She's just a kid," I said.
"She's twenty-five and worth millions in social media followers. Don't let the innocent act fool you."
Jake showed me more photos. Ryan, the cocky athlete who only cared about his muscles and his hair. Marcus, the shy accountant who seemed genuinely nice. David, the artist who painted in his spare time.
Each photo came with cruel instructions. "Make Ryan doubt himself. Convince Marcus he's not good enough. Tell David his art is terrible."
"I can't do this," I said, pushing the photos away.
"You already did." Jake tapped the contract sitting on his desk. "Fifty thousand dollars, remember? Or would you rather pay us fifty thousand dollars when you quit?"
The money. Always came back to the money. I picked up the photos again, hating myself with each face I looked at.
"What exactly do you want me to do?"
"Simple. Make Madison question every man she's interested in. Plant seeds of doubt. Start rumors. Create jealousy. Whatever it takes to keep her confused and the audience entertained."
"And if I refuse?"
Jake's smile disappeared. "Then you'll be homeless and broke by next week. Plus, you'll owe us money you don't have. Is that what you want?"
No. It wasn't what I wanted. But I didn't see any other choice.
"How long do I have to do this?"
"Six weeks of filming. That's it. Then you take your money and disappear forever. Think of it as acting. You're playing a character."
"A character everyone will hate."
"Exactly. But a character who gets paid very well for her performance."
I looked at Madison's photo again. Her smile was so bright and genuine. In a few hours, I'd be working to destroy her happiness.
"There's one more thing," Jake said, reaching for another folder on his desk. "We've added someone special to the cast. Someone who's going to make your job much more interesting."
"What do you mean?"
"Let's just say we did our research on you, Scarlett. Your past relationships, your college years, all of it."
My blood turned to ice. "You investigated my personal life?"
"It's all public record. Social media posts, old interviews, college newspaper articles. Very interesting reading."
"Get to the point."
Jake pulled out a single photo but kept it face-down on the desk. "One of Madison's suitors has a very personal connection to you. A connection you thought you'd left in the past."
My hands started shaking. "Who is it?"
"Someone who knew you before you became Hollywood's biggest disappointment. Someone who might still care about the girl you used to be."
"That's impossible. Everyone from my past life has forgotten about me."
"Have they?" Jake flipped the photo over, but only halfway. I could see dark hair but not the face. "This contestant specifically requested to be on the show when he heard you'd be cast."
"You're lying."
"Am I? He told our casting director that he had unfinished business with someone from his past. Someone he needed to see again."
My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might explode. There was only one person from my past who might want to see me again. Only one person who might have unfinished business with me.
But he wouldn't do this. He was successful now, famous, living the dream we'd once planned together. He'd moved on. He had to have moved on.
"Who is it?" I demanded.
Jake smiled that cruel smile again. "All will be revealed tomorrow morning when he arrives. But I will say this – your reunion is going to make incredible television."
"I want to see the photo."
"Not yet. I want your genuine reaction on camera. The look of shock, the recognition, maybe even some tears. America will eat it up."
I reached for the photo, but Jake snatched it away.
"Now, now. No spoilers. Besides, you have a job to do tonight. The other contestants are already in the house, and Madison is getting cozy with some of them. Time for you to make your entrance."
He stood up and walked to the door. "Your costume designer is waiting next door. Something red, I think. Red for danger, red for the villain, red for the blood in the water when you start your feeding frenzy."
"I hate you," I said quietly.
"Good. Channel that hatred into your performance. Make Madison doubt every man she meets. Make the audience hate you more than they've ever hated anyone. Give me drama, Scarlett. Give me ratings."
"And if I don't?"
Jake paused at the door. "Then our mystery contestant might just tell everyone the real reason you ran away five years ago. The real reason you broke his heart and destroyed any chance at happiness you both had."
The room started spinning. He knew. Somehow, Jake Morrison knew exactly what had happened between me and... him. Knew why I'd left. Knew the secret I'd been carrying all these years.
"One more thing," Jake said, his hand on the doorknob. "When you see tomorrow's arrival, try not to faint. We need you conscious for the cameras."
He left me alone in that cold office, staring at the photos of people whose lives I was about to ruin. But all I could think about was the face I couldn't see. The photo Jake was keeping hidden.
Someone from my past wanted to see me again. Someone with unfinished business.
And tomorrow morning, my carefully buried secrets would come walking through that mansion door.
I closed my eyes and whispered a prayer to whoever might be listening.
Please don't let it be him. Please don't let it be the one person who could destroy me completely.
But deep down, I already knew.
It was going to be exactly who I feared most.