Chapter 33 – First Romantic Date on Camera
The morning sunlight streamed through the enormous windows of the mansion, scattering golden streaks across the polished hardwood floors and reflecting off the crystal-clear pool beyond. Alexis adjusted the strap of her sundress for what felt like the hundredth time, although she wasn't exactly sure why. She tried to tell herself it was nerves, but the truth was far messier: this was the first "official" date scene the producers had set up, and it involved her and Dante in a deliberately staged moment of intimacy that was, in theory, meant to be performance—but she could feel the electricity radiating between them before any cameras even started rolling.
"Just act natural," a producer's voice chirped from the corner of the room, and Alexis felt her stomach tighten. "Remember, the cameras catch everything. And the audience loves authenticity."
Natural. Authentic. Words that had once been simple were now loaded with danger. Because with Dante, natural felt like cheating. Authentic felt like giving away pieces of her heart she hadn't meant to reveal yet.
She forced a deep breath, scanning the set. The table was perfectly arranged for a brunch picnic, wicker chairs and a small linen tablecloth surrounded by fresh flowers and carefully arranged dishes. Every detail screamed romance—but every detail also screamed reality show manipulation.
Dante was already there, casually leaning against the back of one chair, sunglasses on, hands tucked in his pockets, exuding effortless charm that made her chest tighten in ways no scripted scene could explain. He looked up when he noticed her and offered that crooked, teasing smile she couldn't resist.
"Good morning," he said, his voice low and warm. "You look… dangerously calm for someone about to be on-camera flirting."
Alexis swallowed, cheeks warming. "Dangerously calm? That's your polite way of saying I look like I'm about to panic?"
He shrugged, still smiling. "Maybe. But I like it. Makes the chemistry more believable."
Her heart skipped. Chemistry. Believable. The words lingered in her mind, taunting her, because she knew deep down that what she felt was far from manufactured. Every glance he threw, every subtle lean, every half-smile carried weight she couldn't fully quantify. She tried to focus on the scene, on the lines, on the staged brunch—but all the while, a storm of longing, anxiety, and excitement raged inside her.
"Ready?" a cameraman's voice called, signaling the start.
Alexis lifted her chin and approached the table, trying to straighten her back and keep the tremor out of her voice. She kept her eyes deliberately focused on Dante, though she knew the cameras would catch every flutter of her eyelashes, every subtle bite of her lip.
"Hi," she said, sliding into the chair opposite him. She tried to sound casual, to settle into the moment. "This is… quite the setup."
"It's exquisite," Dante replied smoothly, lowering his sunglasses just enough to let a spark of mischief shine through his eyes. "But I have to warn you—I might be completely irresistible on camera."
Alexis's lips twitched, fighting the urge to laugh out loud. "Completely irresistible, huh? You're going to make my job impossible. I might accidentally fall for you right here, in front of a hundred thousand viewers."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, just close enough that she could feel the subtle warmth radiating from him. "Wouldn't that be convenient?" he murmured, his tone teasing, his eyes glinting with amusement and something deeper—something unspoken that made her chest clench.
The producers shouted their cues from the side, urging them to improvise conversation, to act naturally, to laugh, to flirt—but with every scripted prompt, Alexis felt the boundary between acting and reality blur. The ease with which Dante spoke, the way he brushed a strand of hair behind his ear, the subtle tilt of his head when he laughed—it wasn't acting. It couldn't be.
"And what about you?" Alexis asked, leaning slightly forward, as if to make the conversation intimate, though they were under the harsh scrutiny of multiple cameras. "Do you ever… feel like this is all a performance?"
Dante's eyes softened, and for a heartbeat, she thought he might actually drop the teasing persona. "Honestly? Sometimes. But right now… sitting here with you, I'm not thinking about cameras, scripts, or ratings. I'm just thinking about you."
Her breath caught. She wanted to protest, to remind him—and herself—that this was all staged, that the producers were lurking nearby, that one misstep could be twisted into scandal. But she couldn't. Every word, every glance, every laugh tethered her to him in ways that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.
She pushed a small piece of bread across the table in mock surrender. "Fine. But don't get used to me letting my guard down like this. The audience is watching, after all."
He chuckled, and it was so warm, so real, that she couldn't help but smile in return. "Don't worry. I like it when you're guarded. Makes the moments you're not… even more remarkable."
The flirtation flowed naturally, almost dangerously so. They teased each other about everything—from who had the worst table manners to whose laugh was more obnoxious. Alexis realized she was laughing freely, more than she had in weeks, even as a subtle panic whispered in the back of her mind: she couldn't let herself fully fall. Not yet. Too many cameras, too many eyes, too many people scheming.
Across the room, she noticed rival contestants watching the scene with narrowed eyes. They whispered among themselves, their expressions tight with jealousy and scheming, and Alexis couldn't help but smirk. Let them watch. Let them envy. But she also couldn't shake the knowledge that every glance, every subtle brush of his hand as he reached for the same dish, every accidental touch, was feeding their suspicions.
Her internal monologue raced: Is this real? Are these sparks genuine, or am I just… playing the part too well?
Dante's gaze caught hers again, intense and steady, and for a moment, she felt like the world had narrowed to the space between them. The playful teasing melted into a more serious undertone. His voice lowered slightly. "You know, I've missed this. Not the show, not the cameras… this. Talking to you. Laughing with you. Even in the middle of all this chaos."
Her throat went dry. She wanted to say something clever, something witty, something that maintained the protective barrier she always kept around her heart—but the words faltered. "I… me too," she admitted softly. "I didn't think I would."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The flirtation had given way to something quieter, more intimate, something that no script could contain. Alexis felt a flutter in her stomach, a heat rising in her chest, and realized with both excitement and panic that her feelings were dangerously real.
Then, as if on cue, a production assistant stepped in to remind them about the next shot, and the moment dissolved. They were back in the show, back in the game, but something had shifted irrevocably. The playful energy remained, but beneath it now lay a current of tension, desire, and possibility that neither of them could ignore.
As they moved to reset for another angle, Alexis stole a glance at Dante. He caught her eye and gave that teasing half-smile again, but this time it was layered with something she couldn't quite name—something personal, something that hinted he might be feeling the same confusion, the same spark she couldn't fully control.
The rest of the morning blurred into a haze of cameras, laughter, flirty banter, and staged moments that suddenly felt too real. Alexis realized with a start that she hadn't thought once about the audience, the ratings, the sabotage strategies, or the rival contestants. Her attention had been wholly, entirely on him. And the realization was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.
When the final shot of the date wrapped, Dante leaned closer, voice just above a whisper, barely audible over the chatter of the crew. "You were perfect today."
Alexis's heart leapt. "You mean… on camera?" she asked, attempting to hide the rapid beat of her pulse.
He smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief. "I mean… with me. Off camera. But yeah, sure, on camera too."
Her lips twitched into a genuine smile, one that reached her eyes for the first time in weeks. For a fleeting moment, the world outside—the cameras, the rivals, the production drama—disappeared. There was only him. Only them. Only the warmth, the teasing, the spark of something dangerously, irresistibly real.
And Alexis knew, with both fear and thrill, that this was only the beginning.
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