Chapter 36 – Rumors Escalate
The morning sunlight filtered through the mansion's floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow across the polished hardwood floors. Alexis Harper sat at the edge of her bed, staring at her phone with the kind of dread usually reserved for horror movies. Her thumb hovered over the screen as she scrolled through the notifications, each one worse than the last. Headlines flashed like flashing neon signs in her mind:
"Alexis Harper's Secret Romance Sparks Reality TV Scandal!"
"Ex-Lovers Reignite Flames in On-Camera Drama"
"Pick-Me Girl or Genuine Heart? Alexis Harper Under Fire."
Her chest tightened. Every headline felt like a punch. The paparazzi had gotten wind of her and Dante's private moments, twisting stolen glimpses into scandalous, clickbait fodder. Even in the confines of a controlled reality show environment, Alexis felt like her career—already teetering on the edge—was about to collapse entirely.
She pressed her palms to her eyes and exhaled sharply. Why now? Why him? Why me? The questions didn't need answers; they hung in the air like smoke. Her stomach churned as anxiety climbed her throat.
The knock on her door was soft but insistent.
"Alexis? You okay?"
Dante's voice, calm and grounding, cut through her panic like a lifeline.
She wiped her hands on her jeans, trying to compose herself. "I—It's… fine."
"You're not fine." He pushed the door open slightly, just enough to slip inside. His presence filled the room in a way that made it impossible to breathe normally. The sight of him—his crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal toned forearms, hair perfectly tousled, that piercing gaze that had haunted her dreams for weeks—made her heart thrum painfully.
"I don't know what to do, Dante," she admitted, voice trembling despite her effort at control. "The headlines… the footage… it's everywhere. My career is—was—already a mess. Now everyone's spinning this like I'm some manipulative—" She cut herself off, realizing she was on the verge of a full-blown panic spiral.
Dante stepped closer, his presence magnetic yet protective. "Hey. Hey. Look at me." His hand gently tilted her chin up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. "None of this changes who you are, Alexis. You're not the headlines. You're not the spin. You're—" He swallowed, his voice lowering, almost a whisper. "You're you."
Her chest tightened. The words should have been simple, almost banal, yet the way he said them—intimate, unwavering, and sincere—made her knees feel weak. She blinked rapidly, as if to keep the tears from falling.
"But it's everywhere, Dante," she said, voice cracking. "They're twisting everything we've shared. People think I'm playing some kind of game with you, like I'm—like I'm doing this for attention."
"And?" he asked gently. His gaze softened, but there was a subtle teasing edge, as if he knew exactly how to unnerve her while comforting her simultaneously.
Alexis let out a bitter laugh, half sob, half hysteria. "And it's true! I am playing a game… but it's not like they think. I don't want people thinking I'm… I don't know… I don't want people thinking I'm just… a caricature."
Dante's fingers brushed hers briefly, a small, accidental touch that sent a jolt of warmth up her arm. "Alexis… look at me. You're complicated, messy, brilliant… and yes, sometimes chaotic. But people don't get to define you—especially not some clickbait headlines. And I—" He hesitated, swallowing around words that carried too much weight to say aloud easily. "I see you. All of you. Even when the world doesn't."
Her chest swelled with emotion. It was almost too much—too raw, too real. And yet, amidst the storm of anxiety, a spark of relief flickered, delicate but insistent.
She bit her lip and tried to force a laugh, shaky but genuine. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one being humiliated in front of millions."
Dante's lips twitched in the corner of a smile. "Maybe. But I am the one who gets to see you when you're real. And I like that Alexis. A lot."
Her stomach fluttered uncomfortably, betraying her attempt at nonchalance. "You're dangerous, you know that?"
"Maybe. But you like it," he teased, stepping just close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from him.
The moment was fleeting, precious, and unscripted. Outside, the rest of the contestants were oblivious, gossiping about the latest rumor, plotting their next manipulations. Inside, Alexis felt the storm of public scrutiny lose some of its weight, replaced by the slow, building heat of intimacy she hadn't allowed herself to acknowledge until now.
And yet… she was painfully aware that this private reassurance could easily turn into the next viral headline. Every laugh, every brush of hands, every lingering gaze could—and probably would—be exploited by rivals hungry for leverage.
Her phone buzzed sharply on the bedside table, jolting her back to reality. Another headline, another social media alert, another comment mocking or praising in equal measure. Alexis groaned, grabbing it reluctantly.
"'Alexis Harper's Emotional Breakdown! Dante Saves Her Again!'" she read aloud, exasperation threading her voice. "Look at this. Look at what they're making of us."
Dante leaned over, peering at the screen. "Ignore it. The truth is, you're handling this better than anyone. And me? I'm just here to make sure you don't crumble entirely." He smiled, a little wicked, a little tender. "Besides… seeing you frazzled? Kind of adorable."
Alexis rolled her eyes, but she couldn't suppress the flush creeping up her neck. His words, half-teasing, half-sincere, did something her own defenses couldn't quite manage. Her heart pounded in her chest, a confusing tangle of fear, relief, and attraction.
As if on cue, a subtle knock at the door made them both glance up. One of the rival contestants, probably tipped off by Vanessa Cross, lingered just long enough to hint at spying before retreating. Alexis's stomach clenched; she hated the idea of being watched, especially in a vulnerable moment.
Dante's hand brushed hers again, protective and possessive in the gentlest way. "They can look. Doesn't matter. Not if I'm here."
And in that instant, Alexis realized that she didn't just want protection. She wanted him. Not as a shield, not as a distraction, but as him. The warmth of his hand, the intensity of his gaze, the soft reassurance in his voice—it all made her chest ache with longing.
She leaned back against the bed, letting herself breathe. "I don't know how we're going to survive this," she admitted. "The headlines, the rumors… the scheming. I feel like I'm walking a tightrope."
"And I'm the safety net," Dante said simply. "You're not walking it alone."
The rest of the morning blurred into fragmented moments of tension, private jokes, and cautious touches. Each second spent with him was a delicate balance: thrilling and dangerous, grounding yet intoxicating. Meanwhile, outside their bubble, the social media storm raged, each notification a potential weapon in the hands of jealous contestants.
By the time they left the room, Alexis's nerves were frayed but her heart—her heart—was strangely buoyant. Rumors, scandals, manipulations—they could all try, but this connection, this moment, felt real. And maybe, just maybe, it could survive the chaos.
Her internal monologue churned with a mix of fear and exhilaration: I'm terrified. But being around him… it feels right. Even if the world thinks otherwise.
Dante caught her gaze in the hallway, eyebrows quirking, lips curving into a smile that made her knees weak. "Ready for the chaos?" he asked, playful, yet with a hint of sincerity.
Alexis squared her shoulders, a small grin tugging at her lips. "As ready as I'll ever be," she said, her voice steady, even as her heart hammered.
And together, they stepped back into the controlled chaos of the reality show, every glance, every word, every stolen moment promising both danger and desire.
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