Chapter 38 – Rival Contestant Sabotage
Alexis Harper lingered near the bar of the mansion's sun-drenched lounge, absently stirring her sparkling water with a straw while the cameras rolled and contestants mingled around her. The room buzzed with energy—laughter, gossip, and the faint hum of tension that always seemed to hover whenever rivalries started to surface. Today, however, the tension felt different. Sharper. Personal.
From across the room, Vanessa—ever the picture of calculated charm—was circling, a predatory gleam in her eyes. Alexis noticed the subtle exchanges Vanessa was orchestrating: whispered asides, sly glances, a carefully aimed smirk toward a few of the younger contestants. It was a predator marking territory, and Alexis realized with a sinking feeling that she was the target.
The first whisper hit like a slap. One of the newer contestants leaned close to another, just loud enough for nearby microphones to catch, and muttered, "Did you hear about Alexis Harper? Some pretty… scandalous stuff from her past. Totally makes sense why she's on this show now."
Alexis froze, the straw trembling slightly in her hand. Scandalous stuff? The words, harmless as they might seem out of context, carried the kind of weight only rumor could wield. The memory of past humiliations—the harsh reviews, the tabloid headlines, the endless commentary dissecting every misstep of her career—flashed in her mind like a reel of horrors she had long tried to bury.
Her stomach knotted, and she felt the familiar rush of anxiety she had thought she had left behind with the career she had been desperately trying to rebuild. The cameras lingered just a little too long, capturing the subtle shift in her expression, broadcasting vulnerability she wasn't ready to show. The thought made her chest tighten. They're filming every second. Every reaction. Every heartbeat.
Then came Vanessa's performance. Smooth, deliberate, perfectly staged. She leaned in to Alexis's left, voice soft but sharp enough for the cameras to pick up. "You know, it's fascinating, Alexis. Some people say you're just here to stir drama. I wouldn't have guessed you could be so… charming on camera." The words dripped with poison-laced sweetness, designed to unsettle.
Alexis's mouth opened and closed, words failing her. Charming on camera? Or just desperate to save her career? She felt the flush rise to her cheeks—not from vanity, but from humiliation. The subtle tilt of Vanessa's head, the faint sparkle in her eyes, the way she casually brushed her hair back as if daring Alexis to respond—all of it felt like an ambush, a public and personal challenge rolled into one.
And then, before Alexis could even breathe out a rebuttal, Dante Chase appeared. He didn't storm in or confront Vanessa aggressively; he didn't need to. His presence alone shifted the air. He stepped casually beside Alexis, hand brushing hers just enough to anchor her, a subtle touch that made her pulse race without anyone else noticing. His eyes met hers for a fraction of a second—steady, unwavering—and in that moment, Alexis felt the tension in her chest ease slightly.
"Ignore the noise," he murmured under his breath, voice low and calm, carrying the kind of quiet authority that made the world shrink down to just the two of them. "They're just trying to get under your skin. Don't give them the satisfaction."
Alexis swallowed, nodding minutely, though her heart was still hammering. The mix of relief and adrenaline left her tongue tied. Why does it feel like just him being here shields me from everything? she wondered, acutely aware of the heat of his presence, the steady rhythm of his chest, the faint brush of his arm against hers.
Vanessa, sensing the protective energy shift, tilted her head and let a mocking smile curl across her lips. "Oh, don't get me wrong," she called out, loud enough for cameras and a handful of contestants to hear. "Alexis's past is just… intriguing. Some might even say dangerous. Makes the game a lot more fun, doesn't it?" She let the sentence hang, a loaded seed that implied scandal, betrayal, and all the things Alexis wanted to bury.
Alexis felt the burn of humiliation rise to her face. She wanted to snap back, to defend herself, to make a witty comeback that would put Vanessa in her place—but every instinct told her to hold it together. Not just for the cameras, but for herself. I won't let her manipulate me. Not here, not now.
Dante stepped subtly closer, his presence both shield and spark. He didn't need to say anything; the protective air around him spoke volumes. He leaned just slightly, voice just above a whisper, meant only for her. "You okay?"
Alexis's lips twitched. "Trying to be," she admitted, though the admission felt like the tiniest crack in her armor. "I hate that this matters so much."
"It matters because it's unfair," he said, his tone soft but firm. "And because they're trying to corner you. But I've got your back. You don't have to face it alone."
A tiny spark of warmth traveled through her chest, mingling with the adrenaline. She realized she didn't feel entirely exposed—not while he was near, not while he was willing to stand beside her. It was a precarious feeling, a blend of gratitude, relief, and… something more complicated, something that made her pulse thrum in ways she hadn't expected.
Vanessa, of course, was not done. She leaned a little closer, her voice dripping faux sympathy for maximum camera effect. "Don't worry, Alexis. I'm sure you'll adjust. Everyone makes mistakes. And we all know how memorable yours can be." Her smirk was sharp, calculated.
Alexis forced a smile, shaking her head slightly, refusing to give Vanessa the satisfaction. But her mind was racing, cataloging every word, every glance, every nuance of the attack. She's trying to isolate me, make me feel small… play the cameras, play the others, play me.
Then, like a lifeline, Dante's hand brushed hers again—not deliberately romantic, just grounding—but Alexis felt it like electricity. She stole a quick glance at him. "I can't believe she's still doing this," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
"I can," he replied with a grin that was half teasing, half reassuring. "But you're stronger than you give yourself credit for. And I… am not letting her get to you."
The simplicity of his words, his unwavering focus on her in a sea of cameras and chaos, made something stir inside Alexis. It wasn't just relief—it was recognition that, even here, in this world of manipulated interactions and staged romance, there were still moments of authenticity, moments of connection that weren't scripted. And he—Dante—was one of those moments.
As Vanessa sauntered away, flipping her hair with perfect poise, Alexis let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her chest still ached, but it was a different ache now—a mixture of tension, longing, and cautious hope.
"See?" Dante whispered again, nudging her gently with his shoulder. "Not so bad."
Alexis laughed, a short, shaky sound that turned into a fuller laugh as she realized just how absurd and delicate this whole scenario was. "Not so bad, huh? Being sabotaged, humiliated, and mildly scandalized?"
He chuckled, the sound low and intimate, and she couldn't help but lean just slightly closer. "Exactly. Not so bad when I'm around, though, right?"
Her heart skipped, and she realized, once again, just how dangerously intertwined trust, attraction, and chaos could be. Even as Vanessa's scheming continued in the background, even as rumors and cameras and jealous rivals closed in, there was a rare clarity in that small, protective presence beside her.
For the first time that day, Alexis felt capable. Capable of surviving the show, capable of navigating scandal, capable of standing in her own power—and maybe, just maybe, capable of letting herself feel something beyond the cameras.
Dante caught her gaze, subtle sparks of affection passing between them, unspoken but undeniable. It was a fleeting moment of intimacy in a world designed to manipulate, control, and expose. And Alexis, heart still hammering in her chest, allowed herself to bask in it for just a second.
Because no matter what the rivals schemed, no matter how high the stakes of cameras and tabloids, in that heartbeat of connection, she knew one thing for certain: she wasn't alone. And with him by her side, even the most vicious sabotage felt just a little less terrifying.
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