Luna's POV
The taxi smelled like old cigarettes and broken dreams.
I clutched my mother's photograph in my pocket as we drove up a winding road toward what looked like a palace. Through the dirty window, I watched sports cars and limousines dropping off contestants who looked like they stepped out of magazines.
Perfect hair. Perfect teeth. Perfect lives.
Then there was me, arriving in a cab that coughed black smoke.
"This is it?" the driver asked, squinting at the mansion ahead. "Looks like one of those places rich people go to hide their money."
My stomach twisted. Mom's warning echoed in my head: Never trust anyone completely, baby girl.
"Yeah," I whispered. "This is it."
I paid the driver with crumpled bills - almost the last of my money - and stepped out. The mansion rose in front of me like something from a fairy tale. But I'd learned long ago that beautiful things in Hollywood usually hid ugly secrets.
Other contestants were already gathering by a giant pool. They laughed and hugged like old friends, even though they'd just met. Everyone looked so... clean. So untouched by real problems.
I picked up my beat-up suitcase and started walking toward the group. With each step, conversations stopped. People turned to stare. I heard whispers.
"Is that really her?"
"Luna Blake? I thought she was in jail or something."
"Why would they put HER on the show?"
My cheeks burned, but I kept walking. I'd survived ten years of this. I could survive one more month.
"Luna Blake!"
A woman with blindingly white teeth rushed toward me, followed by three cameras. Amanda Rivers, the show's host. She looked exactly like she did on TV - too perfect to be real.
"Hollywood's most talked about bad girl!" Amanda announced loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Are you ready to find love?"
The way she said "bad girl" made it sound like a disease. Around us, the other contestants stepped back like I might be contagious.
"Can't wait," I lied, forcing my biggest fake smile.
"Tell us, Luna," Amanda continued, loving the drama, "what made you decide to look for love on television?"
Because I'm broke and desperate, I thought. Because this was my only choice.
"Sometimes you have to try new things," I said instead.
Amanda laughed like I'd told the funniest joke ever. "Well, contestants, say hello to Luna! She'll definitely make this season... interesting."
The word "interesting" sounded like a threat.
As Amanda walked away with her camera crew, I found myself standing alone while everyone else formed little groups. They talked and laughed like I wasn't there. Like I was invisible.
I thought about my empty apartment and the eviction notice. At least here I had a roof over my head and food to eat. I could survive being ignored for fifty thousand dollars.
"Don't take it personally."
I turned around and saw a girl about my age with kind eyes. She was one of the few people not looking at me like I was poison.
"I'm Jade," she said quietly. "Jade Chen."
"Luna." I waited for her to make an excuse and walk away like everyone else.
Instead, she stepped closer. "I know what it's like to have people judge you before they know you."
Something about her voice made me think she really did understand. "Thanks," I said, surprised by her kindness.
"The pool party starts in an hour," Jade continued. "Stick close to me if you want. These people can be... sharks."
Before I could ask what she meant, a loud voice interrupted us.
"Welcome, beautiful people, to Love Island Luxury!"
A man in an expensive suit walked out of the mansion. Vincent Torrino, the producer. I recognized him from the entertainment magazines. He was older than he looked on TV, with silver hair and cold eyes that seemed to see everything.
"You are the most gorgeous, most dramatic, most entertaining group we've ever had!" Vincent announced. "This season is going to be unforgettable!"
Everyone cheered and clapped. I tried to look excited, but something about Vincent's smile made my skin crawl. It reminded me of the Hollywood executives who'd promised my mother the world, then destroyed her life.
"Now go get ready for tonight's welcome party," Vincent continued. "The cameras will be rolling, so bring your best drama!"
As the crowd scattered toward the mansion, I hung back. Something felt wrong. Vincent's eyes kept finding me in the crowd, studying me like I was a problem he needed to solve.
I followed Jade inside, trying to shake off my worry. Maybe I was being paranoid. Maybe Mom's death had made me suspicious of everyone.
But as we walked through the mansion's hallways, I noticed things that seemed strange for a dating show. Security cameras everywhere, even in corners where they couldn't film anything interesting. Men in suits who looked more like bodyguards than TV crew. Doors that were locked and marked "Private."
This place felt less like a TV set and more like a fortress.
An hour later, I stood at the edge of the welcome party, watching everyone else have fun. Music played. People danced. Drinks flowed freely.
I stayed in the shadows, remembering my job. I was supposed to start drama. Break up happy couples. Make everyone hate me.
But first, I needed to understand what I was really walking into.
I slipped away from the party and walked down a quiet hallway. Maybe I could find a phone to call Marcus. Ask him more questions about this place.
That's when I heard the voices.
Two crew members stood near a door marked "Production Office." They spoke in low, serious tones that didn't match the party atmosphere.
"The Blake girl," one of them said. "She's already asking too many questions."
My blood turned to ice. They were talking about me.
"Boss wants her gone by week three," the second man replied. "But make it look natural. Like the other contestants voted her out."
"And if she keeps snooping around?"
The first man's voice got darker. "Then we handle it the way we handled the others."
The others? What others?
"She won't be a problem much longer," the second man said. "Vincent's got everything under control."
I pressed myself against the wall, hardly breathing. They weren't just talking about eliminating me from the show. Something in their voices suggested something much worse.
Footsteps moved toward the door. I ran back toward the party, my heart pounding like a drum.
When I reached the pool area, I forced myself to act normal. I grabbed a drink and pretended to watch the other contestants flirt and laugh.
But my mind was racing.
Mom's warning suddenly made terrible sense. This wasn't just a dating show. Vincent Torrino wasn't just a TV producer. And I wasn't just here to play a villain.
I was here because someone wanted me gone.
The question was: gone from the show, or gone forever?
As I stood there in the beautiful mansion surrounded by beautiful people, I realized I might have walked into the most dangerous trap of my life.
And I had no idea how to escape.