Chapter 5 #3
"That," Chet corrected with obvious delight, "sounds like ratings gold.
" He straightened and tapped his tiny tablet against his palm.
"And at the finale—boom." He spread his arms dramatically.
"We reveal the truth. Secret romance montage.
The greatest love story in reality TV history.
" His voice grew theatrical again as he painted the picture.
"The Warlord who recognized his mate instantly but had to work to win her heart the old fashioned way.
The powerful alien warrior who had to woo his reluctant mate and prove himself worthy.
" His grin sharpened. "And the woman who walked away from a billionaire groom in front of hundreds of wedding guests. "
My stomach dropped.
"A real case of love at first sight."
I blinked at him. "Billionaire groom?" My voice came out sharper than I intended. "How did you know?"
Chet scoffed. "Of course I recognized him. Derek Sterling." He rolled his eyes dramatically. "You think the founder and CEO of one of the biggest companies on the planet gets married every day?" He shook his head in mock offense. "Honestly, I was insulted I didn't get an invitation."
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. The entire situation was so ridiculous I couldn't help myself. "Not my call," I said. "I would've invited you."
"Of course you would." He gave a satisfied nod. "Now the important part is that you pull this off." His finger pointed directly at me. "No making goo-goo eyes at your big beast. No one can know you're already in love with him."
"I'm not."
Chet just smiled. "We'll see."
Oh God. I didn't love Egon. I'd only just met him.
But Chet wasn't entirely wrong either. I had done exactly what he said—I'd walked away from Derek at the altar.
And not just in front of a handful of polite wedding guests.
The church had been packed. Billionaires.
Movie stars. Influencers. Tech founders whose companies ran half the internet.
I was pretty sure there had been actual royalty somewhere in the pews.
Most of the people on Derek's guest list alone had probably required their own security detail.
Meanwhile my side of the aisle had been…
small. A few coworkers. Two cousins who still lived nearby.
I'd invited less than ten people in total.
My parents were gone, and most of the extended family had drifted away over the years.
Still, the church had been full. Because Derek wasn't just some rich guy.
He was the kind of man who had world leaders on speed dial.
And I had left him standing at the altar.
Chet gave me a moment to process that little reality bomb.
I appreciated the breathing room. The ballroom buzzed around us while I tried to quiet the storm of thoughts spinning through my head.
Then I noticed Chet watching something over my shoulder.
His gaze slid past me toward the two Prillon warriors standing guard a few feet away.
There was a strange look on his face. Recognition. Amusement. Something else entirely.
The Prillons stood perfectly still, massive and silent, their attention sweeping the room in slow, methodical scans.
But there was definitely something unspoken in the air between them and Chet.
Something hot. Primal. Something that practically screamed about all the ways he was going to fuck their brains out later.
I recognized the expression immediately.
Egon had given me the exact same look upstairs.
"You good?" Chet shuddered, took a deep breath, as if centering himself, and tried to act casually.
I forced myself to nod. I had my hands full imagining what Egon might do to me later. I did not need to fill my head with anyone else’s activities.
"Good." He gave my shoulder a friendly pat and drifted away, already turning his attention toward the next contestant as if the entire situation had been nothing more than another piece of production logistics.
Across the ballroom, assistants began guiding the contestants into position.
A loose line formed near the enormous double doors that led into the larger ballroom where the introductions would take place.
I wandered over and slipped into place near the end of the line.
There didn't seem to be any real order to it.
Women shuffled forward as assistants gestured and whispered instructions.
The doors ahead stood partially open, and through the gap I caught glimpses of bright lighting and camera equipment waiting on the other side.
And Egon. He sat on an elevated platform inside the room.
On a throne. An actual throne. The massive chair looked like something carved from polished black metal and silver, its high back rising behind him like the seat of some alien king.
The lighting above the platform cast a golden glow across his broad shoulders and glitter-dusted chest, turning him into something almost mythological.
He looked exactly like what he was. A Warlord. Powerful. Dangerous. Completely out of place among velvet carpets and reality television cameras.
As if he felt my stare, his head lifted.
His gaze swept the room once… then looked through the crack in the door and locked on mine.
The connection hit like a physical thing.
His golden eyes held mine across the distance, steady and unblinking.
Just for a second—maybe two—but it was long enough to send a jolt of awareness through my entire body.
My breath caught. Heat curled low in my stomach.
And my body reacted in ways that were wildly inappropriate for a public ballroom full of cameras.
How could I be this turned on when he hadn't even really touched me yet?
"I don't know if I can do this," I murmured under my breath.
The words were mostly for myself. Because the moment I imagined standing here while dozens of women paraded past Egon—smiling, flirting, throwing themselves at him for the cameras—something dark and possessive twisted inside my chest. Especially one woman in particular.
Could I really stand here smiling politely while Jessica draped herself all over him?
"You could leave." The voice appeared beside me like a drop of poison in a glass of champagne.
I turned. Jessica stood at my elbow, her smile sweet enough to rot teeth. It didn't reach her eyes.
"If you don't think you can compete," she added smoothly.
"You wish." I looked her over deliberately. Perfect hair. Perfect makeup. Perfect body poured into a silver gown that probably cost more than my car. She stood with the relaxed confidence of someone who had spent her entire life being the most beautiful woman in the room.
Her gaze drifted back toward the ballroom doors. Toward Egon. The look in her eyes made my jaw tighten. She was studying him like a prize she fully intended to win.