Chapter 3: The Game Begins

A cold smile curved the corner of Eva's mouth. She picked up the wine glass from the table and raised it toward Sebastian on the TV screen.

The game had begun. Everything Ivy wanted, she would take with her own hands.

The next day, Eva went to the production company behind "The Estate". She needed to see her name on the contract.

This reality show spot — this time, it had to be hers.

She was holding her copy of the contract, finally feeling like she had something solid in her grip, when she spotted them at the end of the hallway.

Julian. Cole. And her goddamn dear sister, Ivy.

Of all the people to run into.

"Eva!" Ivy was the first to notice Eva, instantly switching on that wide-eyed innocent look. "Are you here to sign the contract too? Julian got me a spot as well — we can do this together!"

She moved to link arms with Eva. Eva stepped back, dodging her touch with barely concealed disgust.

"Is that so?" Eva looked at Julian, a mocking smile playing at the corner of her lips. "Must've been a lot of work, Julian. You went through all that trouble to push me out, and I thought maybe you'd come up short this time. But you pulled it off after all."

Julian's face went dark. "Eva, watch your mouth! You're not part of the Whitlock family anymore!"

Eva let out a cold laugh, her gaze sweeping between him, Cole, and Ivy.

"Honestly, having called you people family — it felt like swallowing a fly. One covered in shit."

Cole's face went white. He looked at Eva with guilt written all over him, lips parting, but not a single word came out.

Eva had no interest in staring at their faces a second longer. She turned and walked away.

She hadn't even made it out of the building when she saw the crowd gathered outside. Paparazzi. Fans.

She knew this scene all too well.

Liam's fans had cornered her before, screaming that she was a nobody actress with no shame, latching onto their idol for clout.

Ivy's fans had called her a home-wrecker, told her to crawl back to whatever slum she came from.

Eva didn't hesitate. She turned and headed for the back exit, called a cab.

The car merged into traffic. She leaned back against the seat, and the past crept up on her like a ghost.

The last time she'd been cornered like that, both Liam and Julian had been there. They'd stood to the side, cold and unmoved, watching as Eva got shoved, screamed at, and had cola thrown in her face.

Their silence had confirmed her guilt in everyone's eyes — and given her attackers the green light to go further.

But when a blurry photo of Ivy with some unknown man surfaced on the paparazzi circuit?

Julian had called a press conference on the spot, spinning the photo as "a brother protecting his frightened sister backstage."

Adrian had gone further — he'd used the full weight of the Whitlock Group to make every outlet that ran the story pull it within twenty-four hours.

A full-blown PR crisis, flipped into positive coverage.

That was the difference. That had always been the goddamn difference.

It only made Eva more certain she'd been right to walk away from that disgusting family.

The news of the show's air date dropped soon after.

Eva opened her social media. The comment section was a cesspool. Thousands of people cheering for Ivy, calling her a real-life princess.

Under Eva's name, the insults poured in — "get out", "bitch", "freak". And then came the rumors that she'd once worked as an escort.

Eva closed her phone, her face blank. She knew better than to trade insults with idiots online. This game had its own rules.

"The Estate" — five men, five women, one private manor, twenty-one days with no money, no connections, no resources.

Strip away the wealth and the elite status, and see who's left standing.

Reality TV cameras magnified every conflict. They didn't care whose family had more pull — they cared about ratings.

That was the only place where Eva had a real shot at putting them all beneath her.

A cold smile touched her lips. She made herself a promise: by the time the first episode aired, she would make Ivy crash and burn on national television.

On the day of filming, Eva was the first to arrive at the location — a stunning luxury estate right on the coast.

She wore a bright yellow dress, fresh makeup, and gave the camera her biggest smile.

Sunshine. Confidence. Nothing like the Eva who used to shrink into herself.

She needed the cameras to fall in love with her. She needed the audience to see someone completely new.

The other guests began arriving one by one.

First came Amelia Hawthorne, a popular actress, and Daniel Bennett, an investor.

Amelia was warm and friendly — she even recognized Eva, mentioning she'd watched a low-budget drama Eva had been in. Eva thanked her, and meant it.

But a singer named Tiffany Grant was a different story.

Tiffany looked Eva up and down with a dismissive smirk. "So you're the long-lost Whitlock daughter they dug up? Huh. You're… not much to look at. Not even close to Ivy."

There it was. Eva knew the type — someone looking to step on her for attention. Every reality show had one.

Eva smiled and looked right at her. "Tiffany, right? I recall you went viral last month. People claimed you gave the director oral sex in his office for career resources… Surely that's nothing but rumors, right?"

"What the hell are you—" Tiffany's face drained of color. She shot Eva a look that could cut glass.

Then a commotion broke out near the entrance.

Cole and Ivy walked in together. Ivy had her arm hooked through Cole's like she'd already won something — and behind them walked someone who turned Eva's stomach.

Liam.

Eva understood immediately. Another one of Ivy's little setups.

What was Ivy trying to do? Use Liam to get under her skin? Pathetic.

Eva felt nothing for a man she'd never actually loved.

Cole spotted her. Guilt flickered across his face. He hesitated, then walked over anyway.

"Eva," he said quietly, "if you just apologize to Julian, you can come home. Anytime."

"Come home?" Eva looked at him, her voice flat. "Cole, did you forget? Eighteen years ago, at that stupid amusement park, you lost me because you wanted another donut. And now you're asking me to come home with you? What gives you the right?"

The color left Cole's face completely. Guilt and pain twisted across his features. He stumbled back a step and couldn't find a single word to say.

The tension had just hit its peak when Julian strolled over.

Same arrogant posture as always — arms crossed, scanning the room like he owned it, until his gaze landed on Eva. He let out a cold snort.

Behind him was a tall, sharp-featured model. Her name was Nadia, a rising star on the runway circuit lately. She didn't say much, but her eyes were calculating.

Ten guests, and nine had arrived. Only one mysterious male guest was still missing.

Everyone was speculating about who it could be.

Then came the sound — a deep, raw engine roar, growing louder from a distance.

A black Koenigsegg drifted to a perfect stop at the estate gates. The door swung upward, and a man stepped out.

He had a face that was almost unfairly beautiful.

Everyone stared. Eva actually heard Ivy pull in a sharp breath.