Chapter 5: She and I Are in the Same Group

Everyone turned to look.

Sebastian stood up. He walked toward Eva at an unhurried pace and stopped in front of her.

He was taller than he looked on TV. When his gaze landed on Eva's face, she felt like she was being scanned by a precision instrument. Not sizing her up — assessing her.

"She's with me," he said.

Not a question, not an invitation. A statement.

Eva heard Ivy sharply inhale behind her. She felt Liam's burning stare drilling into her back. She saw Cole's eyes go wide with disbelief.

Good.

Eva lifted her head and met Sebastian's dark eyes, the corners of her mouth curving slightly.

"Ok."

Marcus muttered under his breath, "Damn it. This is exactly what a reality show should be."

The cameras went crazy trying to get shots of the two of them. And at the very edge of Eva's peripheral vision, Ivy's face had gone white — as white as that goddamn dress of hers.

That evening, Eva and Sebastian were assigned the largest master bedroom on the second floor of the manor.

There was only one bed in the room.

One goddamn, oversized, king-sized bed.

Ivy stood in the middle of the living room. She had just been turned down by Sebastian on camera in front of everyone, and the carefully maintained composure on her face was slowly crumbling.

But she recovered fast. Fast enough that Eva almost had to admire her.

"Then I'll take Liam."

Ivy's voice went soft again, carrying a breezy, unbothered ease. She turned to Liam and tilted her head slightly.

"Liam, would you be my partner? We've known each other for a long time. I think we'd work really well together."

Liam stood where he was, his gaze going straight past Ivy and landing on Eva.

Eva didn't look at him.

"...Sure." Liam's voice came out rough.

Marcus let out a whistle beside them. "Not bad, not bad — Hollywood's rising leading man paired with everyone's sweetheart. The audience is going to eat this up."

Ivy looped her arm through Liam's and glanced over at Eva with a smile.

Eva knew that look all too well. It said: See that? The things you don't want, I can pick up without even trying.

Too bad she didn't know — that was Eva's trash she was picking up.

The rest of the pairings wrapped up quickly.

Tiffany got paired with Cole. Neither of them looked thrilled about it, but the options were limited.

The last pair was Julian and Nadia.

Once the pairings were done, Marcus clapped his hands.

"Starting now, there are no nannies, no housekeepers. Everything in this manor — cooking, cleaning, laundry — you handle it yourselves. First task: deep clean. Each pair gets an area. You have two hours to finish."

He pulled a few folded slips of paper from his pocket.

"Draw lots for your area."

Ivy drew the living room. Eva drew the basement and garage.

Amelia frowned and leaned close to Eva. "The basement area is three times bigger than the living room, and way dirtier. The crew left a ton of props down there..."

Eva glanced over at Ivy.

She was looking down, adjusting her gloves, a barely-there smile tucked at the corner of her mouth.

Drawing lots. Totally random.

"Let's go." Sebastian stood up and looked toward the basement stairs.

"You don't have to come," Eva said. "I can handle it myself."

He didn't answer. He just walked straight toward the stairs.

Eva followed.

The basement was worse than Amelia had described. The dust was thick enough to write in, and the corners were packed with discarded light stands and rusty metal frames. The air smelled damp and musty.

Metal frames. Rust.

A sharp phantom pain flared in Eva's abdomen, and a flash of that abandoned factory crossed her mind.

She took a deep breath and pushed it down.

That was all in the past. Or rather — it hadn't happened yet. And she wasn't going to let it.

Eva grabbed a broom and got to work. No complaining, no fussing. Eighteen years of life on her own had taught her too much. Like how to scrub every corner of a three-hundred-square-foot rental until it gleamed. Like how to get the most done in the least amount of time.

Sebastian didn't say anything. He took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and started moving the heavy light stands.

He worked efficiently, no wasted motion. This billionaire who had shown up in a Koenigsegg was more capable at manual labor than half the production crew.

An hour later, the basement was clean enough to reflect light.

When they came back upstairs, they ran straight into Ivy coming out of the living room. She was wearing a white T-shirt with a faint smudge of dust on it — just noticeable enough on camera to look like she'd been working hard.

Liam was behind her, holding a mop. The moment he saw Eva, he set it down and came after her.

"Eva, can I talk to you? Just five minutes."

"No."

"Please. You can't even give me five minutes?"

"Liam," Eva stopped and turned around, "are you begging me on camera because you want the audience to think you're devoted, or because you want me to think you're devoted?"

He froze.

"Either way, don't bother."

Eva walked away. Behind her, Liam stood rooted to the spot like a post driven into the ground.

At three in the afternoon, things went sideways.

Eva was coming out of the kitchen with water when she heard a loud bang around the corner of the hallway, followed immediately by Ivy's scream.

Eva went to look. Ivy was on the floor, a puddle of water beside her, a mop lying nearby. She was clutching her ankle, tears already streaming down her face.

Cole was the first one to rush over.

"Ivy! What happened?!"

"I... I slipped," Ivy looked up, eyes wet and glassy, and turned toward Eva. "There was water on the floor... I don't know who left it here..."

She didn't name anyone. She never did. She only had to point the direction — someone else would always say the rest.

Sure enough.

Cole stood up and fixed his gaze on Eva, his expression going cold. "Eva, did you do this?"

"Did you see me do it?"

"You just came from this direction!"

"I came from the kitchen. To get to the kitchen, you walk through this hallway. Everyone in this manor walks through this hallway."

Cole pressed his lips together. He knew Eva was right, but instinct put him on Ivy's side.

Eighteen years of habit. Stronger than logic.

"Ivy doesn't lie!" He raised his voice.

"Right," Eva said coldly. "Eighteen years, and she's never lied in front of any of you."