Chapter 6: Plowing the Beach in High Heels?

Just then, Tiffany wandered over, eyes lit up as she watched the commotion. Liam followed close behind Ivy, his face tight with tension, unsure which side to take.

Amelia walked over from a distance. She glanced at the wet patch on the floor and frowned, yet said nothing.

The atmosphere was turning increasingly ugly.

"Pull up the hallway surveillance footage. That’ll settle everything."

The voice came from the stairwell. Sebastian leaned against the handrail, holding a bottle of mineral water in his hand, looking on as if watching a lackluster game.

"The production team installed cameras in every public area of the estate." He glanced up at the round lens tucked in the corner of the ceiling, his tone utterly calm. 

"There are at least two cameras right here in this hallway. Play back the recordings, and we'll know exactly who spilled the water, and the exact time it happened. Every detail will be crystal clear.”

A hush fell over the hallway.

Tears still streaked down Ivy's cheeks, but she had stopped crying.

Cole opened his mouth, yet no words came out.

After three seconds of silence, Ivy wiped her tears with her sleeve and forced a smile. “Forget it… It was probably just an accident. Someone must have done it by mistake. I'm fine. No need to check.”

She rose to her feet and limped away.

No more checks. Of course not.

After all, the sordid truth stung far worse than a simple fall.

Cole stared at Ivy's retreating figure, then glanced at Eva, before looking away and hurrying after her.

Only Eva and Sebastian remained in the hallway.

He screwed the cap back onto his water bottle, said not another word, and headed upstairs.

Eva watched his figure vanish around the bend of the staircase. She knew full well: this man had not come to help her. He simply could not stand foolish antics.

It was ten o’clock at night, and the lights across the estate were switched off one by one.

Eva pushed open the master bedroom door. That oversized bed, fitted with white linen sheets, looked jarringly out of place in the dim light.

Sebastian was already inside. Having changed into a black T-shirt, he sat on the sofa by the window, scrolling through his phone.

Eva walked toward him.

He lifted his head.

"I'll take the sofa," Eva said.

"I got here first,"he replied.

Their gazes locked.

"You take the bed," he offered.

"You do."

Another three seconds of quiet hung between them.

He stood up. Eva thought he was going to head for the bed, but instead he fetched an extra blanket from the wardrobe and tossed it down on the far end of the sofa.

"It's big enough. We can split it."

Eva looked down at the sofa. It was indeed spacious — a three-seater L-shaped sectional.

"We'll sleep with our heads facing opposite directions," she said.

"Fair enough."He lay down, his long legs propped over the armrest, and closed his eyes. Within three seconds, his breathing slowed into a steady rhythm.

Eva settled down at the other end and pulled the blanket tight around herself.

The twenty-one-day survival challenge has only just begun.

Early the next morning, the show’s loudspeakers jolted everyone awake.

It was Beach Day.

Standing on the sand with a megaphone, the director announced the rules. “You five teams will prepare dinner on your own today. We'll only provide raw ingredients. Figure out how to cook and who does the work amongst yourselves. No private chefs — you're on your own.”

Groans rippled through the crowd. These privileged young men and women, who barely set foot in a kitchen on ordinary days, were clearly caught off guard by the task.

Eva stood at the edge of the group, dressed simply in denim shorts and a white camisole, wearing cheap flip-flops that cost just a few dollars. The sea breeze felt refreshing against her skin.

Just then, exaggerated gasps erupted behind her.

"Oh my goodness, Ivy, you look absolutely stunning!" Tiffany covered her mouth dramatically.

Eva turned around.

Ivy was walking down the wooden boardwalk from the villa. She wore a floor-length couture gown in champagne, its skirt studded with tiny diamonds that glittered brightly under the sun. Most absurd of all, she had on stiletto heels at least ten centimeters tall.

Dressed like this for the beach?

Eva raised an eyebrow.

Every camera instantly swiveled to focus on Ivy. She basked in all the attention. Holding her head high and wearing her signature sweet, perfect smile, she stepped slowly toward the sand.

She took her first step onto the beach.

Click.

The ten-centimeter stiletto sank deep into the soft sand without a trace.

Ivy lurched forward wildly, flailing her hands in the air and nearly face-planting into the sand.

"Eep!" she let out a delicate cry, her face draining of color at once.

Several people nearby couldn't hold back and burst out laughing.

Ivy bit her lip and tried to pull her foot free, but the heel was stuck fast. The harder she struggled, the more unsteady she became. She looked every bit like a flamingo floundering in mud.

She scanned the crowd, searching for someone to help.

Julian stood two meters away and started to step forward, but Ivy's gaze drifted past him and landed on another man.

Sebastian.

He was dressed casually today in a black tank top and dark gray board shorts. Even in such simple attire, his imposing presence was impossible to ignore. With his hands tucked into his pockets, he stared out at the ocean, not so much as glancing Ivy's way.

Ivy took a deep breath and put on a helpless, pitiful expression.

“Sebastian…” Her voice was soft and sugary sweet. “My heel's stuck, and my ankle hurts so bad… Could you please help me?”

The cameras zoomed in for a close-up shot.

Everyone held their breath, waiting to see how this powerful tycoon would respond.

Sebastian finally turned his head.

He raked his eyes over her from head to toe, pausing for two seconds on the high heels buried in the sand.

"A brain is a useful thing," he said in a low, flat tone. “Too bad you left yours at home.”

Silence fell over the scene in an instant.

Ivy's smile froze on her face. Her eyes welled up, tears swirling just beneath her lids.

"I…I just wanted to—"

"Wearing stilettos on the beach? Did you come here to plow the sand?" Sebastian cut her off sharply, giving her no chance to explain. "Didn’t the crew tell you this was a beach activity? Or do you think this sand isn't fancy enough for your shoes?"

Loud laughter broke out from the onlookers.

Amelia tugged at Eva's arm and whispered, "Wow, he does not hold back. I'm kind of loving it."

Eva watched Ivy's pale, flushed face, feeling a surge of delight inside her.

This was the man Ivy had tried so hard to charm. How does it feel now?

Trapped between two worlds, Ivy stood rooted to the spot. Tears finally streamed down her cheeks. "I just wanted to look nice… I'm sorry…"

She turned to Julian, silently begging for help. "Julian…"

Julian immediately hurried over, his heart aching for her. He steadied the unsteady Ivy, then shot an angry glare at Sebastian.

"That's going too far! She's just a girl. There's no need to speak to her like that!"

Sebastian did not even spare him a glance. He simply turned and headed toward the beach volleyball area.

Being brushed off like this left Julian looking furious. He frowned as he checked Ivy's foot. "Stop crying. I'll help you back to change your shoes."

"Wait a minute." Eva spoke up suddenly.