5. Jun-Kai Foster

~Kiara~

I acquired the production company.

The words were still ringing in my ears when Zane finally stalked off toward the main stage.

I didn’t chase after an explanation. I didn’t have the energy.

Instead, I turned the other way, toward the row of folding chairs near the equipment room, and dropped into one, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes.

That was where Tinsley found me.

She was supposed to be filming her own confessional but she peeled off from the group anyway and sat down beside me, close enough that our shoulders touched.

“You look like you just watched your own funeral,” she said.

“Close enough.”

“That good, huh.” She studied me for a second. “168 beats a minute, Thorne. You didn’t even try. Meanwhile Chloe barely broke ninety, and that girl was ready. You believe that? Contestant for one day and she walks into that seduction room like she’s rehearsed it in a mirror a hundred times.”

“Maybe she’s just confident.”

“Maybe.” Tinsley didn’t sound convinced. “I caught her whispering to one of the crew before we even walked the carpet. Real cozy about it, too. Like they already knew each other.”

She shrugged. “Probably nothing. Everyone’s got an angle in this house. I’ve just been paying attention to hers.”

Her phone buzzed in her lap, and this time I caught what was on the screen before she flipped it face-down.

There was no contact saved, just a string of numbers with a country code I didn’t recognise.

Her jaw tightened. “Anyway. Whatever you and the Bachelor have going on, it’s not nothing.”

“There’s nothing going on.”

“Sure.” She didn’t push, which somehow felt worse than if she had.

Her phone buzzed again, and this time she didn’t even glance at it.

She just sat there very still, like ignoring it took actual physical effort.

“Some people,” she said quietly almost to herself, “don’t understand the word no.”

“Tinsley?”

“Forget it.” She stood so fast the folding chair scraped against the floor.

Whatever had cracked open in her face a second ago sealed shut again.

“Watch your back tonight, Thorne. Some of these girls don’t lose well.” She paused. “And for what it’s worth… neither do some of the people I know.”

She didn’t wait for me to ask what that meant.

She was already walking while her phone was clutched so tight in her hand her knuckles had gone pale.

She was walking toward the far end of the villa where the cameras didn’t reach.

Word had apparently spread fast that the girl in the plain green dress; no sequins, no plunging neckline, nothing borrowed from a stylist had somehow blown every other contestant out of the water.

By the time I made my way back toward the main lounge to collect my things, I could hear them before I could see them.

“She isn’t even all that beautiful… why would his heart rate go that high?”

“Are you sure she didn’t threaten him with a pistol and we just didn’t see it?”

“—It has to be rigged. There’s no other explanation.”

Ridiculous.

I stopped just outside the doorway, out of sight, and let it wash over me.

I was two seconds from walking in and telling all of them exactly where they could shove their opinions when a production assistant rounded the corner.

What a saviour.

“Kiara! There you are.”

She was slightly out of breath. “You need to come to the lounge right now. Someone’s asking for you.”

“Who?”

“You’ll see.” She was already turning.

I followed her through the doorway, straight into the mockery I’d just been listening to from the hall.

A voice cut through the lounge before I’d even fully stepped inside.

It was low and calm. It was the kind of voice that didn’t need volume to command a room.

“That is enough.”

Every whisper died at once.

I leaned around the doorframe to see who’d managed to silence a room full of reality TV contestants with three words, and my stomach dropped straight through the floor.

A tall man in a tailored white linen suit stood just inside the lounge.

His dark hair was combed back and his sharp elegant features settled into the kind of stillness that made everyone else look like they were fidgeting.

I knew him.

“Miss Thorne is a highly respected health professional,”

Jun-Kai Foster said, and though his voice barely rose above conversational, it carried to every corner of the room.

He hadn’t even turned to see me yet he was still facing Chloe, who had gone the colour of chalk.

“I don’t care what she wore, or that some of you can’t stand losing to a woman who wasn’t even trying.

If I hear another disrespectful word about Miss Thorne on this property, you will be removed from the show before the sun rises tomorrow.”

The colour drained from more than one face.

Chloe looked like she wanted to disappear into the wallpaper.

Then Jun-Kai turned, and his eyes found mine in the doorway.

Whatever authority had been in his voice a second ago melted instantly into something warmer.

He crossed the room stopping directly in front of me.

Up close, he looked exactly like I remembered…

“It has been a long time, Kiara.”

His dark eyes softened. “I have been looking for you. I am glad you are here.”

“Jun-Kai.” I could barely get the name out. “What are you…how are you here?”

“I had something to do here.” He said. “For what it’s worth, I watched the seduction challenge. You did incredibly well.”

Across the lounge, I felt it before I saw it…

I felt someone staring deeply at the back of my head.

I turned around slowly and saw him.

Zane was standing near the far wall while a production assistant tugged uselessly at his sleeve to get him toward the stage.

He wasn’t moving.

His grey eyes were locked on Jun-Kai’s hand, which had settled barely, just barely against the small of my back to guide me forward.

Zane’s jaw clenched.

His knuckles, I noticed, had gone white around the water bottle he was holding, like he was one second from crushing it.

I looked away first. I didn’t owe him an explanation. I didn’t owe him anything.

Jun-Kai walked me straight past the row of stunned girls and delivered me personally into Mateo’s waiting arms outside the lounge, as if I were something fragile that required careful handling.

His assistant followed.

“Take care of her, manager,” he told Mateo.

He then nodded at his assistant who then handed Mateo, a garment bag. “That is for Kiara.”

He then turned back to me, his gaze lingering half a second too long. “This is just a token of my appreciation. I hope you love it.”

I wasn’t even given a chance to reject him when his phone rang and he said, “We will speak again, Kiara. Take good care of yourself,” before he left.

Immediately he left, seeing Mateo’s expression I had to explain.

“His sister was my patient,” I said, pressing my palms into my eyes. “Months ago, she was lost and had a broken leg. I took care of her and reunited her with her brother… I never imagined he was…this.”

“Kiara, that is Jun-Kai Foster. As in Foster Global. As in the actual sponsor writing the checks for this entire show.”