บททั้งหมดของ Rewinding My Reaper Boyfriend: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

The "Private Terrace" was located on the roof of the West Wing, overlooking the sprawling, manicured gardens of the estate. Under normal circumstances, it would have been romantic.Under Mira Kovari’s supervision, it was a film set.Elion stood in the doorway of the balcony, adjusting the collar of his dress shirt. It was itching. Everything about this situation was itching."You look like you're walking to the gallows," Cale said from behind him.Elion turned. Cale was wearing a suit. Not the borrowed production wardrobe, but his own—a charcoal three-piece that looked vintage, tailored to within an inch of its life. He didn't look like a contestant. He looked like a 19th-century poet who had wandered into a modern nightmare."I feel like I'm walking to a performance review," Elion muttered. "Do I look okay? Or do I look like a nervous wreck disguised as a bachelor?"Cale stepped closer. He reached out and straightened Elion’s tie, his fingers brushing against Elion’s throat. The touc

The "Budget Mission" was supposed to be educational.Mira Kovari stood at the head of the conference room table, flanked by two serious-looking men in suits who were introduced as "Financial Consultants." The table itself was covered in ledgers, fake credit card statements, and stacks of Monopoly money."Love is grand," Mira announced, pacing back and forth like a shark in a fishtank. "But divorce is expensive. The number one cause of relationship failure isn't infidelity. It's money."She slapped a stack of papers onto the table."Today, you are going to plan a life together. Mortgage. Loans. Groceries. Unexpected medical bills. You have two hours to balance a budget based on your current combined income. Go."Elion stared at the ledger in front of him.Current combined income.His income was negative four million dollars. His assets were zero. His credit score was a number so low it was practically subterranean."This is fun," Kieran drawled from across the table, flipping through h

The laundry room of the mansion was located in the basement, a stark contrast to the gilt-and-velvet excess of the upper floors. It was a utilitarian space of concrete floors, humming machines, and the cloying scent of industrial detergent.To Elion, it was paradise.It was the only room in the house that didn't feel like a stage set. It felt real. It felt like a Tuesday.He stood in front of a row of six washing machines, clutching a basket of dirty clothes. He was wearing his glasses, his hair was unstyled, and he was staring at the settings dial with the intensity of a bomb defusal expert."Cold wash," a voice said from the doorway. "Delicate cycle. Low spin."Elion didn't turn around. He recognized the cadence. He recognized the calm, unauthorized authority."I know how to do laundry, Cale," Elion said. "I've been washing my own clothes since I was twelve.""I know," Cale said, walking into the room. He set his own small basket on the folding table. "But you're holding a cashmere

The Green Room was buzzing with the post-breakfast high. Kieran was loudly recounting his culinary disaster to anyone who would listen, framing it as an avant-garde choice rather than incompetence. Mia was blotting a stain on her blouse with soda water, muttering about lawsuits.Elion sat in the corner, nursing a bottle of water. He watched Cale.Cale was standing by the craft services table, organizing the tea bags by caffeine content. He looked calm. He looked normal.But Elion knew better. He knew about the eggs. He knew about the specific salt ratio."Elion! Cale!" a production assistant shouted. "Individual interviews. Now. Elion in Booth A, Cale in Booth B.""Separation," Elion murmured, standing up. "Divide and conquer."Cale looked up. "It's standard interrogation tactics. Isolate the subjects. Compare stories.""We don't have a story, Cale. We have a breakfast.""We have a narrative," Cale corrected. "Stick to the truth.""Which truth? The one where you're a psychic chef, or

The local supermarket had been transformed into a gladiator arena.Cameras were mounted on the ends of aisles. GoPro cameras were strapped to the shopping carts. The fluorescent lights buzzed with a manic intensity that matched Mira Kovari’s smile as she stood by the automatic doors, holding a stack of envelopes."Welcome to the 'Domestic Bliss' Challenge!" Mira announced, her voice echoing over the store's PA system. "Love isn't just about candlelit dinners. It's about budgeting! It's about compromise! It's about arguing over which brand of toilet paper is softer!"She handed an envelope to each couple."Inside is fifty dollars cash," Mira said. "Your task: Buy a week's worth of groceries for two people. Healthy, balanced, and creative. You have forty-five minutes. The couple with the most nutritional value and the least waste wins the 'Date Night' card. Go!"Elion stared at the fifty-dollar bill in his hand.Fifty dollars. For a week. For two grown men.His chest tightened. The fami