Chapter 3

Miles away, on the other side of Los Angeles, the morning sun illuminated a luxurious, multi-level penthouse apartment.

Izaiah Cummings sat on a modern leather sofa, his eyes glued to the screenshot of Eleonora's 'like' on his phone screen.

A deeply smug, calculating smile spread across his young, handsome face.

His manager walked into the living room, carrying two mugs of black coffee. He handed one to Izaiah.

The manager rubbed his hands together, his eyes shining with greed. "The engagement metrics on this stunt are off the charts. The PR boost is way beyond what we projected."

Izaiah took a slow sip of the hot coffee. A dark, possessive hunger flashed in his eyes. "I'm going to use this momentum. I'm going to actually pursue her. Getting Eleonora Carlisle would make me untouchable."

The manager's smile vanished. His face paled slightly. "Don't play with fire, kid. The capital backing Eleonora is dangerous. You don't want to cross them."

The scene shifted instantly to downtown Los Angeles. The Carlisle Group headquarters, a towering monolith of glass and steel, pierced the smog-free sky.

Inside the top-floor office of the Legal Department, Brennan Kane stood perfectly still before the floor-to-ceiling window. He wore a flawlessly tailored, dark charcoal suit.

His sharp, cold profile was reflected in the glass as he looked down at the endless stream of traffic, viewing the city like a god looking at ants.

A soft knock sounded on the heavy mahogany door. His executive assistant pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The assistant respectfully held out a thick, black, hard-shell folder.

Brennan turned around. He took the folder. "Sir," the assistant spoke, his tone measured and strictly professional. "There is also a public relations matter concerning Ms. Carlisle that requires your immediate attention." The assistant then smoothly raised the tablet in his other hand. The screen displayed the entertainment news, showing the side-by-side paparazzi photos of Eleonora and Izaiah.

The temperature in the massive office seemed to plummet instantly.

A dangerous, highly aggressive glint flashed in the depths of Brennan's dark eyes. His jaw clenched, a muscle feathering along his cheek.

The assistant swallowed hard, feeling the physical weight of his boss's aura. "Sir, the background checks and the capital injection for the 'Love on the Line' production are fully complete."

Brennan's long, elegant fingers tapped a slow, rhythmic beat against the edge of his solid leather desk.

"Is she confirmed to participate?" Brennan asked. His voice was a low, resonant rumble that demanded absolute truth.

The assistant nodded quickly. "Yes. Her manager has given a firm verbal agreement."

Brennan gave a single, curt nod. He flipped open the black folder. He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a custom-made fountain pen.

He turned to the final page of the cast member confirmation agreement. Without a second of hesitation, he signed his bold, forceful signature on the dotted line.

The assistant stared at the signature, his mind reeling with shock. He could not fathom why this notoriously private, ruthless top-tier corporate lawyer was joining a trashy reality dating show.

Brennan tossed the expensive pen onto the desk. He turned his gaze back to the window, his eyes narrowing like a predator that had finally locked onto its prey.

Back in the Beverly Hills mansion, the sun had already begun to set, casting long shadows across the bedroom floor.

The bedroom door creaked open slowly. Maeve, Eleonora's personal assistant, tiptoed into the room.

She walked to the edge of the bed and reached out. She grabbed the tightly wound cocoon of blankets and shook it vigorously.

Eleonora let out a loud, irritated groan. She opened her eyes, a heavy scowl of sleep deprivation and anger on her face.

Maeve looked terrified. Her hands shook as she held up her own phone.

On the screen was the official social media account of Eleonora's agency. A new post had been published exactly five minutes ago.

It was a highly formal, legally binding public statement. It officially announced that Eleonora Carlisle was joining the cast of the reality dating show "Love on the Line."

The last remnants of sleep evaporated from Eleonora's brain. Her lungs hitched. She shot up from the mattress, her body rigid with absolute shock.