Page 5 of Twisted Promise

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Who counted? Not me, for sure. But it looked more like 3.5 seconds. Well, if you add how long he ran his eyes all over her body. It’s wild for someone to look so passionately at another without any sexual tension, especially when he’s that hot.

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Have to say, it’s fascinating and wholesome.

Anya felt the comments were going in a direction she did not want, so she quickly averted her eyes back to the interviewer, who said something moments ago.

“Since you joined late, this is your mission for tonight.”

She opened the pink envelope that was passed to her and scanned the contents with a small twitch in her finger.

Go shopping.

Nothing else was written on the pearlescent paper.

With no guidance, she went with what was most obvious: shop for items to help her blend in with the other participants. Her plain clothes weren’t inappropriate, but they screamed “lazy weekend” rather than “reality TV contestant.”

The confessional interview ended at the envelope, and the woman relayed a message from the director for Anya to meet the other participants.

The walk to where the guests congregated was too short for her liking. She wished the mansion was ginormous so she could avoid people longer. Though smaller than a traditional one, it was spacious enough to pass for a mini-mansion with a blend of modernity and cozy design.

Basically, it’s just a larger-than-average home.

“Are you going in or auditioning to be a doorman?”

The voice unsettled her. Clipped, impatient, and candid—worse than the darkened shadow plastered on the door, shrouding her in a murky embrace of anxious butterflies.

Her heart soared, humming a lithe melody through her racing veins, and it settled between the deck of emotions that had been shuffling since she saw him again.

“Anya.”

Chapter Two

__________

Alessio

Alessio was honest.

There was no point in sugarcoating words, sparing feelings, or pretending to fit within societal rules. His fans called him blunt, his haters labeled him as a barbarian, and neutral spectators thought he was rude.

Everyone was the same to him: they had a head, a nose, and a mouth. Eyes, though, were like rare gems because they couldn’t see how utterly irritated he was when forced to deal with them.

But he did remember Meryl, just enough minute details to prepare himself for the haughty, smug twist of her lips when she saw him on set.

If she wasn’t Anya’s friend, he would’ve scrapped her from his memories. Meryl’s protectiveness of Anya was unshakable, as was her distaste for him and his past relationship with Anya.

The feeling was mutual.

He couldn’t care less about her opinion as long as she stayed out of his way.

So when Meryl crossed her arms and tilted her chin in front of the rolling cameras, he knew what she wanted to say.

“You’re the last person I’d expect to see here,” she snarked with a laugh. “I wonder why…”

He didn’t know whether she was taking a jab at him or genuinely unaware, but he chose the latter. Something seemed to click in her mind before the muscle on her cheek twitched.

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