Isla's POV
Someone was beating on my door at seven in the morning, and I knew it meant trouble.
I hadn't slept after the phone call with Derek. I'd sat at my kitchen table all night, staring at bills and trying to convince myself I hadn't just made the worst choice of my life.
The pounding got harder.
"Isla! Open up! I know you're in there!"
Thomas. My boss. The last person I wanted to see right now.
I opened the door, and he pushed past me without asking. He was carrying a folder and wearing a suit, which meant he was serious. Thomas only wore clothes when money was involved.
"You called them," he said. Not a question. An accusation.
"I needed the money."
"Without telling me first?" He slammed the briefcase on my kitchen table, right on top of Diana's hospital bills. "I'm your boss, Isla. You don't make career choices without me."
"I don't have a job. Remember? You told me that last month."
Thomas's face went red, but he didn't argue because we both knew it was true. I hadn't booked a real job in two years. The last audition I went to, they told me I was "too controversial" before I even read lines.
"This show could change that," Thomas said. He opened his bag and pulled out a thick stack of papers. "But only if you do it right."
"What's that?"
"Your deal. The real one." He dropped it in front of me. "Derek sent me the offer last night after you called him. I've been up all night reading through it."
I picked up the first page. The words were all formal and confusing, but one number jumped out at me: $100,000.
"It's real," I whispered.
"It's real. But there's a catch." Thomas sat down across from me. His face was serious in a way that made my gut hurt. "They don't want you to find love on this show, Isla. They want you to destroy it."
"What?"
He flipped through the pages until he found a part highlighted in yellow. "Right here. You're not a contestant looking for love. You're the enemy. Your job is to destroy other people's relationships. Make them fight. Make them cry. Make America hate you."
I read the part. Then read it again. The words didn't change.
"They have a script," Thomas added. He pulled out another stack of papers. "Scenes you have to play. Fights you have to start. They've even planned which couples you'll target first."
My hands started shaking as I looked through the script. Week One: Interrupt lovely beach date. Spill wine on chosen sweetheart. Make jealous comments to cameras. Week Two: Steal private moment with leading male lead. Create love triangle. Act desperate and cunning.
"This is insane," I said.
"This is reality TV." Thomas leaned back in his chair. "It's all fake, Isla. Every word. Every tear. Every rose ritual or whatever they do. The producers decide who falls in love, who gets removed, who becomes the hero and who becomes the villain."
"And they want me to be the villain." "They need you to be the villain. Every good story needs one." He pulled out his phone and showed me a news story. "Last season's character got death threats. People threw drinks at her in places. She couldn't go anywhere without guards."
"Then why would I do this?"
"Because last season's villain also got offered three movie roles, a book deal, and her own reality show." Thomas put his phone down. "Bad attention is still attention, Isla. And in this business, attention is everything."
I thought about Melissa Hart at the restaurant last night. How she didn't even remember my name. How I used to be somebody, and now I was nobody.
"Everyone already hates me," I said quietly. "Might as well get paid for it."
Thomas smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile. "That's my girl. Now, there's one more thing you should know before you sign."
My stomach dropped. "What?"
"They didn't tell me who else they cast. It's some big secret for ratings. But I did some digging, and Isla..." He paused. "Jesse Moreno is going to be on this show."
The room started spinning.
"No," I said. "No, no, no. That's not possible."
"It's proven. He signed on three months ago. He's the big male lead—the one all the women are supposed to fight over." Thomas watched my face carefully. "And according to your script, you're supposed to target him first."
Jesse. My Jesse. The boy I loved and left and ruined. The man whose heart I broke to save his future.
"I can't do this," I whispered.
"You already called Derek. You already said yes." Thomas pushed the contract toward me. "And Diana needs that treatment in three weeks, not three months. This is the only way, Isla."
He was right. I knew he was right. But my hands wouldn't stop shaking.
"What if he hates me?"
"He probably already does. You ghosted him three years ago, remember?" Thomas pulled out a pen. "But that's good for the show. Real drama is better than manufactured drama. The cameras will eat it up."
I picked up the pen. It felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.
"Sign page twelve, page thirty-seven, and page fifty-eight," Thomas said. "Initial every other page."
I flipped to page twelve. Started to sign. Stopped.
"What happens if I don't follow the script?"
Thomas's face went hard. "You pay back the full fee plus a two million dollar penalty for breach of contract. And they'll sue you for harm to the show."
Two million dollars. Money I'd never have. Money that would destroy what was left of my life.
I signed page twelve. Then thirty-seven. Then fifty-eight. My signing got messier with each page, like my hand knew this was wrong even if my brain said I had no choice.
"Welcome to 'Love in the Spotlight,'" Thomas said when I ended. He gathered the papers and put them back in his bag. "Car picks you up at noon. Pack for six weeks. And Isla?" He stopped at the door. "Whatever you and Jesse had before? It's dead. You killed it. So don't get confused when you see him. This is just a job. Nothing more."
He left.
I sat alone in my apartment, looking at my shaking hands.
In five hours, I'd see Jesse again. In five hours, I'd have to pretend to destroy him on TV while knowing I'd already destroyed him in real life.
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.
"One more thing we forgot to say in your contract. Jesse doesn't know you're coming. We wanted his response to be genuine. See you soon, Isla. This is going to be great TV."
My blood went cold.
Jesse didn't know. He was walking into this blind. And when he saw me, when he understood what I'd agreed to do, he'd finally know the truth.
That I was exactly the monster everyone thought I was.
And this time, I couldn't even blame the cut.