When the contestants had finished their nap and freshened up, the third guest finally arrived—sobbing.
As soon as she walked in, she was completely but theife stream had already ended.
> [Lyla's Side Livestream Comments]
[Oh my gosh, did you SEE Lyla's face when Milo asked if she joined the show because she needed fame? 😂]
[Let's be real. She totally came crawling back because her influencer career flopped.]
[Tsk. That question hit too hard—I kind of pity her.]
[Girl left at her breaking point, started vlogging, and thought becoming an influencer would fix everything. Now she's back? Embarrassing.]
[Come on, maybe she just missed her past. Everyone deserves a second chance.]
[I don't care what y'all say. She looked like she was about to cry, and it was painful to watch.]
---
Cut to: Mia's Side
The camera panned to a private room inside an upscale restaurant where Mia and Mike sat calmly. Neither of them looked up as the cameraman and the show's host, Flex, entered.
Mike peeled shrimp and gently placed it on Mia's plate. Mia, without missing a beat, placed scallops on his.
Flex coughed awkwardly, hoping to catch their attention.
> "Why don't you sit down?" Mia said coolly, eyes still on her plate.
Flex blinked at the tone, then sat.
> "Seems like you two are enjoying quite the feast," he said with a forced laugh. "Is this your breakfast? Why restaurant food? Isn't home-cooked food better for kids? I bet your son wants his mom's cooking."
Mia raised an eyebrow. "Oh, but I can't cook," she said bluntly, putting a shrimp in her mouth.
> "The nanny didn't show today," Mike added, calmly slicing his steak. "So we're eating home food at a restaurant."
Flex blinked again, thrown off.
> "Then why not learn to cook, Mia? I'm sure you'd do it just to make your son smile, right?"
Mike slowly put his fork down.
> "But I've tasted her cooking already. It's... fine. Basic. Why settle for that when I can eat five-star meals made by professionals?" he said gently. "Besides, why waste time learning to cook when we can use that time for something better? You're hungry, right? My mom does charity. You can eat with us."
Mike politely served a piece of steak onto Flex's plate. The camera zoomed in on Flex's frozen smile.
> "...Then I won't hold back," Flex muttered and took a bite.
> "I've heard things," he suddenly said. "Is it true? Are you a mistress? Is that why you look down on cooking?"
Mia looked up at him, her gaze cool and deadly.
> "And have you ever seen a mistress with her own clothing brand? One who writes songs international companies are begging to license? One who's a model, singer, and investor?" she asked, tapping her plate with her spoon. "Multi-talented... like me?"
Mike straightened up, glaring now.
> "Don't call my mom that again." His voice trembled as he looked down, pressing a hidden button under the table. "Stop lying about her."
Suddenly, security, the manager, and several staff burst into the room.
Mike burst into tears, catching everyone off guard.
> "Why are you bullying my mom? She's not a bad woman! She has heart disease! The doctor said not to stress her, but you keep making her sad!" he wailed.
He hugged Mia tightly.
> "Mom, I don't want these eyes anymore if they make people hurt you!"
Mia coughed—and spat blood.
(The blood was from biting her tongue, but the effect was perfect.)
> "I should've never helped him. I didn't know his son would be the donor for my child. Now I'm hated, insulted... and he's gone. My son is blamed for my choices. Maybe it's better if I just disappear..." she whispered, voice shaky and eyes misty.
> "No, Mom! Please don't die!" Mike cried harder.
The crowd of staff gasped in horror and sympathy.
The manager and waitresses glared at Flex and the cameraman.
> "How could you bully a sick woman and a child just for ratings?"
Flex panicked. "Wait! I didn't—"
Mike knelt and hugged the manager's leg.
> "Don't scold big brother Flex. He's not bad. Mommy says they do this for money, and we shouldn't blame them. She says not to hate people who hurt us—because they're just... surviving."
The room fell silent. Even more hearts melted.
The staff praised Mia for raising such a kind son.
> "She's too soft... she needs to protect herself," they murmured.
Mia coughed again, clutching her chest. "I have to stay strong... for my son. He's all I have left after his father's death."
She pulled out her card to pay, looking pale.
Mike hugged her again as the manager glared at Flex.
> "You'll pay for everything," the manager snapped.
> "O-of course!" Flex stammered. "We'll cover it all!"
Dumpling floated around not visible to everyone expect Mia . Tsk drama queen,
Maria ghost floats as she looks at the scene of Mike and Mia playing them both winning heart to use against them
...
A luxury game console bought for Mike.
Toys, branded clothing, candy, amusement park tickets, mall shopping spree.
All paid by Flex and the camera crew, who couldn't refuse under Mike's teary-eyed stares.
Now sitting in a cozy café, Flex looked pale, wallet drained. Mike licked his lollipop, calmly playing with his new toy.
Mia set her teacup down and looked at Flex.
> "By the way, I saw the hotel name written on the gift. Is that the destination?"
> "Y-yeah," Flex answered weakly.
> "Oh," she said simply, sipping her tea
again.
🗨️ Livestream Comments Flood In
> [LMAO FLEX JUST GOT MILKED DRY ]
[This was a FLEXecution. RIP that wallet. ]
[Flex really bullied the wrong "mistress."]
[That wasn't a camera crew visit—that was a hostage negotiation with child tears. ]
[Mia really raised a king. Protect them both! ]
[Someone get Flex therapy AND a budget planner. Dude's broke.]
--------
The camera followed Ella as she opened the door, allowing the cameraman and announcer inside her modest living room. The announcer began asking questions, carefully slipping clues about the puzzle's location into the conversation. Ella, oblivious, rambled on without noticing the hints scattered in her answers. As darkness fell outside, her anxiety grew.
The announcer sighed, "Ella, we've given you the answer already. Think back to what we said. The hints are all there."
Ella bit her lip, shaking her head. Nothing clicked. The big hint the announcer dropped only made her more frantic.
Four hours later, the announcer delivered the final blow: "Ella, we've detected you owe us 15 marks."
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she burst into sobs.
—
Comments flooding the livestream:
"Is Ella for real? How do you not catch the hints? 😂"
"The announcer is clearly done with her, probably wants to yell 'read the room!'"
"Someone please teach Ella how to listen! This ain't rocket science."
"Cameraman looks like he wants to vanish into thin air. Same energy."
"Only three contestants introduced and already this much drama? Sign me up!"
"Mia and Mike are out here stealing hearts, Ella can't even solve a puzzle."
"Bro, Ella's so lost I think she needs a GPS just for the show."
"Announcer's patience is legendary, I'd have quit after 5 mins."
"Waiting for Ella to get a reality check but also low-key rooting for Mia and Mike."
"Who needs contestants when the drama's this good? Ella, you're a gift."
"Wish my idol was on this show, we need more queens like Mia, less confusion like Ella."
"Ella's crying over 15 marks? Girl, just pay up and move on! 😂"
"Can we get a cameraman commentary? He's definitely roasting Ella silently."
"Ella acting like the puzzle's a final exam she forgot to study for."
---------
The next day, a chime echoed through the hotel, waking all the contestants. They were summoned to the grand hall.
Mia and Mike walked in together, dressed in matching white satin nightgowns with adorable pink cat prints. Mia's gown hugged her curves while still looking effortlessly casual, and Mike looked like a pampered little prince straight out of a fairytale, lollipop already in hand and a sleepy but smug expression on his face.
"It seems we're all here," Aiden said with a grin, standing at the center of the hall in a relaxed pose. "Why don't we introduce ourselves? I'm Aiden, your very handsome and underpaid livestream host. And these are the three contestants with me. Let's get to know each other better."
"Well, I'm Lyla," said a tall woman with a graceful aura, linking arms with the man beside her. "And this is my husband, Adrian."
"I-I'm Ella…" a soft voice followed. Ella tucked her hair behind her ear. "I'm a dancer. A ballet dancer… and also a singer." She gave a small smile, clearly nervous.
Mia crossed her legs with elegance and lazily picked up her cup of tea. "I'm Mia. And this is my son, Mike."
Mike simply nodded, eyes still drowsy as he leaned on his mom's side, the lollipop back in his mouth.
Aiden clapped. "Well, today, we have two tasks. Since Lyla and Adrian won yesterday's challenge, they get to skip today's." He paused dramatically. "Now, here's the twist. From this moment on, everything you say or do will be livestreamed. Your movements, your expressions, your whispers, your side-eyes. Everything. Are you ready?"
Gasps and wide eyes followed.
"Why don't we head to the restaurant for breakfast, and your task will be given there," Aiden added, guiding them forward.
As the contestants started walking, Aiden turned to the camera, a mischievous smirk on his lips.
"I didn't tell them there are secret cameras planted everywhere," he whispered. "But it won't matter, right?" He winked, and the screen faded to black as the scene transitioned.
The morning sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the hotel restaurant, casting a soft golden glow over the sleek marble floors and velvet dining chairs. The air was filled with the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries. But the atmosphere was anything but relaxing.
Adrian stood at the head of the table, arms folded behind his back like a smug general about to send soldiers into battle.
"So, your task starts right now," he declared, flashing a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "This determines your stay here. Failure means you'll be downgraded to hotel staff for the day—yes, you'll be clearing plates and scrubbing bathrooms. Ready?"
The room tensed.
"You have three things to do. First up—solve this riddle." He paused theatrically, eyes flicking between Mia and Ella like a hawk choosing prey.
> "I run but I never walk.
I have a bed but never sleep.
I have a mouth but never eat.
What am I?"
"You have sixty seconds. If you don't answer—"
"River," Mike interrupted, lifting his head lazily from the table, his cheek still pressed against the back of his hand, long lashes fluttering like he had just awoken from a nap in heaven. His white pajama set with pink cat prints made him look like an angel who got lost on his way to art school.
Adrian blinked. "That's… correct."
Aiden clapped with dramatic flair. "Ladies and gentlemen, our tiny mafia prince just carried the team in ten seconds flat."
Everyone applauded. Ella clapped weakly, her smile strained. Mia, in contrast, simply raised her teacup and took a casual sip, her expression unreadable.
Adrian cleared his throat, visibly annoyed. "Well then, next challenge. A riddle again—but this time, it leads to an object hidden somewhere in the hotel. Only with that object can you continue. You have ten minutes."
Aiden handed each contestant a slip of paper. On it:
> "I have keys but no locks,
I have space but no room,
You can enter but not go outside.
What am I?"
Ella's brows furrowed. She bit her lip and began pacing, muttering under her breath like a stressed-out student before a final exam. Her camera operator had to backpedal to keep up.
Meanwhile, Mia and Mike strolled out like they were headed to brunch, the wind catching the hem of Mia's satin nightgown as they walked hand-in-hand. They made their way to the poolside and sat beneath a striped umbrella, the image of leisure. Mike resumed licking his lollipop. Mia took out her mirror and admired her own reflection.
As the clock ticked down to the final minute, Ella was still searching frantically in the lobby, yanking open drawers and even checking under flower pots.
Suddenly, Mia stood. Her heels clicked against the tiled floor with a deliberate rhythm. She made her way to the far corner of the lounge, knelt, and plucked a small bronze key taped beneath the piano lid.
She turned with a casual shrug. "The answer's a keyboard. And this," she held up the key with two fingers, "was taped to the hotel's grand piano. Too obvious."
The room froze.
Aiden dropped his croissant. Lyla's jaw fell open. The cameraman let out a "Damn."
Mike, without looking up, yawned. "She didn't even read the clue out loud."
Ella's eye twitched.
"Well!" Aiden clapped awkwardly. "Seems like Team Mia and Mike are on fire today. How's the rest of you feeling? No pressure."
The live chat exploded with comments:
"Not Ella pacing like she's solving world hunger 😭 girl, it's just a riddle."
"How can someone be this talented yet this dull? I'm genuinely crying 😭💀."
"Laughing Ella is giving 'main character in a horror game who never finds the clue.'"
"Mike just woke up, answered a riddle, and went back to slaying. Bro is literally hot when half-asleep 😩."
"Marry me, Mike!! IDGAF that you're in pajamas with pink cats. That's husband material right there 💍🐾."
"Why is Mia sipping tea while solving the whole quest like it's sudoku in a spa?"
"Mia and Mike be mother-son GOALS. Fire duo. Unbothered. Untouchable. Unmatched 🔥🔥."
"Ella really bit her lip, checked a flowerpot, and still missed the keyboard clue. I'm EMBARRASSED for her 😭😭."
"Lyla and Adrian look like background NPCs realizing the main quest ain't about them 💀💀."
"Imagine running for 9 minutes straight and some sleepy 14-year-old goes 'River' like it's nothing. I'd scream."
"Mom and son be breathing elegance and chaos at the same time 😩🔥."
"This ain't a variety show anymore. It's Mia and Mike's personal vlog and we're just watching."
"Ella, sweetie, you're beautiful, talented, and lost as hell 💔😂."
"Aiden, just go ahead and name this show 'Can Ella Catch Up?' We know who the stars are."
"The cameraman deserves a raise for keeping up with Laughing Ella and her clue-less marathon 😭💀."
---
In a high-security hospital, surrounded by armed guards, surveillance cameras, and advanced equipment—so tight even elite spies or assassins couldn't breach the gate—Damien sat upright on his bed, his torso wrapped in fresh bandages.
"Sir, we've placed a spy inside Marvin's mansion," his assistant reported. "He's ready to get us in contact with Miss Oliver."
Before Damien could reply, the ward door suddenly burst open. Daisy rushed in, her heels clacking sharply against the tile as worry painted her face.
"Oh my god, Damien, are you alright?" she cried out, hurrying to his side. "I hope you're not in too much pain."
"I'm fine," Damien replied calmly, his voice steady despite the chaos of recent events.
"Marvin is insane!" Daisy hissed. "He tried to have you killed—and to think I let him marry my friend! Now he's kidnapped her, and who knows what else he's planning. Damien… you have to save Oliver. Save Jake too. Especially now that she's in love with you."
Damien glanced at her, his expression unreadable. He lowered his gaze and repeated her words quietly, almost in disbelief.
"She loves me?"
Then he gave a small, bitter chuckle.
"Even if she doesn't… I'll still take her away from Marvin. He's not the man for her. He's poison." Damien's voice turned ice-cold, eyes burning with resolve. "If Marvin wants a war… then I'll bring it to his doorstep."
---