White stone, sparkling glass, a pool that practically glowed under the Spanish sun, and enough cameras to film a small war.

Ten contestants stood in a loose semicircle around the fire pit, all of them pretending they weren't scanning each other.

The producers had been very clear. Girls step forward for the man they wanted to couple up with. Boys choose from the girls who stepped forward.

Y/n stood between two girls she'd only met an hour ago, her heart beating faster than she'd ever admit.

The first boy stepped forward. Then the second.

And then Lorenzo Romano stepped into the sunlight, and the world seemed to tilt.

Six-foot-six. Dark hair. Green eyes. Tattoos curling up his forearms and disappearing beneath the collar of his white linen shirt. He looked like he'd been carved by someone who specifically wanted to ruin lives.

Four girls stepped forward immediately.

Y/n stayed exactly where she was.

She leaned toward the girl beside her, voice low.

Sienna: whispers back, grinning Not your type?

Y/n: whispers He looks like he charges people for breathing near him.

Sienna snorted.

And then, across the fire pit, Lorenzo's head turned.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

His eyes found Y/n's.

And for the first time since he'd walked into the villa, Lorenzo Romano smiled.

It was small. Barely there at all. But it was real.

The other contestants went silent.

The producers, hidden behind their cameras, collectively held their breath.

Lorenzo's voice carried across the fire pit, low and rough, with an accent that made the air feel heavier.

Every head turned to Y/n.

The cameras zoomed in.

Welcome to Paradise After Dark.