The producers waited until noon.
Just after lunch. Just when things felt calm.
Then the music hit.
Not the usual cheesy theme — this was different. Elegant. Classy. Almost cinematic.
Ren stepped into the living room with the others, drawn by instinct.
The front door opened on its own.
And there she stood.
Harper Rowe.
Sleek black boots. High-collared coat. Sunglasses despite the soft lighting.
She removed them slowly, revealing cool gray eyes and a face that didn't show a single emotion.
"Hello," she said.
Her voice was soft, accented. Polished.
"Sorry, I'm late."
Vanessa's posture straightened.
Naomi blinked once — just once — and Ren caught the tension behind it.
They knew her.
Ren didn't.
But he felt something shift in the room.
Harper walked in with the composure of someone who'd watched the first act from backstage and decided it was time to rewrite the script.
The host's voice echoed faintly:
"Surprise contestant number eight has arrived!"
Harper glanced at Ren.
"You don't remember me, do you?"
He shook his head slowly. "I… no. I don't."
She nodded.
"That's probably for the best."
She walked past him, perfume barely noticeable — clean, unplaceable.
Zoe let out a low whistle once she was out of earshot.
"Okay, well. I guess the boss stage just unlocked."
Brooke grunted. "What, they ran out of emotionally unstable girls and added a Bond villain?"
Naomi didn't say anything.
But her hands were balled into fists under the table.
And Vanessa?
She was still watching the door.
Not blinking.