Ava had been ready to call the gala a success—or, at the very least, a tolerable level of disaster—when Ethan, in his trademark overconfident fashion, grabbed the microphone and made an announcement that turned her stomach into a freefall.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Ethan began, his grin wide enough to rival the Cheshire Cat's, "to close out this extraordinary evening, we've decided to add a little excitement to the program."
Ava froze mid-step, her champagne glass hovering inches from her lips. "What is he doing now?"
Ryan, who had been trailing her with his usual air of amused detachment, groaned softly. "Whatever it is, I already know I'm going to hate it."
Ethan, oblivious to the growing sense of dread rippling through Ava, continued, "As you all know, matchmaking isn't just about intuition or algorithms. It's about courage, creativity, and—most importantly—competition. Which is why Ava Lee and I have decided to close out this evening with a friendly duel!"
