Chapter 142

Jonathan replied coldly, "No, even if they send an invitation, I wouldn't go." His voice was serious, lacking its usual warmth.

Nina, though a little disappointed, said, "Yes, Mr. Bennett, you're so busy. I was just overthinking." She continued, "Should I still join this show, Mr. Bennett?"

"Quit," Jonathan replied instantly.

"But the penalty for breaking the contract is in the eight-figure range," Nina said.

"You don't need to worry about that. I'll handle it with the production team." Before he finished, Jonathan received an email from Jason. The timing was oddly coincidental, raising his eyebrow.

He opened the email: an invitation to a reality show, lacking details—not even the show's name or rules, only a guest list. Eight names were listed, including Nina's. His own name was last. He also noticed a familiar name: Cynthia Jones.

He thought, "Why is Cynthia here?" He glanced aside: Preston's name was next to Cynthia's, impossible to ignore.

Jonathan's eyes deepened, like a bottomless pool. He wondered: Why did the show invite Cynthia? Why is Preston participating? What is Whitney up to this time? Even with his considerable intellect, Jonathan couldn't figure it out.

"Mr. Bennett… Mr. Bennett… are you still there?" Nina's voice, cutting through the phone, snapped Jonathan back to reality.

His mind had raced, analyzing countless possibilities. A brief surge of emotion—like a tsunami—had swept through his heart, but now calmness had returned.

"Nina, you can join the variety show," Jonathan said calmly. Nina was surprised. Moments ago, he'd been so firm. Why the change in less than two minutes?

Jonathan continued, "I just received an invitation from the show's producers; I'll be going too."

Nina was momentarily stunned, but warmth and joy quickly followed. "Alright, Mr. Bennett, see you tomorrow."

Nina felt excited. Though Jonathan had always been her protector, they rarely met, especially in recent years. Everyone knew Nina was the apple of Jonathan's eye, but only she knew their relationship was close yet distant, a source of frustration. Now, grown up, she wanted to bridge that gap.

That night, the show's official website announced the new reality series. Guest names were withheld; silhouette photos fueled online speculation:

[Devil's Island Escape? A dating show? What kind of audience-friendly dating show is called Devil's Island Escape?] [A new reality show by Jason? The one who made five smash-hit seasons of Escape? Now he's doing a dating show?] [I feel like Jason can't create a normal dating show, but I'm kind of curious.] [Why does the silhouette of the first guest look so much like Ethan?] [No way. Ethan is a big-screen actor; such a high-profile person would never join a show like this.] [To be honest, I think guest number two looks a bit like Jessie.] [If the show manages to invite both Ethan and Jessie, I will lose forty pounds and earn a million dollars this year.] [The person above really wants it both ways, huh?]

Cynthia ignored the speculation. Her goal: escape Preston's advances. He'd mentioned a one-month stay in Roncrity; twenty days had already passed. The show's filming—a week, in a closed setting—would coincide with his departure.

The next day, Cynthia arrived at the airport, only to find a helicopter waiting. Staff greeted her: "Ms. Cynthia, please board. We're taking you to the filming location."

Cynthia was puzzled. "Aren't we waiting for the other guests?"

The staff explained, "Each guest has a helicopter; it's first-come, first-served. Everyone meets on the island. Ms. Cynthia, you're first."

As a participant, Cynthia knew little about the show. This wasn't due to secrecy, but because the director, just back from vacation, had decided to start filming immediately. There was no advance preparation or publicity; it felt impromptu.

Cynthia knew only four of the guests, all famous. She had no personal goals for participating; it was purely to avoid Preston. She planned to blend in, unnoticed.

The helicopter quickly took off, leaving Roncrity half an hour later. An hour passed; Cynthia looked out at the vast ocean. Freddie had mentioned a tropical island getaway. Another hour, and a wide expanse of lush green islands—like emeralds—came into view.

The helicopter descended, landing on a beach. Cynthia disembarked and heard a voice: "Welcome our first guest to 'Devil's Island Escape,' Cynthia Jones!"

This was Cynthia's first time hearing the show's name. Meanwhile, over a million viewers were watching live, her identity displayed:

Cynthia Jones, 23 years old, occupation: Host for Roncrity News Network.

[Cynthia Jones? Never heard of her. Just another nobody, I suppose.] [Seriously, Jason is a well-known director, yet they invited a host from a small local TV station? Is this show really struggling to find guests?] [Cynthia… That name sounds familiar. I remember it was trending recently, something about being mixed up with a real heiress. There was some drama with mistaken identity that went viral a few times.] [Just some local girl from a wealthy family, wouldn't even qualify as a maid in our Betrico scene.]

The live room buzzed, but the moment Cynthia's face appeared, everything froze for ten seconds…