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Chapter 49: The Matchmaking Convention Kickoff – Enter the Rivals

The International Matchmaking Convention’s opening ceremony was everything Ava expected: glamorous, overwhelming, and just chaotic enough to keep her on edge. The grand ballroom of the Manhattan Regal had been transford into a matchmaking wonderland, complete with cascading floral arrangents, softly glowing chandeliers, and waitstaff gliding through the crowd with trays of champagne flutes.

Ava tugged nervously at the hem of her dress, glancing around at the sea of impeccably dressed attendees. The na tags pinned to their lapels scread prestige—CEOs of dating apps, founders of matchmaking agencies, and industry legends whose nas Ava had only ever read about in glossy magazine articles.

"This is it," she muttered under her breath, clutching her glass of champagne like a lifeline.

Ryan leaned in, his tuxedo sohow making him look both ridiculously polished and infuriatingly casual. "You’re supposed to smile, Matchmaker. Pretend you’re not planning an escape route."

"I’m not planning an escape route," Ava hissed, but her darting eyes betrayed her. "I’m just... scanning the room."

"Uh-huh," Ryan said, smirking. "Well, while you scan, I’ll keep an eye out for anyone trying to sell us ’soulmate algorithms.’"

Ava groaned, shaking her head. "You’re not helping."

Ryan grinned. "I never promised to."

Before Ava could respond, a sharp voice cut through the hum of conversation.

"Ava Lee, I presu?"

Ava turned to find herself face-to-face with Julian Ashcroft, the tech billionaire whose na had been circling her mind ever since i had dropped the bombshell invitation. He was tall, sharp-cheeked, and exuded the kind of effortless confidence that made Ava imdiately suspicious.

"Julian Ashcroft," Ava said, forcing a polite smile. "It’s nice to et you."

"The pleasure’s mine," Julian replied, his tone smooth. He offered a hand, and Ava shook it cautiously, feeling as though she were stepping onto a chessboard where he already had the upper hand.

Ryan, standing beside her, crossed his arms. "Julian Ashcroft. Innovate Love Inc., right? The ’Why trust your heart when you can trust the data?’ guy?"

Julian’s lips twitched into a faint smile, the kind that said he was used to such jabs. "Guilty as charged. And you are?"

"Ryan Kim," Ryan said, his tone deliberately casual. "Ava’s... partner."

Ava’s head whipped toward him. The way he emphasized "partner" made it sound like they were either running a cri ring or secretly dating.

Julian’s eyes flicked between them, his expression unreadable. "Ah. Well, it’s good to see that Ms. Lee has... support."

Ava bristled at the condescension in his voice. "I don’t need support," she said sharply.

"Of course not," Julian said, the corners of his mouth curling into a smirk. "But let’s be honest, this isn’t the tea shop anymore. You’re stepping into a larger arena now—one where instinct and intuition aren’t enough."

Ava narrowed her eyes. "Intuition has worked pretty well for

so far."

"We’ll see," Julian said, his tone maddeningly calm. "Good luck, Ms. Lee. You’ll need it."

With that, he gave a polite nod and walked away, leaving Ava fuming.

Ryan whistled low. "Well, he’s subtle."

Ava glared at him. "Not helping."

"Hey, at least he didn’t call you an amateur outright," Ryan said, shrugging. "That’s practically a complint coming from a guy like him."

Ava took a deep breath, reminding herself that throttling people at a matchmaking convention was frowned upon. "Let’s just get through tonight."

As Ava and Ryan moved through the ballroom, another figure stepped into their path. Dressed in flowing silks and adorned with intricate jewelry, Astrid LaFleur looked every bit the French mystic she claid to be. Her na tag read: Astrid LaFleur, Astrological Matchmaker Extraordinaire.

"You must be Ava Lee," Astrid said in a lilting accent, her piercing gaze locking onto Ava.

"Yes, and you are?" Ava asked, trying to keep her tone polite.

"Astrid LaFleur," she said, gesturing grandly. "I read the stars, the planets, the energy of the universe. And I must say, your aura is... intriguing."

Ava blinked. "Thanks?"

Astrid leaned in, scrutinizing Ava and Ryan with a look of deep concentration. "Ah, the two of you... such opposing energies. It’s fascinating. The chemistry is undeniable, but the tension... oh, the tension! It’s practically written in the stars."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "I think you might be reading the wrong stars."

Astrid ignored him, focusing on Ava. "Be careful, my dear. rcury is retrograde, and it does not bode well for partnerships. By the next full moon, there will be... a romantic disaster."

Ava’s stomach twisted. "What kind of disaster?"

Astrid smiled enigmatically. "That, I cannot say. But I suggest you prepare for the unexpected."

Ryan snorted. "We’ve been doing that since we t i. I think we’ll survive."

Astrid tilted her head, as if amused by Ryan’s skepticism. "We shall see," she said, sweeping away into the crowd.

Ava turned to Ryan, her nerves jangling. "What if she’s right?"

"She’s not," Ryan said, rolling his eyes. "She’s just trying to psych you out. And honestly, who even talks like that?"

Ava wasn’t convinced, but before she could dwell on it, another voice interrupted.

"Ava! Ryan! Just the dynamic duo I wanted to see."

Ava’s heart sank as Ethan Chase sauntered toward them, his grin as smug as ever. The last ti she’d seen him, he’d nearly derailed one of her events with his flair for drama and manipulation.

"Ethan," Ava said flatly. "What are you doing here?"

"Partnering with Julian," Ethan said, gesturing toward the tech billionaire, who was currently charming a group of attendees across the room. "Didn’t i tell you? I’m part of the competition."

"Of course you are," Ava muttered, her patience wearing thin.

"Don’t look so thrilled," Ethan said, his grin widening. "This is going to be fun."

"For you, maybe," Ryan said, stepping forward slightly.

Ethan’s eyes sparkled with amusent as he glanced between them. "Oh, don’t worry, Ryan. There’s enough chaos here for all of us. And who knows? Maybe I’ll even learn sothing from watching Ava work her magic."

Ava’s fists clenched, but Ryan placed a hand on her arm, his grip steady. "Don’t let him get to you," he said quietly.

Ethan smirked, clearly enjoying himself. "See you two on the battlefield," he said, sauntering off with a wink.

By the ti the opening speeches began, Ava was already operating on fus. The day had been long, stressful, and full of too many people who radiated smugness, and she was only two hours into the convention. Sitting stiffly at her assigned table, Ava felt like she was trapped in a matchmaking Hunger Gas.

i and Harold, of course, were utterly unbothered. i sat beside her, nibbling on an hors d’oeuvre like she was watching a play, while Harold thodically examined a program brochure, muttering, "Do you think they’ll serve croissants during the breakfast panel?"

anwhile, Ryan sat across from Ava, completely at ease. He leaned back in his chair, swirling his champagne lazily and smirking every ti he caught her muttering under her breath about the competition.

"This is already a disaster," Ava whispered, clutching her champagne flute like a lifeline. "Julian’s smug, Astrid thinks rcury retrograde is going to destroy , and Ethan is... Ethan."

"It’s not a disaster," Ryan said, hiding a grin behind his glass. "It’s entertainnt."

"For who?" Ava shot back. "Because it’s certainly not ."

Ryan shrugged, his tone too casual to be helpful. "You’re not supposed to enjoy war, Matchmaker. You’re supposed to win it."

Before Ava could deliver a scathing response, i leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Dear, you’re much too tense. Have so water. Hydration is important."

Ava raised an eyebrow but obediently picked up her water glass, taking a sip. Except—it wasn’t water. It was wine. A lot of wine. Ava froze, her throat burning slightly as she swallowed.

"Grandma," she hissed, placing the glass back on the table. "Why is my water... fernted?"

i’s grin widened as she lifted her own glass, which was also wine. "Oh, didn’t I ntion? I thought we could use a little liquid courage. Networking is so much easier when you’re relaxed."

"Relaxed?" Ava whispered harshly. "Do you know how much trouble I’m in already? The last thing I need is—"

i raised a hand, cutting her off. "Nonsense! A little wine will loosen you up, dear. You’re much too uptight. Rember, charm wins the crowd."

Ryan, clearly eavesdropping, leaned closer with a grin. "You know, she’s not wrong."

"Stay out of this," Ava snapped, glaring at him.

Ryan held up his hands in mock surrender, though the amusent never left his face. "I’m just saying, Matchmaker. A tipsy Ava might be fun. Like karaoke night, but with fewer death tal covers."

Ava groaned, her cheeks heating at the mory. "I will actually murder you."

"Focus that energy on the competition," Ryan teased, raising his champagne glass in a mock toast.

Before Ava could fire back, the emcee stepped onto the stage, signaling the start of the evening’s toasts. A ripple of polite applause swept through the room, and Ava took a deep breath, montarily grateful for the distraction.

But her relief was short-lived. As the emcee began calling on prominent attendees to share a few words, Ava noticed i shifting in her seat, her expression turning sly. That was never a good sign.

"You’re not planning sothing, are you?" Ava asked, narrowing her eyes at her grandmother.

"Who, ?" i replied, all innocence.

"Yes, you," Ava said, her suspicion growing.

Before i could respond, the emcee’s voice bood through the room. "And now, let’s hear from one of our rising stars in the industry—Ava Lee, representing modern matchmaking!"

Ava’s stomach plumted as all eyes in the ballroom turned to her.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No, no, no—"

"Oh, get up there, dear!" i said, practically shoving her out of her chair. "The world is waiting!"

Ava stumbled to her feet, gripping her wine glass for moral support as she made her way to the stage. The room felt like it had doubled in size, the chandeliers glaring down at her like interrogation lights. She reached the podium, set her glass down, and cleared her throat, forcing a smile.

"Um... hi," she began, her voice a little too loud. "Thank you all for, uh, being here. This is my first ti at the International Matchmaking Convention, and... wow, what an honor."

She glanced down at her wine glass, briefly considering chugging it before deciding that was probably not the impression she wanted to leave.

"I think what makes matchmaking so special," Ava continued, clutching the sides of the podium, "is that it’s about people. Real people. It’s not about algorithms or... or data points. It’s about connection. Chemistry. The spark that makes two people choose each other out of everyone else."

Ava paused, gaining a bit of confidence as she scanned the room. She caught Julian Ashcroft’s gaze in the audience, his perfectly sculpted face betraying the faintest hint of amusent. That was all it took to knock her off balance.

"And that’s why," Ava said, her words speeding up slightly, "I think it’s important to rember that matchmaking isn’t sothing you can just program into a computer. Because anyone who thinks love can be boiled down to a formula is a—"

She froze, realizing too late that her brain was going rogue.

"A data-loving robot," she blurted, her voice ringing through the microphone.

The room went deathly silent. For a mont, all Ava could hear was the pounding of her own heart. Then, from the back of the room, Ryan coughed, clearly trying (and failing) to disguise his laughter.

Julian’s expression didn’t waver. He simply raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a faint, unreadable smile. Beside him, Ethan looked absolutely delighted, as though Ava had just made his night.

"Well said, Ava!" i called from the table, breaking the tension with a round of enthusiastic applause.

The rest of the room followed her lead, clapping politely, though Ava could feel the stares boring into her as she stumbled back to her seat.

"You’re off to a strong start," Ryan teased, leaning closer as she sat down. His grin was infuriatingly smug.

"Shut up," Ava muttered, burying her face in her hands. "This is a nightmare."

"It could’ve been worse," Ryan said, still grinning. "At least you didn’t call him a heartless algorithm overlord."

"Don’t tempt ," Ava mumbled through her fingers.

i, anwhile, looked thoroughly pleased with herself. She raised her wine glass in a toast to Ava, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Bravo, dear," she said. "That’s the spirit. Make them rember you."

"Oh, they’ll rember , all right," Ava muttered. "As the woman who insulted a billionaire on day one."

Ryan chuckled, patting her shoulder. "Welco to the big leagues, Matchmaker. It only gets better from here."

Despite herself, Ava couldn’t help but laugh. Because deep down, she knew he was probably right.

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