Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 122: Julian’s Biggest Move – Stealing Ava’s Best Matches

Chapter 122: Julian’s Biggest Move – Stealing Ava’s Best Matches

The glass-paneled conference floor of the Shiroyama Tower buzzed with the usual low thrum of elegance and calculation—heels tapping over marble, polite laughter laced with ambition, the gentle tinkling of cups from a nearby espresso bar staffed by baristas in minimalist black uniforms.

Ava stood near the updated leaderboard screen, her eyes scanning the new entries with a mounting dread that wrapped around her chest like a vice. Her name, once perched confidently near the top, had slipped two places. Not impossible. Not irreversible. But strange. Very strange.

It wasn’t the fall itself—it was who had suddenly risen above her.

Julian Ashcroft. Again.

And this time, not just by a slim margin. No, his leaderboard surge was... dramatic.

Too dramatic.

She narrowed her eyes, fingers curling around the tablet she held. A few of her former matches—clients she had painstakingly interviewed, guided, introduced—now had Ashcroft Group tags next to their names. Some were marked as "AI-Reassessment Pending." Others? "Exclusive Ashcroft Curation."

The phrase made her stomach turn.

Before she could process, a gentle tap on her shoulder made her spin around.

"Miss Lee?" It was Akiko Tan, one of her matched clients from the Sakura Love Festival. A sweet, shy illustrator who had been perfectly matched with a photographer who adored her quirky charm.

Ava softened her posture. "Hey, Akiko. Everything alright?"

Akiko hesitated, biting her lip. "I thought... I thought you were my matchmaker. But I just got this follow-up email from Ashcroft Group. It said they’re scheduling an optimization session for me and my match?"

Ava blinked. "I didn’t send that. I’d never—"

"I didn’t think so," Akiko said quickly. "But... it made me wonder. Was I just a beta test? Did you really think we worked, or was it just... data?"

The hurt in her eyes shattered something inside Ava.

Before she could even respond, another client approached—a young businessman named Kenta, who had also been matched through Ava’s intuitive process.

He looked frustrated. "My date said she got reassigned based on new compatibility metrics. She thinks we were a fluke. That we’re not a good fit anymore."

Ava felt the floor tilt under her.

This wasn’t just points. It wasn’t leaderboard politics.

Julian was undermining her clients. Undermining them.

Turning real connection into a statistic.

Across the hall, a familiar voice bellowed, slicing through the glassy calm.

"I have never seen such algorithmic arrogance in my life!"

Mei.

Ava turned to see her grandmother storming toward the event moderator’s table, waving a printed summit rulebook in one hand and a massive thermos of pu-erh tea in the other like it was a weapon.

Harold followed closely behind, squinting at a tablet as he read aloud, "Summit Rule 6.4-B: Interference with another matchmaker’s client list constitutes grounds for disqualification."

The poor staff member tried to shrink behind a clipboard.

Mei planted her hand on the table. "I’ve been dealing with tech bros trying to commodify romance since the dawn of dating apps. You are not special, Julian!"

Her voice echoed off the marble columns, drawing the attention of half the conference floor.

Harold peered over his glasses. "Also, your software’s metadata tags left a trail longer than your overpriced cologne. Naughty."

Julian, who had just stepped out of a VR demo booth, straightened his jacket and approached, face a mask of manufactured confusion.

"I’m sorry—are we accusing me of success now?" he said coolly.

Mei stepped forward. "We’re accusing you of hijacking real people’s love stories."

Reporters had already gathered, sniffing scandal like blood in the water.

Julian flashed a PR smile, but Ava could see the tightness in his jaw.

"Perhaps if some people kept better records, their clients wouldn’t be so easily poached."

That hit Ava like a slap.

She stepped forward, voice low and steady. "You think this is a game. But these are people. And they trusted me."

Julian didn’t respond. He simply raised a brow and walked away, his polished shoes clicking like punctuation marks against the floor.

An hour later, Ava slipped out the back terrace, away from the cameras and the whispered speculation.

The garden was quiet, save for the gentle rustle of bamboo and the occasional splash from a koi pond. She leaned against the railing, fingers clenched around the tablet she hadn’t let go of since morning.

Ryan found her there.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just walked up and stood beside her, offering silence like a balm. The city lights shimmered below them, a sea of gold and indigo stretching to the horizon.

"I hate him," Ava said finally, voice raw.

"I know," Ryan replied.

"I did everything right. And he still—"

"You can’t out-manipulate a manipulator," Ryan said softly. "You can only choose not to become one."

Ava looked at him, eyes wet. "But if I don’t play dirty, I lose."

"No," Ryan said, cupping her face gently. "You stay you. You keep doing this the way you know is right. And if you lose that—then he wins. Not the challenge. You."

Ava broke then, tears slipping down her cheeks. Ryan pulled her in, arms wrapping around her tightly as she buried her face in his shoulder.

He didn’t give her a speech.

He just held her.

And later, beneath the sakura tree whose blossoms still fluttered in the garden breeze, he kissed her.

Slow, sure, anchoring her to the moment and to him.

They didn’t see Ethan Chase until they were walking back inside.

He stepped out from behind a pillar, dressed impeccably in a navy suit, sipping sake like he had all the time in the world.

"Rough day?" he asked casually.

Ryan stiffened. Ava stopped walking.

Ethan’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. "You really should keep a tighter grip on your data, Ava. Next time? Julian won’t just steal your matches. He’ll make it look like you betrayed them."

Ava stared at him, jaw clenched. "Is that a threat?"

Ethan shrugged, the picture of unbothered confidence. "A challenge."

And then he walked away, disappearing into the hum of the Tokyo night.

As the click of Ethan’s shoes faded into the night, Ava remained frozen in place.

The sakura petals drifted lazily around her like a slow snowfall, carried by the soft breeze through the garden courtyard. But the beauty of it—pink blossoms glowing in the warm light, the soft rustle of bamboo leaves—felt distant. Hollow. Like background noise to something far more personal.

Ryan didn’t say anything right away.

He just reached for her hand.

His fingers curled around hers, steady, warm, and real in a way nothing else felt right now. Ava let herself breathe again—one shallow breath, then another—before her gaze finally lifted from the spot Ethan had disappeared into.

She turned to Ryan.

His eyes were already on her, calm and unwavering. Not demanding a reaction. Not filling the silence with false promises or advice. Just being there.

Ava’s voice was barely above a whisper. "Do you think he’s right?"

Ryan’s brows pulled together, subtle but sharp. "Which part?"

"That Julian’s not done. That he’ll make it look like I’m the one who betrayed everyone."

Ryan exhaled slowly, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. "Ava. That man weaponizes fear because he knows you’re a threat. He wants you shaken so you lose before the fight begins."

Ava blinked. "But it feels like I’m losing."

Ryan took a small step closer, closing the space between them. "You are not losing. You’re rattled. You’re tired. You’re human. But you’re still in the game—and you’re still you."

Her lips twitched, almost a smile, almost a sob. "You’re very poetic for someone who once tried to convince me that love was a business transaction."

Ryan chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist, drawing her in until her forehead touched his chest. "And now look at me. I’ve become my own opening argument for why love is the greatest irrational risk you can take."

Ava let herself fall into him, burying her face in the soft fabric of his shirt. She breathed in his scent—warm, familiar, the faint trace of his cologne—and felt the ache in her chest begin to ease.

They stood there for a long moment, just holding each other beneath the cherry blossoms.

No press. No points. No performance.

Just two people anchoring each other when the world tilted.

Ryan’s voice was soft, his fingers moving gently through her hair. "You don’t have to prove anything tonight. Not to Julian. Not to them. Just come back to me."

Ava lifted her head slightly. "I never left."

He smiled—one of those rare, quiet smiles he saved only for her. Then he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "Good. Because I was starting to think I’d have to drag you away for emergency dumplings and questionable sake."

She laughed, the sound catching in her throat. "You’re ridiculous."

"Only for you."

A beat passed. The sakura blossoms shifted in the breeze, catching in Ava’s hair.

She looked up at him, her voice steadying. "Take me home."

Ryan’s brow quirked. "To the suite?"

Ava nodded, that faint heat returning to her eyes now. "Yeah. I want to feel something that isn’t stress. Something that’s... just us."

Ryan didn’t ask twice.

He kissed her once more—slow, reverent—and led her through the quiet garden path, away from the lights, the cameras, the chaos.

Back to a place where the only thing that mattered was what they had already built. Together.