Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 125: Ava Wins – But At a Cost

Chapter 125: Ava Wins – But At a Cost

Victory tasted bitter.

The morning after the televised triumph should’ve been a celebration. Tokyo’s skyline gleamed under pale sunshine. The Sakura Grand Hotel buzzed with congratulations, bouquets arriving by the dozen, and Ava’s face was splashed across headlines worldwide. The Matchmaker Who Beat the Machine.Queen of Chemistry.Ava Lee Proves Love Can’t Be Coded.

But when she opened her inbox, everything changed.

Dozens of unread messages. A dozen more client follow-ups. One subject line froze her blood cold.

"Match Reassignment Notice – Haruto & Elise."

Ava’s hand hovered over the trackpad before she clicked. The message was curt, formal.

Due to internal reassessment of compatibility reports, Elise Turner has been rematched under Ashcroft’s AI program. Any previous connections are no longer valid under summit standings.

Ava’s heart dropped.

Elise was one of her earliest clients in Tokyo. A travel-loving photojournalist from Australia. Paired with Haruto, a reserved yet gentle volunteer coordinator. The match hadn’t just worked—it had sparked. Their connection had been slow-burn, thoughtful, the kind Ava prided herself on.

She had watched them smile at each other over shared tea. Had seen Haruto’s guarded expression crack when Elise talked about chasing sunsets. She knew they were right.

And now?

Julian had reassigned Elise. As if that love didn’t matter.

As if her match had been nothing but a number to be moved around.

Ava shot out of her chair.

"Ryan!" she shouted.

He appeared instantly from the suite’s bedroom, shirt half-buttoned, eyes alert. "What’s wrong?"

Ava spun the laptop toward him. "Julian’s messing with client pairings again. He reassigned Elise. Without telling me. Without even telling her."

Ryan’s jaw clenched. "That son of a—"

"I have to fix this."

He didn’t stop her.

Because he knew.

This wasn’t about scores or summit standings anymore.

This was personal.

The summit lounge was half full when Ava arrived, her coat flaring behind her. Her heels echoed sharply against polished marble as she scanned the room.

She found Elise first.

The young woman looked confused, clutching a tablet and frowning down at the notification on-screen. Haruto sat across from her, equally puzzled, clearly trying to make sense of what was happening.

"Elise," Ava called softly.

Elise looked up, surprised—but her eyes softened with recognition.

"I got this weird message," she said, her voice laced with uncertainty. "They said I’ve been reassigned. That Haruto wasn’t my final match?"

Haruto looked stricken. "Did I... do something wrong?"

Ava’s heart cracked.

"No," she said, walking closer. "You didn’t. Neither of you did."

She sat down, folding her hands carefully on the table. "This wasn’t a reassessment. This was sabotage."

Their eyes widened.

"Elise, Haruto—your connection is real. I saw it. I trust my instincts more than any algorithm."

Haruto swallowed. "But the summit—"

"Let me handle the summit," Ava said firmly. "You just tell me how you feel. Do you want to keep exploring this? Despite what a computer told you?"

There was a beat of silence. Then Elise reached for Haruto’s hand. "Yes," she said.

He nodded. "Yes."

Ava exhaled in relief.

And that’s when the cameras clicked.

Someone from the summit press team had been watching. Recording.

Ryan appeared at her side, slipping a protective arm around her waist. "They’re turning this into a story already."

"I hope they do," Ava murmured. "Because I’m not letting Julian rewrite my clients’ stories."

Later that afternoon, Ava called for a formal hearing with the matchmaking summit’s ethics panel. Ryan helped her prepare a statement, while Mei and Harold stormed the hallway with tea, snacks, and passive-aggressive printed receipts.

Julian showed up late.

Wearing another smug white suit.

He argued AI protocol. Summit flexibility. Performance metrics.

Ava argued trust. Humanity. Truth.

In the end, the panel reinstated her original match. Haruto and Elise. Publicly.

But the cost?

Some of the other clients still hesitated.

Not all trust could be repaired overnight.

And Ava knew that.

She stood alone in the quiet garden behind the summit hall that night, staring out over the koi pond.

The wind was cool. Gentle. Carrying the scent of sakura blossoms.

She felt Ryan’s presence before he touched her.

"Hey," he said.

She leaned into him wordlessly, arms curling around his waist.

He held her tightly, grounding her.

"You did the right thing," he murmured. "Even if it was hard."

Ava pressed her face into his chest. "I just hate that he still got into their heads."

"You know how you fix that?"

She looked up.

He brushed a hand along her cheek, then smiled. "You keep showing them what real love looks like."

Ava blinked at him.

Then smiled back.

"Like this?"

Ryan’s grin widened. "Exactly like this."

And he kissed her—soft, slow, and certain. The kind of kiss that didn’t need any algorithm to measure.

The kind that reminded her she was winning something far more important than a title.

She was building love.

And no one—not even Julian—could take that away.

---

The sun had dipped behind the Tokyo skyline, painting the lobby of the summit venue in amber light. After the confrontation with Julian, after the cameras had stopped flashing and the murmurs began to settle, Ava found herself standing alone near the koi pond in the central atrium. The lanterns glowed softly overhead, their light flickering across her skin as the adrenaline finally ebbed from her system.

She was tired.

Emotionally drained, professionally scorched, and yet... something inside her refused to buckle.

"Miss Lee?"

Ava turned.

It was the nervous florist from Kyoto—Miki, maybe twenty-five, with thick glasses and fingers stained faintly green from her arrangements. She clutched a folded program between her hands like it might blow away.

"I’m sorry to bother you," Miki said, voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I wanted to ask something."

Ava managed a smile. "Of course."

Miki stepped closer, swallowing. "You matched me with Takao, the architect. We’ve been texting and... he sent me a haiku last night. A bad one," she added, almost sheepish. "But it made me laugh."

Ava’s chest tightened. "That’s good."

Miki nodded, eyes wide. "But then... I heard people saying maybe your matches weren’t real. That they were just data errors, or Julian’s interference, and..." Her voice cracked. "I just need to know. Was it real? Or just... part of the show?"

Ava didn’t hesitate. She stepped forward and took Miki’s hands gently in hers.

"Takao asked for someone who’d understand silence," Ava said. "Someone who noticed the small things—flowers in bloom, windows left open, the light that hits a desk just right. I thought of you the second I read his file."

Miki’s eyes filled with tears. "So... it was real?"

Ava smiled softly. "All of it."

Miki burst into a teary laugh, bowing awkwardly before dashing off, overwhelmed.

Another voice broke through the hush.

"Ava."

This time, it was Hiroshi—the investment analyst she’d matched with a violinist earlier in the week. He looked deeply uncomfortable, like a man about to confess to a crime.

"I was going to leave," he admitted. "I had my bags packed. Thought this was all just media performance. Algorithms and branding."

Ava raised an eyebrow. "But you stayed?"

He nodded. "After your speech. After the broadcast. That moment with the shy engineer and the writer?" He smiled, slightly crooked. "That reminded me what I came here for. So... thanks."

He offered a quick bow, then walked away, his expression lighter than before.

Client after client came—quietly, one by one. Not in droves. Not with fanfare.

But with sincerity.

Ava stood beneath the blooming sakura tree in the lobby garden, the petals drifting like snow around her, as real people reclaimed what had nearly been stolen from them: belief.

Not in matchmaking.

In love.

And slowly—finally—Ava Lee started to believe again too.

When Ryan appeared moments later, a paper cup of matcha in hand and a wry smile on his face, she didn’t wait. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.

"Clients?" he asked softly against her hair.

Ava nodded into his chest. "They came back."

Ryan’s hand slid along her spine, warm and steady. "Told you. You don’t need to prove it with numbers. You already changed their lives."

Ava pulled back, eyes shining. "Thank you. For... grounding me. Always."

Ryan leaned in, brushing his lips over her temple. "You do the same for me."

They stood like that, quiet in the cherry-blossom dusk, while behind them, the world of matchmaking roared back to life.

This time?

On Ava’s terms.

Ryan pulled her gently by the hand, guiding them toward a quiet bench nestled beneath the edge of the garden’s wisteria archway. He sat first, then coaxed her into his lap with practiced ease, as if she belonged nowhere else. The matcha was still warm between them, but his arms were warmer.

"I saw you with that girl," he murmured, brushing her hair behind her ear. "The one with the glasses. You made her believe again."

Ava let out a breath. "I didn’t do anything special. I just told her the truth."

Ryan tilted his head. "Which, these days, is special."

She curled closer, resting her head against his shoulder. His fingers traced idle patterns on her thigh, not with heat, but with something softer. Calmer. Like he needed to feel she was really there.

"You know," he said after a moment, his voice low, "you always act like you’re the mess."

Ava blinked, lifting her head. "I am the mess."

Ryan shook his head, looking at her with a level of adoration that made her stomach twist in the best way. "No. You’re the magic. I’m the mess who somehow lucked into the woman who turns chaos into connection."

Ava tried to scoff, but it caught in her throat.

He leaned in, brushing his nose against hers. "You make people see each other, Ava. You made me see myself differently."

A slow breath left her lungs. "You’re really good at this whole ’emotional support’ thing."

Ryan smirked. "I’m practicing. Gotta be ready for when we inevitably have to counsel Mei through her next matchmaking meltdown."

Ava huffed a laugh and dropped her forehead to his chest. "Don’t remind me."

They sat there as the sky darkened to twilight, the lanterns overhead flickering to life with a soft crackle. Music drifted faintly from the far side of the venue, but here, in this quiet corner, it was just the two of them.

"I still want to burn Julian’s algorithm to the ground," Ava said suddenly, muffled against Ryan’s chest.

He chuckled, fingers threading through her hair. "Same. But I think you already beat him, sweetheart."

"How?"

Ryan leaned back just enough to meet her eyes. "Because you’re still here. And they came back for you. Not your title. Not your data. You."

Ava swallowed hard. Her heart felt so full she wasn’t sure how it hadn’t burst already.

She leaned in and kissed him—slow and grateful. Less fireworks, more warmth. More home.

When they parted, Ryan whispered against her lips, "Now can I bribe you with takoyaki and a very inappropriate suggestion involving our hotel shower?"

Ava laughed, cheeks flushing. "You know what? You earned that one."

He stood, catching her hand again.

"Come on, Matchmaker Queen," he murmured, grinning. "Let’s go celebrate."

And hand in hand, they disappeared back into Tokyo’s glowing night.