Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 88: Ethan’s New Sabotage Scheme

Chapter 88: Ethan’s New Sabotage Scheme

The tension in the air was palpable the moment Ava stepped into the convention hall the next morning. The usual lively chatter among competitors felt different—less friendly, more whispered, more guarded. It was the kind of shift that set off immediate alarm bells in her mind.

Ryan noticed it too. His casual stance became more alert as he scanned the room, his fingers lightly tapping against his coffee cup. "Something’s off," he muttered, leaning in so only she could hear.

Ava frowned. "You feel it too?"

Ryan nodded, his sharp gaze flickering toward a group of competitors huddled near the espresso bar, whispering behind their hands. When one of them—Camille, a French matchmaker Ava had actually liked—caught sight of her, she quickly looked away, her lips pressing into a tight line.

Ava’s stomach sank. Oh, great.

Before she could ask what was going on, a familiar smug voice cut through the crowd.

"Well, if it isn’t Paris’ most controversial matchmaker."

Ava turned to find Ethan Chase standing near the grand staircase, arms crossed over his chest, looking far too pleased with himself.

"Ethan." She forced her voice to stay neutral. "What have you done now?"

Ethan smirked, his posture relaxed but eyes gleaming with mischief. "Me? Oh, Ava, you wound me." He placed a hand over his heart mockingly. "I merely pointed out an interesting theory to our fellow matchmakers."

Ryan stepped forward slightly, positioning himself closer to Ava. "Spit it out, Chase," he said coolly.

Ethan tilted his head. "People are saying you’ve been inspired by Julian’s methods. That maybe—just maybe—your whole intuition over algorithms speech is just a smokescreen."

Ava blinked, her mind catching up to the words.

Ryan stiffened beside her. "You’re saying she’s stealing Julian’s methods?"

Ethan’s smirk widened. "I’m not saying anything. But isn’t it fascinating that Ava’s success is starting to look an awful lot like Julian’s formula? Maybe she’s taking notes. Maybe she’s been learning from the best." He gestured around the room. "And people are talking about it."

Ava’s hands curled into fists at her sides, anger bubbling beneath her skin. She knew exactly what Ethan was doing—planting doubt, stirring the pot just enough to make people question her legitimacy. Classic Ethan Chase sabotage.

Ryan let out a sharp breath beside her. "This is ridiculous."

Ethan shrugged. "Is it? Or are people just realizing that intuition isn’t as foolproof as you’d like them to believe?"

Ava met Ethan’s gaze, her pulse drumming in her ears. She refused to let him see how much this got to her. "You’re really that desperate to throw me off, huh?"

Ethan’s smirk never wavered. "Oh, Ava. I don’t need to throw you off. I just need to let doubt do the work for me."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving behind a storm of murmurs in his wake.

---

Ava barely made it back to the apartment before the weight of it all came crashing down.

She sank onto the couch, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes. The room was quiet, the soft hum of the Parisian streets below barely reaching her ears.

Ryan sat beside her, stretching an arm along the back of the couch, watching her. He let the silence settle for a moment before he spoke.

"You know this is complete bullshit, right?"

Ava exhaled a slow breath. "I know. It’s just..." She dropped her hands and looked at him. "You saw how they looked at me. It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. The doubt is already there."

Ryan’s jaw tensed. "Because Ethan’s a manipulative ass."

Ava let out a humorless chuckle. "That’s an understatement."

Ryan reached over, his fingers lightly brushing against hers before he took her hand, squeezing it. "Hey." His voice softened. "You’re not just a matchmaker, Ava. You’re the matchmaker."

Ava swallowed, her throat tight.

Ryan’s grip on her hand tightened. "You’re the one who makes people believe in love. Not Julian. Not his algorithm. You."

Ava blinked, suddenly feeling warmer despite the chill in the air. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear that until now.

Ryan leaned in slightly, his voice lower now. "You don’t need to prove anything to them, Ava. You’ve already proved it to the only people who matter—the ones who believe in love because of you."

Ava exhaled, something loosening in her chest.

For the first time since this mess started, the doubt didn’t feel so suffocating.

She turned her hand over, intertwining her fingers with his. "Thanks," she murmured.

Ryan smiled, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand. "Anytime, Matchmaker."

Ava let herself breathe, leaning into his warmth just a little bit more.

Tomorrow, she’d deal with Ethan.

Tonight?

Tonight, she let Ryan hold her hand a little longer.

---

The soft pink hues of dawn stretched across the Parisian skyline, casting long golden streaks over the rooftops. The city was still waking, the gentle hum of life drifting up from the streets below—the distant clang of a baker setting out fresh baguettes, the faint chatter of early risers at nearby cafés, and the occasional distant honk of a car navigating the narrow roads.

Ava stood at the private balcony of their shared apartment, her arms folded as she stared out at the city.

She should have been enjoying this. Paris, in all its breathtaking beauty, was laid out before her like something out of a dream. The view alone was enough to make any romantic at heart swoon.

But all she could think about was Ethan’s sabotage.

"Maybe she’s been learning from the best."

His words had followed her all night, lingering like the remnants of an unfinished conversation, curling around her thoughts until they felt impossible to shake.

What if people really believed it?

What if Julian’s so-called algorithm, his Perfection Pair app, actually worked just well enough to make her matchmaking methods look outdated?

Ava exhaled, rubbing her temples. No. That’s ridiculous. Right?

She had built her reputation on intuition, instincts—on seeing the things that algorithms could never quantify. A real match wasn’t about data points or formulas. It was about moments, chemistry, the things you couldn’t explain but felt deep in your bones.

And yet... the doubt still lingered.

She sighed, gripping the balcony railing tighter.

Then, she heard the faint creak of the door behind her.

Ryan.

She didn’t have to turn around to know it was him—the quiet confidence of his steps, the comforting warmth of his presence even before he spoke.

"You’ve been out here a while," Ryan murmured, stepping onto the balcony.

Ava forced a small smile, still looking out at the city. "Couldn’t sleep."

Ryan didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he held out a plate in front of her, the scent of warm French toast filling the air. "Then eat."

Ava blinked, looking down at the plate. Two slices of French toast, golden and crisp, dusted lightly with powdered sugar, with a side of fresh berries. Next to it, he balanced a cup of coffee.

Her lips twitched despite herself. "Did you... make this?"

Ryan smirked, leaning casually against the railing beside her. "I have some skills, you know."

Ava arched a brow, taking the plate. "Since when do you cook?"

Ryan shrugged. "Since I figured out you’d be standing out here overthinking instead of eating."

Ava let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head as she took a bite. The moment the soft, sweet flavor hit her tongue, she hummed in appreciation.

Ryan grinned. "Good?"

"Annoyingly good," Ava admitted, swallowing. "You sure you didn’t bribe a French chef to make this?"

Ryan placed his coffee down and leaned in, his voice low. "Would it impress you if I said I made it just for you?"

Ava rolled her eyes, but her cheeks warmed. "That depends. Are you expecting a gold star?"

Ryan smirked, sipping his coffee. "Nah. Just making sure you eat and stop overthinking."

Ava exhaled, her fingers tightening around the plate. "So you do know what’s on my mind."

Ryan leaned his elbows against the railing, looking out over the city. "You’re still stuck on Ethan’s little sabotage move."

Ava didn’t deny it. "People love to believe the worst. What if—"

Ryan turned his head to look at her. "Nope. No ’what ifs.’"

Ava blinked at him.

Ryan took another sip of coffee before setting it down and facing her fully. "Julian’s algorithm? His Perfection Pair app? It’s just another gimmick. Flashy? Sure. Smart marketing? Maybe. But it’s never going to replace what you do."

Ava bit her lip. "But what if people start thinking it can?"

Ryan tilted his head. "Then they’re wrong."

Ava huffed, setting her plate down on the railing. "You can’t just say that like it’s that simple."

Ryan took the plate back from her, holding it just out of reach. "It is that simple."

Ava made a face. "Give me my toast back, Kim."

Ryan grinned but didn’t budge. "Not until you listen."

Ava sighed, crossing her arms. "Fine. Enlighten me."

Ryan’s voice softened, his teasing fading slightly as he looked at her. "Ava, you’re not just a matchmaker. You’re the matchmaker. People don’t come to you because you have a fancy app or because you follow some formula. They come to you because you see them. Not their data points. Not their compatibility scores. Them."

Ava swallowed, her heart skipping slightly at the certainty in his tone.

Ryan wasn’t done. "Do you know how rare that is? Do you know how many people spend their whole lives wishing someone would just see them the way you do?"

Ava’s breath caught in her throat.

Ryan stepped closer, reaching out, his fingers gently brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"The reason Julian’s algorithm will never win," he murmured, "is because love isn’t about perfect numbers. It’s about imperfect people choosing each other anyway."

Ava blinked up at him, the weight of his words settling deep in her chest.

She opened her mouth—then promptly forgot what she was going to say, because Ryan had taken that moment to press a warm, lingering kiss to her forehead.

Her eyes fluttered shut for just a second.

When he pulled back, his voice was quieter. "So stop worrying. You’re already great."

Ava exhaled slowly.

She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear that.

Ryan grinned, holding out her plate again. "Now, eat your toast."

Ava rolled her eyes, but this time, her smile was real.

Ryan Kim was trouble.

But maybe, just maybe...

He was her kind of trouble.