Chapter 75: Meet the Matchmaking Elite
The Palais des Matchmakers was everything Ava had imagined—and everything she’d secretly feared. Set in the heart of Paris, the grand estate glimmered with opulence. Its marble floors shone under the light of chandeliers, and gilded accents adorned every corner, from the sweeping staircases to the intricate carvings along the walls. Lush floral arrangements framed the expansive ballroom, where dozens of the world’s top matchmakers mingled, their laughter and conversation echoing across the space.
As Ava stepped inside, she instinctively smoothed the skirt of her dress, her nerves fluttering in her chest. She had spent hours debating what to wear, finally settling on a sleek black dress with understated elegance. It was classy, professional, and—most importantly—not too flashy. Mei had suggested something "with more sparkle," but Ava had shut that idea down immediately.
"Impressive, huh?" Ryan said, stepping beside her. He looked infuriatingly comfortable in his tailored suit, the faintest grin tugging at his lips.
"Understatement of the century," Ava replied, her voice quieter than usual. She scanned the room, taking in the sea of competitors. Everyone here looked like they belonged—effortlessly polished, exuding confidence, and likely armed with enough charm to sell ice to a penguin.
And then there was Ava, the small-town matchmaker who relied on intuition and gut feelings. She suddenly felt very out of place.
"You’re overthinking," Ryan said, his voice low. "You always get that look when you’re overthinking."
"What look?" Ava asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Like you’re trying to do calculus in your head," Ryan teased. "Relax, Matchmaker. You’ve got this."
Ava opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, a commanding voice cut through the hum of conversation.
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Enter Margaux Duval