My Taboo Harem!

It was such a shame, when you truly thought about it.

A man leaves home every morning, works his ass off for his family, for his children, crawling through hell just to claw his way toward dreams that were burned into him while he was still young.

Which dreams were shaped by a broken background, a worthless family, an environment that either crushed you into dust or forged you into something desperate enough to bleed for every inch of progress.

Suddenly you’re motivated. Hell-bent and obsessed with these dreams.

You swear to yourself you’ll do anything to reach the top, to create a life better than the one you barely survived. Anything to clear your father’s name, anything to make your family rich for generations, anything to stand at the pinnacle where you finally have everything you ever wanted.

And then, of course, after that… you’ll just find something new to chase.

That’s the endless, pathetic cycle of humanity — always running after the next thing, convinced that this time it will be enough.

That’s why lust and greed are called the sins of humanity… because every human emotion and other sins a human can ever commit more or less these two sins are their origin.

What we never realize is that the words we speak so carelessly — “I’ll do anything,” “I’ll pay any price,” “Nothing will stop me” — those words are the ultimate architects of your reality.

They shape the path, the obstacles, the devils that will eventually come knocking.

One day you’re faced with a decision where every virtue you once claimed to hold — morals, ethics, integrity, honor, compassion — stands directly in the way of the thing you’ve sacrificed everything to reach.

That’s where you’re faced with a Right and Wrong decision.

The distinction between good and evil.

And the evil choice is, as always, the shortest path to our ultimate dreams we’ve been working towards since the moment we said “anything”. A path glittering with gold, lined with easy shortcuts, endless possibilities, as long as you take the first step: look away and do what you’ve got to do with eyes closed. The so-called evil.

You’re suddenly back to the words you once chanted: I’ll do anything…

And now the universe is testing how far you’re willing to go. Some add what would give them sleep: As long as it’s not evil.

And that very “as long as it’s not evil” turns into “I am doing this for my family, my dreams!” And that’s the best motivation for whatever you’re doing, good or bad.

Well, if you’re old enough and have responsibilities to fulfill.

Dr. Okonkwo was once such a man.

Worked his ass off from square one, from some forgotten town the government didn’t give a fuck about, from a family no one in the town gave a fuck about because his father was in prison for murder and no one cared about their pleas that he was wrongfully accused by the rich.

And he’d told himself he’d do anything to reach the top, clear his father’s name, become rich for his family and the generations to come.

He studied every book that was in his way, went through all stages, and earned a scholarship to study in the most exclusive and prestigious place there was: Ashford Elite Academy. From there he went to Ashford Elite College, and later he went through everything and became one of the most respected doctors in the biggest hospital in Paradise.

Made his family rich and they moved into Downtown Paradise.

But all he had achieved was what you could call a deal with the devil.

And the devil always had a price you had to pay to achieve more—or see all the efforts you’d worked for end with a poooff.

Smoke in the air.

And he was suddenly stared at by the decision to pay the devil’s price, who was asking: You said you’d do anything? Prove it.

For his family. For his promises. To reach the pinnacle.

Dr. Okonkwo took the bribe.

And that was all he had to do. He became so rich and was now one of the leaders of Paradise’s biggest hospital.

That, my friend, is how the devil pays you generously — as long as you do as promised. Okonkwo became richer and richer with each new week that came by and passed.

But what people forget is that decisions we make, we make them against fellow humans who’d later come to collect their revenge.

And before they came for that, it’s the results of our decisions that bury us first without realizing it.

For him it was his money.

The more he got, the more things he could do and afford, and the fewer limits he had.

So much that he had three mistresses in Downtown Paradise, in places he could pay for without asking the price.

But the reason why he was able to achieve everything—three mansions, three mistresses, and everything else he had—was a decision to cover up a young girl’s rape and murder.

And he had a debt to settle.

It was dressed in shadows and carried two daggers.

****

The article loaded on Phei’s phone as the car glided smoothly through Paradise’s sunlit morning streets.

[PROMINENT DOCTOR FOUND DEAD IN NYXLIM HOTEL — MYSTERIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES MIRROR CHIEF MORRISON’S DEATH]

“Dr. Okonkwo, one of Paradise General Hospital’s leading physicians, was discovered deceased in a luxury suite at the Nyxlim Hotel early this morning. Sources indicate he was staying overnight with a female companion who was found unconscious but unharmed. Initial reports suggest the cause of death bears eerie similarities to the mysterious passing of former Police Chief Morrison, who was found dead in his cell only hours earlier. Both victims displayed no visible wounds — only three thin, perfect black lines carved across vital areas that investigators have been unable to explain or even identify…”

Phei read the article twice, then handed the phone to Madam Ashford without a word.

She took it with the languid grace of a woman who had spent the entire night being thoroughly worshipped and was still floating in a haze of satisfaction and pleasant exhaustion.

Her brow slowly furrowed.

“We just left that place,” she said, voice rising with disbelief. “Phei… it happened a few floors above us. We left like ten minutes ago.”

He shrugged, completely unbothered.

She stared at him, then back at the article, then at him again. A visible shiver ran down her spine as the dots connected — two deaths in one night, same impossible method, same thin black lines that swallowed light itself.

“If this is a serial murderer…”

He shrugged again. “Given how they died, it could be. Too soon to tell for sure, but I’d put it at seventy percent.”

“And we were there,” her voice climbed. “It probably happened at night while— While we were—”

She stopped abruptly. Her cheeks flushed crimson. She glanced nervously at Catherine(her assistantt) in the driver’s seat.

“While we were what?” Phei asked, voice dripping with fake innocence.

She shook her head slowly, a reluctant smile fighting its way onto her lips despite the morbid news. “You little monster.”

Phei grinned — wide, shameless, entirely unrepentant. “Oh, I have a monster. And it’s been running wild in your cave almost the entire night.”

She spat her coffee, eyes flying to Catherine in pure mortification.

The assistant simply shook her head with the weary resignation of someone who had heard far too much and had long ago decided some things were better left unacknowledged.

“Phei!” The her fist thumped weakly against his chest. “You can’t just— Catherine is right there—I can’t believe you—”

He laughed, warm and genuine, completely unbothered by her flustered sputtering. He pulled her head gently against his chest.

She didn’t resist. She melted into him instead, letting herself be soothed by the little evil dragon fingers in her hair, by the solid warmth of his body, by the dangerous comfort he offered so easily.

Phei sighed in quiet contentment.

Eira, sitting shotgun in crystalline form that caught the morning light like frozen starlight, turned to face him. Invisible to Catherine. Visible only to him.

“What do you think about the case?”

Phei considered it for a moment.

It was interesting, certainly. He had hated Chief Morrison with a passion that bordered on religious.

The man had buried so much evidence, protected so many Legacy sons from the consequences they deserved — and most importantly, he had made sure Selene was labeled nothing more than a depressed teenager who couldn’t handle academic pressure and took her own life.

Morrison had been on Phei’s personal hit list since the day that coroner’s report landed with “suicide” stamped across it in cold official ink.

Unfortunately — or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it — someone had gotten to Morrison first.

Honestly, Phei replied through their bond, “I’m disappointed someone beat me to him.”

Eira’s laugh sounded like wind chimes carved from ice. “Your cruelty never ceases to amuse me, Master.”

“It’s not cruelty,” Phei thought back, glancing out the window at Paradise sliding past — gleaming towers, manicured streets, and all the beautiful rot festering just beneath the surface. “It’s efficiency. I prefer to handle my enemies before someone else does.”

She laughed again, knowing exactly who he meant.

MarcusHeavenchild and Danton topped that list.

The names sat in Phei’s chest like a shard of ice that refused to melt.

Someone was cleaning house.

And whoever they were, they had just crossed two names off what was clearly a very, very long list.

Phei pulled Madam Ashford more closer, breathing in the scent of her hair, feeling the warmth of her body pressed trustingly against his side.

He should probably be concerned about a mysterious killer stalking Paradise and systematically murdering everyone connected to Selene’s case.

He wasn’t.

He was just annoyed they were faster than him.