My Taboo Harem!

The wrought-iron gates parted slowly, heavy and theatrical, like curtains rising on the final act of a play everyone had expected to end happily. The car rolled forward onto polished marble that gleamed black and white under the morning sun, every tile whispering luxury and new beginnings.

She leaned toward the window, breath catching.

The mansion rose before them like something carved from a dream — pale stone and graceful arches, dark-framed windows reflecting golden light, two stories of Mediterranean elegance wrapped in old-world craftsmanship. Towering pines and swaying palms stood sentinel behind it.

Balconies with intricate iron railings overlooked manicured gardens where white flowers bloomed in perfect, obedient rows.

Lanterns glowed softly even in daylight, as if the house itself refused to wait for night to show its warmth.

It looked like it had been waiting for her.

Diana brought the car to a smooth stop.

Phei was already out, jogging around to the passenger side with boyish energy that hadn’t dimmed even after everything he’d been through. He pulled the door open with a dramatic flourish and offered his hand.

She took it and stepped onto the marble she had never walked before, eyes wide as she stared up at the sheer impossible scale of the place. This wasn’t a house. This was a statement that belonged in glossy magazines, blockbuster movies.1

“The architecture…” she breathed, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s…”

Phei spread his arms wide, grinning like a magician who had just pulled off the greatest trick of his life.

“Welcome home, Mother.”

She turned to him slowly. Blinked once. Twice.

“Do you… live here?”

“I told you — I’m one of the richest teenagers in the world now.” That familiar trouble-making grin spread across his face, that had always meant she was about to lose an argument whether she liked it or not.

“And that I have a second surprise for you.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a thick envelope, pressing it gently into her hands.

“You own the place.”

Her mouth fell open.

“Before you say anything—” He raised a hand, cutting off the protest he knew was coming. “It’s already paid for in full. I own my own property, and I can’t resell this one back for at least two years. So, you’re legally not allowed to say no.”

She stared at the envelope. At him. At the mansion looming behind him like a beautiful accusation.

Then back at him.

A slow, knowing smile curved her lips.

“Maybe you’re forgetting just how shameless I can be.” Her voice was calm, steady — the voice of a woman who had already lost too much to waste time pretending pride still mattered. “I know you’re rich now. There’s no way in hell I’m saying no to a mansion.”

Phei’s grin cracked into genuine, relieved laughter. He pulled her into a tight, warm hug — the kind only a son who had laughed at death itself that had been getting ready to take her.

“That’s what I’m talking about.”

He released her and took her hand, leading her around the side of the mansion where another car waited silently on the marble drive like a sleek predator in repose.

Low. Aggressive. Black as midnight with chrome accents that caught the light like expensive jewelry. The Park Motors emblem — that winged “P” — gleamed proudly on the grille, screaming Legacy engineering, Legacy money, and Legacy taste.

“Maya personally gifted this to you,” Phei said. “She insisted the Park PLE Coupe sits too high for you. You deserve something low, sleek… and dangerous.”1

His mother circled the car slowly, one hand rising to cover her mouth. Her eyes traced every seductive curve, every perfect line. This machine probably cost more than the entire apartment she had been living in before the accident that took her husband.

“I’ve only met that young woman once,” she murmured, voice muffled behind her fingers, “and she’s already bribing me with a luxury car in exchange for my son.”

Phei shrugged, trying to look innocent. “I told her there was no way you’d accept a car fr—”

“Tell her, I approve, you’re all hers.”

The words came out instantly. Zero hesitation. Zero shame.

Phei stared at her, betrayed.

“Traitor,” he muttered.

He turned and walked away with exaggerated heartbreak, shoulders slumped theatrically, head shaking as he muttered loud enough for her to hear: “Sold by mother for a sedan. The going rate for loyalty has really dropped.”

Behind him, she pressed the key fob. The car chirped happily in response, as if welcoming its new owner with mechanical affection.

Diana stood beside the PLE Coupe SUV, arms crossed, watching the scene with quiet amusement.

Phei joined her, and together they observed his mother — watching her run reverent hands along the hood, peek through the tinted windows, and smile with a pure, radiant joy that had been missing from her face for nearly a year.

Phei spoke softly, almost to himself.

“You’ll be safe here, D. I’ve already wired some money for anything you’ll need. There will be guards watching over both of you, but don’t tell her. I don’t want her anxious.”

Diana turned to him, eyes searching his face.

“What happened to you, Sir?” Her voice was quiet, almost wary. “Since when can you casually buy mansions and call millions ‘some money’?”

Phei smiled, tilting his head with that dangerous charm.

“Why? Are you impressed?”

She nodded before she could stop herself.

His smile deepened. He reached out and took her hand — gently, possessively, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The moment their skin touched, Diana’s entire body shivered. His thumb traced a slow, deliberate circle across her palm, and for a second she forgot how to breathe.

“You should be comfortable now,” he said, voice low and warm, carrying the weight of absolute promise. “No one will ever harm either of you again. You’re my family, D. And I protect my family to the death.”

He held her gaze long enough for the words to sink deep, long enough for her to understand he meant every syllable with deadly seriousness.

Then his tone lightened, the flirt slipping back in like an old friend.

“Besides, I’m a billionaire now. If I can’t buy a multi-million-dollar mansion for my mother-in-law, who the hell else am I supposed to spoil?” He glanced at the mansion, the cars, everything he had given them. “I couldn’t let you go back to that tiny apartment. Could I?”

Diana shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“That’s why I like you,” Phei said, grin turning sharp and warm at the same time. “You’re honest.”

What Phei didn’t know was that every shadow on the property was watching him.

Directly.

Every moment since dawn — picking his mother up from the hospital, driving her here, handing her the envelope, watching her laugh at the cars, holding Diana’s hand while promising protection — had been witnessed in perfect, hungry silence.

From the deepest patch of darkness beside the mansion, a lone female figure stood motionless, half-swallowed by the shadows she now commanded.

Thick, inky tears — not clear, not salty, but pure liquid darkness — streamed silently down her pale cheeks.

Her cheeks that had forgotten the simple act of crying until this very second.

She watched him smile.

She watched him care so fiercely.

She watched him be exactly the boy she had and would always love — still her mother’s devoted son-in-law, still fighting tooth and nail for the family even after she had “died” and the world had tried, and failed, to move on without her.

He had never stopped.

“Phei~” she whispered to the shadows, voice trembling with raw, aching need.

The single word cracked something open inside her chest. A door she had kept sealed tight since the Seed of Ending had punched into her forehead and violently remade her into something darker, something hungrier, something no longer entirely human.

Selene wanted to rush forward.

She wanted to tear herself out of the darkness, cross the burning line between shadow and sunlight, and throw herself into his arms. She wanted to kiss him until the world burned — finally, after death, after endless cold nothingness, after this cruel rebirth. She wanted his hands on her body before she even felt her own mother’s embrace again.

Her Phei. Her only love.

The only person her shattered, remade heart still allowed to exist for. The only one who could make the darkness inside her feel warm instead of endless.

How could she ever repay him for this?

“PHEI~” she whispered again, louder this time. The shadows swallowed the sound greedily, understanding her hunger, her grief, and her desperate, bottomless need.

The shadows flickered in response.

Mostly Phei’s own shadow — it rose silently from the marble where it had been cast, unnoticed by anyone.

Not by Phei, not by Diana, not by her mother laughing joyfully beside the new car.

The dark shape lifted like a living thing, reaching toward him with eerie tenderness, and caressed his cheek with a touch lighter than a breath, colder than midnight.

Through the connection with that same shadow, Selene felt his warmth.

Through the shadow.

Through whatever dark, twisted miracle the Seed had granted her.

His living heat flooded into her — rich, vibrant, intoxicating. Her body shuddered violently with pleasure and pain all at once. Warmth she hadn’t felt in so long. Warmth she had believed was lost forever. Warmth that made the darkness inside her sing, weep, and hunger in the same maddening breath.

A soft, broken moan escaped her lips.

“Hey, sneaky~”

Eira’s cheerful, teasing voice cut through the moment like a cold blade through silk.

Selene froze.

Images are going to be added

Images for both cars