My Taboo Harem!

Chapter 825: Enemy of Yesterday...

Adriana said something Roxanne didn’t quite catch — lost in the heavenly narcotic of fingers in her hair and the warm weight of Melissa’s thighs beneath her cheek — and Melissa laughed. Full. Genuine laugh Roxanne had never heard from this woman in a decade of forced proximity.

"You shouldn’t worry about that at all," Melissa said, her voice softening. "You’re still just as ravishing as ever. Nothing to fret over. Truly."

"Oh, fuck off with your compliments, Mel — you’re just being polite and we both know it — the truth is I’m getting old—"

She paused.

Adriana’s eyes, visible on the oversized screen, narrowed as they studied her friend’s face through the camera.

"—Gosh. How are you only getting prettier? How is that — Mel, you look — you look incredible. What are you doing? What have you changed? Your skin looks —"

"This isn’t about me. This is about you." Melissa redirected with the surgical efficiency like she had been deflecting compliments since adolescence. "And you are doing perfectly fine."

Adriana laughed — quieter now, the volume knob finally finding a register below aircraft engine. "I bet if my husband had you as a wife, he’d never take his hands off you. Unlike this old hag."

Melissa laughed. Loud. Unguarded. "Old hag. Who are you kidding, Adriana?"

Melissa couldn’t help but think how ridiculous that was. Adriana was a certifiable catastrophe of curves and bone structure; a body that made men walk into lampposts and reconsider the fundamental purpose of their existence.

And she was sitting there, on that screen, calling herself old — calling herself a hag — because her husband had the perceptive capacity of a man who had been staring at spreadsheets in Dubai for so long he’d forgotten what his wife looked like in lingerie.

’Phei, on the other hand, has been quietly obsessed with Adriana for longer than I want to calculate right now.’

The thought sent a hot, possessive spark straight through her as she glanced down at Roxanne resting so comfortably in her lap.

On the outside, Melissa smiled. "You know what — don’t take my word for it... let’s get a third opinion."

She tilted the phone.

The camera swung downward, capturing Roxanne — still reclined in Melissa’s lap, dark honey hair fanned across her thighs, blinking up at the screen with the startled, deer-caught-in-headlights expression of not had not consented to being introduced into this conversation and was now being presented to it face-first.

Adriana’s reaction was instantaneous.

Her eyes widened as her mouth fell open. And then — with the velocity loyalty operated on a hair-trigger and whose territorial instincts regarding Melissa Ryujin Tiamat had been honed across fifteen years of exclusive best-friendship — her expression curdled from surprise into something considerably less hospitable.

"What the — Roxanne Montgomery?!"

Roxanne opened her mouth. Did not get a syllable out.

"What the hell are you doing with my friend?!" Adriana’s voice had climbed back to its original detonation-grade volume, the brief interval of indoor acoustics abandoned entirely. "After all the rumours you’ve been making sure reach everyone about—"

"Adriana." Melissa’s voice cut through the tirade with the clean, surgical precision like scalpel parting tissue. Calm. Unraised. Carrying the particular authority, as she did not repeat herself and expected the first utterance to suffice:

"I’ve already made up with Roxanne. We’re friends now. A good welcome would do."

There was a one single, suspended, tectonic beat.

And Adriana shifted.

Not gradually or with cautious, incremental adjustment of a woman reconsidering her position.

She rotated one hundred and eighty degrees — emotionally, tonally, atmospherically — with the instantaneous, whiplash-inducing totality like she was a weather system that had been producing a hurricane and decided, between one second and the next, that sunshine was the superior meteorological policy.

"Roxanne! Oh my God, hi! It’s been so long! How are you? You look amazing — is that a new — are you using a new moisturiser? Your skin looks incredible — welcome to the team, babe!"

Roxanne stared at the screen.

Then slowly — very slowly — rotated her head to look up at Melissa.

The expression on her face was a masterclass in the genre of what the actual fuck.

Melissa shrugged.

One shoulder. Minimal effort; she had been managing Adriana’s personality for fifteen years and had long since abandoned any expectation that the transitions between hostility and warmth would occur at speeds comprehensible to the uninitiated.

That’s just how she is. You’ll adjust. Or you won’t. Either way, she’s already decided you’re family.

Roxanne returned her bewildered gaze to the screen, where Adriana was beaming at her with the incandescent, completely unironic warmth; she had been one second away from calling her a bitch approximately four seconds ago and appeared to have no recollection of the event — as if she hadn’t been ready to tear her apart earlier.

"But—" Adriana’s brow furrowed, the warmth fading for a second as real confusion took over. "How are you two even together right now? Mel, you and Roxanne haven’t been in the same room without drawing blood in — what, ten years? What happened? When did — how did —"

"Long story. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow."

"You can’t just — Mel, you can’t just show me Roxanne Montgomery lying in your lap and say long story! That’s not — that’s —"

"Tomorrow, Adriana."

"You are the most infuriating woman I have ever —"

"Tomorrow."

Adriana let out a long sigh, she had been outplayed by Melissa’s short answers many times before and knew fighting it was pointless.

"Fine. Fine. But I have questions. So many questions. An unreasonable number of questions."

"I would expect nothing less."

Then — as if remembering the insecurity she had been talking about before Roxanne appeared — Adriana leaned closer to the camera.

Her eyes narrowed, locking onto Roxanne with the sharp focus of someone ready to get a straight answer.

"Roxanne."

"...Yes?"

"Melissa says I’m still attractive. That I haven’t lost it. That I’m —" she made air quotes with her fingers "— just as ravishing as ever. Now. I need you to tell me the truth."

Her voice dropped, gaining a sharp edge. "And I swear to God, if you lie to me just to get in my good books after whatever miracle happened tonight, I will know. I have a sixth sense for flattery and zero tolerance for bullshit. So — and I mean this with all the love in my heart, Roxanne — am I still hot or am I lying to myself?"