My Taboo Harem!

Chapter 858: Skill Issue

All smiles and dangerous happiness, Catrina leaned deeper into Phei’s side the moment they stepped through the boutique doors. Her face glowed bright enough that if someone bottled whatever was happening to her right now, they could probably illuminate the entirety of Hell’s Paradise Island for five straight nights without a single lightbulb.

And she was testing him.

Oh, she absolutely was.

Phei felt it in the way she kept leaning in, little by little, like someone dipping bare toes into ocean water and trying to decide whether the drop-off was worth the dive. Tentative, curious and almost greedy.

Phei could tell she was measuring exactly how far she could sink into his warmth before finally hitting the bottom.

Unfortunately for her sanity, the waters she was testing seemed endless. Bottomless; every time she leaned just a fraction closer, Phei simply allowed it with the same natural ease as if he were breathing air with no resistance or teasing.

Which somehow made it infinitely worse for the poor girl... to good depending on a point-of-view.

Phei smiled softly before casually pulling her even closer against his chest.

The movement was simple, instinctive and warm.

Catrina’s soul nearly left her body.

Honestly, Phei saw no reason to hold back when it came to his people.

The PheiCrush Simps for example gave him everything already — their loyalty, their time, their affection, with their devotion Phei did no doubt they would march into war barefoot on a Tuesday afternoon if he casually mentioned over breakfast that it might be helpful.

’So why exactly should I become stingy when its my turn to give something back?’

Affection cost him nothing...

...And judging from Catrina’s rapidly dying ability to function like a normal human being, it apparently paid dividends that could bankrupt an emotional treasury.

Inside the boutique, luxury stopped pretending to be subtle.

The moment the massive doors opened fully behind them, the sheer scale of the interior swallowed the group whole.

The ceiling rose impossibly high to eight floors of open atrium soaring upward into cascading layers of golden-white light that spilled from a vast geometric glass canopy at the very top, flooding the entire hollow interior with a warm brilliance that made the building feel less like a store and more like the inside of a chandelier.

The entire building was the boutique.

Every floor opened inward toward the centre. Polished marble reflected the canopy glow and threw it back upward, bouncing off glass railings and lacquered displays until the whole building shimmered.

And through the dead centre of it all, rising from the ground floor to the uppermost gallery, a massive spiraling staircase twisted upward in wide golden-bronze arcs — not constructed so much as sculpted, the curves smooth and continuous and gleaming, winding around themselves in an ascending helix that looked like someone had asked an architect to design a staircase for gods and the architect had taken the brief personally.

Each revolution opened briefly onto a new floor before continuing upward, the bronze catching the canopy light and throwing it back warm, and the whole thing was so arrogantly beautiful it practically dared you to use an elevator instead.

Even the silence inside sounded expensive.

The cold from outside retreated the instant the doors shut behind them and warmth embraced the group immediately.

But despite that —

Catrina still didn’t move away from Phei.

Not even slightly.

Phei noticed but said nothing...

...Instead, he stood there quietly for a moment, simply taking the whole thing in. The lightsa and the ridiculous grandeur...

’...The absurdity of my current life.’

No matter how naturally he adapted, no matter how calm or nonchalant he appeared outwardly, moments like this still stunned him internally. Because life had not been kind to him for the past decade; not even remotely...

Yet ever since the System entered his life, the world itself had begun coughing up every luxury, every indulgence, impossible thing he’d spent years starving quietly for, as though the universe had finally checked its records, discovered an accounting error of catastrophic proportions, and was now dumping the backpay in lump sums that arrived faster than he could process them.

This was what life was supposed to feel like for the only heir of the Ryujin Tiamat bloodline:-

Not the half-abandoned existence he’d endured before and surviving like some forgotten charity case while carrying divine blood in his veins.

But this; luxury, power, warmth, people, indulgence, a life so excessive it bordered on offensive.

’How exactly am I supposed to act nonchalant about any of it?’

And the terrifying part?

This was merely the beginning.

Taking a slow breath, Phei extended the arm Catrina wasn’t monopolizing:

...Lydia reacted instantly faster than The Flash.

There was no hesitation, shame or democratic process as Lydia slid into his free side before Emily’s efficient brain even completed the thought process necessary to compete: Lydia was smooth, predatory even in occupying the space with the swift territorial like she were securing beachfront property while the market was still loading.

Emily blinked once behind them.

"...You vultures."

Lydia smiled serenely. "Skill issue."

Phei laughed quietly under his breath as Lydia shamelessly leaned against him too, pouring herself into his free side, her arm threading through his, her body pressing warm against his ribs.

And honestly? Phei enjoyed it. Dangerously so.

Two girls hanging off him in an empty luxury boutique that had been reserved entirely for his use, the golden light pouring down from the canopy above, his amethyst eyes catching it and throwing it back brighter — he looked, at that exact moment, precisely like what he was.

The Young Dragon was now flanked by two devotees, ascending a golden staircase through a temple built for excess.

Together, the three of them began climbing.

The staircase curved upward in wide gleaming arcs, each revolution opening onto another floor of luxury displays — mannequins in clothes that cost more than cars, jewellery cases glowing under recessed light, shoes arranged on glass shelves with the solemn reverence of museum artifacts — before continuing higher, the bronze railings warm under their hands.

Below them, the polished ground floor shrank, the reflected canopy light rippling across the marble like sunlight on still water.

Yet despite how enormous the boutique was — eight floors of open atrium, thousands of square meters of retail space, it was empty and not even wandering staff. The entire building had been closed off solely so Phei and his team could complete the photoshoot fitting in peace before shooting officially began.

The sheer level of wealth required to casually reserve an entire luxury building for "fitting purposes" was honestly disgusting.

Phei loved it.

Far ahead, he could already spot Landon, Brian, and David moving around near the upper levels — their cars had been parked outside earlier, so he’d known the three had arrived before them. David had a camera in his hand already.

Of course he did; David’s relationship with lens was beginning to concern Phei on a medical level.

Behind the trio, Emily followed quietly, climbing the golden staircase at her own pace while watching the scene ahead with increasingly narrowed eyes.

Specifically — the way Lydia and Catrina clung to Phei like they were participating in a competition neither had verbally acknowledged but both were absolutely, definitively, keeping score in.

Catrina had become softer since receiving the jacket. Happier and more openly affectionate.

She kept finding excuses to adjust the collar, to pull it tighter around herself, to press the lining against her bare arms — not because she was cold anymore but because every touch of the fabric reminded her whose jacket it was and whose warmth was still trapped in it, and she had decided, with the calm strategic ruthlessness; she’d stumbled into an advantage and intended to ride it until the wheels fell off.

Meanwhile Lydia, despite her teasing confidence, kept glancing toward Catrina with the quiet specific questions eyes as if asking her if this was really happening why the Crush Simp nodded.

Lydia simply adjusted strategy and moved closer to Phei whenever possible, leaning harder into his side, threading her arm tighter through his, finding reasons to laugh that required her to press her face briefly against his shoulder.

’Predatory adaptation. Truly terrifying.’

Eventually the group reached the very top floor; their destination.

This level alone would be used for the fitting and shooting — wide, open, the canopy glass directly overhead flooding the space with that warm golden-white light.

Yet somehow Emily had closed off the entire boutique.

Phei glanced around once then toward Emily, back toward the absurdly empty eight-floor luxury building that had been vacated so he could try on clothes.

He fought the urge to ask questions.

Because honestly, at this point the answer was probably just "money." Or worse — "Emily." And he wasn’t sure which of those two forces was more terrifying or which one reported to the other.

So instead he simply smiled quietly to himself.

Soon enough this whole thing would be over. He’d return to the penthouse. Sleep. And maybe — if the night unfolded properly — spoil Emily a little too.

The girl had been working herself half to death lately, and Phei had noticed as he always noticed, and the quiet list he kept of people who needed his attention had Emily’s name circled on it twice.

After all, his girls gave him everything.

The least he could do was give them something back.

Unfortunately—

’My life rarely follows plans for very long.’

And deep down, in the part of his mind that had learned through repeated catastrophic experience to distrust any evening that began this peacefully, he already knew tonight would probably become another disaster somehow.

It always did.

And he was, God help him, starting to look forward to them.