Evil MC's NTR Harem

Althea had indeed told him more, and from that moment on, everything unfolded at a breakneck pace.

"Guys, have you heard the latest buzz in Hollywood? Althea Oakley is making a comeback with a new movie!"

"What?! That's insane! She's already married and pregnant and got a kid now. There's no way she'll reclaim her former glory."

"I wouldn't be so sure. Althea is a goddess when it comes to acting. She'll shine no matter what."

The chatter spread like wildfire, reaching every corner of the entertainment industry.

Social media erupted with speculation, news outlets rushed to cover the story, and fan forums were flooded with debates.

Some believed Althea's return was destined to be a triumphant success, while others doubted she could ever match her former stardom, especially now that she had a family.

But regardless of opinions, one thing was clear—Hollywood was abuzz with her name once more.

Meanwhile, Althea wasted no time. She reached out to several renowned movie producers and longtime friends in the industry.

The response was overwhelmingly positive. Everyone was thrilled at the prospect of her return, eager to see her back on the big screen.

Offers poured in from all directions—directors, studios, and agents vying to be part of her comeback. Yet, nothing could have prepared them for the bold proposition she brought to the table.

"I'm making a movie," she declared in a meeting with top industry executives, "and I want my leading man to be my husband, Ross."

A heavy silence fell over the room. No one had seen this coming.

Ross Oakley was many things—a viral sensation, a controversial figure, an enigma in his own right—but he was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a Hollywood heartthrob.

He lacked the chiseled perfection and on-screen charisma that defined the leading men of the industry.

He wasn't a seasoned actor, nor did he have the kind of reputation that would draw investors or guarantee box office success.

Choosing him as her co-star was a risk—one that no studio would be eager to take.

The hesitation in the room was palpable. Some executives exchanged uncertain glances, others cleared their throats awkwardly. Finally, one of them spoke up.

"Althea," a producer began carefully, "we all respect your talent and vision, but this… this might be a tough sell. Ross doesn't have the experience or the marketability of a leading man."

"I understand," Althea replied, her tone unwavering, "but I'm not asking for permission. I'm making this movie on my own terms."

Negotiations collapsed almost instantly. Investors hesitated. Studios withdrew their initial enthusiasm.

The industry was willing to welcome Althea back—but only on their terms, not hers.

Still, this wasn't the end of it. Not by a long shot.

"It doesn't matter, Althea. We don't need those fools to make our movie. We have money, and we'll let it do the talking for us," Ross said with a confident smile, leaning back in his chair.

Althea's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Why didn't I think of that? You really think outside the box, Ross. I love it!" She grinned before stepping forward, cupping his face, and pressing a heated kiss to his lips.

They had their plan. Now, all they needed was a great director, and the rest would be history.

Without wasting a second, Althea grabbed her laptop and began typing.

She knew exactly who to contact—a filmmaker she deeply admired, one whose past works had captivated audiences worldwide.

Someone with the artistic vision and technical mastery to turn their dream into reality.

Her fingers danced across the keyboard as she composed a concise yet enticing email.

It wasn't just about the money—though the offer she was about to make was undeniably generous.

No, this was about creating something groundbreaking. Something that would shake up the industry.

Subject: A Once-in-a-Lifetime Opportunity

Dear Mr. Lancaster,

I hope this email finds you well. I won't waste your time with pleasantries—I have a proposal that I believe will interest you. A film project unlike anything you've worked on before. It's bold, unconventional, and, most importantly, it comes with a $10 million contract for a single film.

I want you to direct it.

If you're interested, let's talk. I'll be in Parkland next week. Let me know if you'd like to discuss the details over dinner.

Looking forward to hearing from you.

Best,

Althea Oakley

She hit send, then leaned back with a satisfied smirk. Now, it was just a matter of waiting.

Miles away, in a dimly lit office filled with towering stacks of scripts and half-empty coffee cups, a middle-aged man adjusted the thick glasses on his nose and opened his inbox.

He almost ignored the email—he received hundreds of pitches a week, most of them uninspiring. But the name Althea Oakley caught his eye.

Curious, he clicked it open.

His brows lifted as he read. By the time he reached the end of the message, he was fully alert.

"Interesting…" he murmured, tapping his fingers against the desk.

A $10 million contract for a single film. That wasn't just generous—it was unprecedented. Even in his long career, filled with critically acclaimed works and blockbuster successes, he had never received an offer quite like this.

Setting his coffee down, he turned in his chair to face his wife, who was reading a book on the couch.

"Honey," he said, voice laced with excitement, "I won't be doing the Rome project after all."

She looked up, surprised. "What? But you've been talking about that one for months."

He smiled and held up his phone. "Change of plans. We're going to Parkland this year."

A week later, bags packed and tickets booked, they boarded a flight, heading straight for the opportunity of a lifetime.

***

Mr. Lancaster arrived in Parkland City and wasted no time heading straight to Ross's home. He had traveled across the world for movie deals before, but something about this particular visit felt different.

There was an air of mystery surrounding Ross Oakley, a man who had seemingly come out of nowhere and taken the world by storm.

As he stepped through the grand entrance of Ross's luxurious estate, he was immediately struck by the sight that greeted him.

"Wow…"

It was the only word that left his lips.

His first impression? Absolute shock.

The women in the room—Ross's wives—were beyond breathtaking.

He had met his fair share of beauty queens, Hollywood starlets, and top models, but none of them compared to the sheer elegance and presence of these women.

Each one of them carried an aura that was almost unreal, exuding a level of poise and refinement that couldn't be faked.

Their features were flawless, their gazes confident, their movements graceful.

It wasn't just beauty—it was something more.

They looked like they belonged in a different world. A higher plane of existence.

Mr. Lancaster wasn't a man easily impressed, but in that moment, he felt an unfamiliar pang of envy.

Ross Oakley was simply a giant above men. Not only was he obscenely rich, but he had also gathered a harem of the most stunning women he had ever seen.

It defied logic. It was the kind of thing men only dreamed about, and yet Ross was living it.

Just as he was trying to wrap his head around it, Ross and Althea finally entered the room.

Mr. Lancaster had seen Althea before—had even directed her in the past—but when she walked in, he nearly forgot to breathe.

Motherhood had done nothing to diminish her beauty. If anything, it had enhanced it.

She radiated an effortless confidence, an undeniable glow that made her even more captivating than before.

Her presence alone commanded attention, and for a brief moment, Mr. Lancaster understood why she had been considered one of Hollywood's finest.

"Hello, Mr. Lancaster," Althea greeted him warmly, extending her hand. "Thank you for taking the time to be here."

He shook her hand, nodding. "Of course. I wouldn't have missed this for the world."

With pleasantries exchanged, they moved to the lounge area, where discussions about the movie officially began.

Over the next week, negotiations were swift but intense. Mr. Lancaster had been hesitant at first, especially considering Ross's involvement as the leading man, but Althea's passion for the project was undeniable.

Her conviction was infectious, and by the end of their discussions, he found himself convinced.

Contracts were signed. The deal was sealed. The movie was happening.

With everything in place, Althea handed Mr. Lancaster the script.

"Here it is," she said, smiling. "I'd love to hear your thoughts."

Excited to see what kind of story she had in mind, Mr. Lancaster leaned back in his seat, adjusted his glasses, and began reading.

The first few pages were… unusual.

By the tenth page, his brows furrowed.

By the twentieth, his expression darkened.

By the time he reached the final act, his grip on the script had tightened, his knuckles turning white.

Silence filled the room.

His mind struggled to process what he had just read. He flipped back to the beginning, as if rereading it would somehow change the words on the page.

But no.

It was exactly as he had read it the first time.

Finally, he exhaled sharply, dropped the script onto the table, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Then, in a voice filled with sheer disbelief, he muttered the only words that came to mind.

"What the fuck is this?"

He couldn't believe it. Not a single word of it.