Evil MC's NTR Harem

A small group began to gather around the TV, already throwing out random ideas.

"What about a horror film? We got lots of beautiful girls here to cast, lots of screaming, not much acting needed."

"Rom-com might be easier. We've got couples in the house. We can build around real chemistry."

"Nah, action! Let's do stunts, fight scenes—get physical!"

Corey tuned out the chatter for a moment, his mind elsewhere.

He wasn't worried about acting or the camera. He was thinking about Cara.

The moment this task dropped, he knew she'd be part of it too—and that meant Big D would find a way to get close to her under the excuse of rehearsing, acting, or building chemistry.

"Shit…" he muttered under his breath.

This task wasn't just about teamwork or creativity anymore.

It was another battlefield—and the stakes were growing by the hour.

Back in the living area, one of the producers entered with a stack of printed instructions and props.

A production kit had been wheeled in as well—costumes, camera gear, a few lighting rigs, and sound equipment.

"Oh damn… this is legit," someone whispered, eyes wide.

"Three days," the producer said, smiling.

"Plan your scenes, cast your roles, write your script, rehearse, shoot, and edit. Everything's in your hands now."

The room went silent again.

Then, slowly but surely, the wheels started turning.

A couple of hours later, after much debate and a few disagreements, the team finally settled on their genre: romantic comedy.

It wasn't the most original idea, but it was simple, relatable, and easy to execute within the confines of the house.

The setting itself gave them all they needed—cozy corners, awkward run-ins, group dynamics, and just enough drama to pull something interesting off.

The premise was straightforward.

A group of close friends decide to take a vacation together, thinking it would be a relaxing escape.

But as the days pass, secrets begin to unravel, misunderstandings snowball, and unspoken feelings rise to the surface.

The story would center on a couple—best friends who were just on the verge of becoming more—whose relationship is put to the test as the chaos unfolds.

Everyone seemed content with the direction, gathering their props, organizing the shoot locations inside the house, and handing out roles.

Laughter echoed through the living room as someone tried to choreograph a scene involving spilled drinks and mistaken confessions.

For a moment, the atmosphere felt lighthearted and united.

Then Ross finally spoke up.

"This isn't going to turn out well," he said calmly, arms folded across his chest.

"Seth's a decent actor, I'll give him that. But directing? That's a whole other game. He's not ready for it. I could take over. I've got experience in this field."

His words cut through the buzz of conversation like a blade. The room went quiet almost instantly.

Everyone turned toward him. Tension brewed in the silence.

A few exchanged uneasy glances, while others looked away, unsure of what to say.

Ross's confidence was undeniable, but so was his intimidating presence.

The house had grown used to his unpredictable nature and domineering aura, and not everyone liked it.

Only his women looked calm, sitting comfortably as if they already knew the outcome.

They didn't even flinch.

They had seen this before—Ross taking control, reshaping everything around him with sheer will.

The first to speak up was Corey, the de facto leader of the project and the one who had put the most effort into organizing things.

He met Ross's gaze and forced a smile, though his jaw was slightly clenched.

"Thanks, Big D," Corey said, trying to keep things cordial.

"But we've got it handled. The group already agreed on the plan. I think most of us are satisfied with how it's shaping up."

Ross didn't argue. He just gave a small shrug, his expression unreadable.

He knew how these things worked. No need to force his way in. Not yet.

"I see," he said simply, then turned his attention elsewhere—specifically to Cara, who was helping adjust a prop in the background.

His gaze lingered a moment too long, and a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

Her laugh, the way she moved, the curve of her back as she bent over to fix something—it all caught his attention effortlessly.

Ross didn't mind being brushed off. He had patience.

He didn't need to push; he just needed to wait.

Opportunities always came to those who watched quietly.

And he was very good at watching.

Soon enough, something would go wrong.

A scene would fall apart, someone would mess up, and the group would start looking for a solution.

When that moment came, he'd step in—cool, calm, and capable—and they'd welcome him with open arms.

And Cara? Ross was confident. She wouldn't resist him for long.

Very soon, everything he wanted would be within reach.

Evening fell, and the group finally gathered in the main room to begin filming.

The lights were set up hastily, casting uneven shadows against the walls.

Someone held a boom mic overhead while another balanced the camera on a borrowed tripod.

"Lights."

"Camera."

"Action."

With the cue given, the first scene began.

At first, spirits were high.

Laughter bubbled up between takes, and some of the cast threw themselves into their roles with wide smiles and dramatic gestures.

The opening scene was supposed to be a lighthearted moment between friends—easy, low-stakes.

But the problems started almost immediately.

"What the fuck are you doing, Hugh? Focus!"

"Put more emphasis on your facial expression! You look like a corpse!"

"Alice, that's not right! You missed the cue again. Start over!"

Seth's voice, which had begun cool, collected, and full of creative excitement, slowly lost its luster.

He'd taken the role of director seriously, determined to prove he could lead the group and make something worth watching.

But as the hours dragged on, that enthusiasm gave way to visible exasperation.

Take after take went wrong. Lines were mumbled or forgotten.

Blocking was all over the place.