Evil MC's NTR Harem

Corey wasn't having it.

"You're using that script as an excuse! You want to kiss her. Don't act like you don't. You've been getting close to her every chance you get!" he shouted, pointing a trembling finger.

"She's my girlfriend. I haven't even kissed her yet!"

Silence.

Even the sound guys stopped adjusting their gear.

The only thing that could be heard was the faint hum of the lights.

Cara blinked. Her lips parted, but no words came.

Ross turned his head slightly, studying Corey.

"Then maybe that's something you should take up with her, not me."

The words hung in the air, heavy as iron.

Ross looked back at Cara now.

"If you're not comfortable with the scene, say the word. We'll cut it. We'll rewrite it. I won't force it."

He gave a slight shrug.

"Or… if you feel like someone else would fit the role better, we can make that happen too."

And then it happened—every single person on set turned their gaze to Cara.

Dozens of eyes. Dozens of silent questions.

Was she going to go through with the kiss? Was she going to stand by her boyfriend?

Or was something changing inside her?

Her lips trembled.

"I…"

She swallowed. Her voice was barely a whisper. "I don't know."

Her gaze dropped to the floor. Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths.

Her thoughts were a whirlwind.

Why did Corey have to shout like that? Why now?

Why did it hurt more than she expected when Ross offered to replace her?

Why was she hesitating? Wasn't this just acting? Just a dumb weekly quest for a tv show?

Corey stepped closer to her, voice quieter now but no less intense.

"Cara, please. Don't do this. You don't need to kiss him. This isn't you."

Cara looked at him.

He was angry. Hurt. Possessive.

But he was also pleading.

She turned her head slowly to Ross.

He stood like a pillar—calm, patient, unmoving. He wasn't begging.

He wasn't pleading. He was giving her a choice. He was giving her the power.

And suddenly, something clicked inside her.

She straightened.

Her voice came out stronger this time.

"I agreed to do this scene. I knew what it was. I read the script. I'm not being forced."

Corey's eyes widened. "Cara—"

"I'm not saying it's easy," she interrupted, "but this is my decision. You can't keep trying to control everything I do just because we're together."

"We're not just together—we're real," he said, voice cracking again. "That kiss might be fake to you, but to me—"

"To you, it's about ownership," she snapped, and then instantly regretted how harsh it sounded.

But it was already out there.

She turned back to Ross, who simply nodded.

"Let's do the scene," she said.

Cara finally stepped forward, ready to do the scene, but something inside her wouldn't settle.

A question pressed against her lips like a rising tide.

She turned to Ross, hesitating just long enough to make him pause too.

"Wait," she said softly. "Before we do this… I need to ask you something."

Ross turned toward her, his mask catching the warm studio light. He didn't speak—just waited, his silence calm but attentive.

"Why me?" she asked.

There was a small shift in his posture. A breath, maybe. But still, no answer.

Just a quiet look, unreadable behind the half-mask he wore.

Cara took a small step closer, her voice firmer now.

"Why me, D? You could've picked any one of your women to play the female lead. Heaven. Tianna. Lily. Even Joan. They're all stunning—more than enough to carry the role. And yet... you chose me."

She didn't mean for it to sound like an accusation, but the vulnerability in her tone gave it an edge she couldn't quite control.

Ross looked at her for a moment, then finally spoke.

"It's exactly because I didn't choose one of them," he said.

"This project isn't just about chemistry or looks. It's about perception. Tension. Drama."

He moved a step closer now, lowering his voice enough that only she could hear.

"If I chose Heaven or Lily, no one would be surprised. Everyone already knows we're close. There'd be no emotional stakes, no heat. But with you… it's different. The audience doesn't know what to expect. Neither does the cast."

He gestured vaguely behind him, where Corey still stood, barely keeping his fury in check.

"This triangle—this tension between me, you, and Corey? It's real. People can feel it. And people pay for real."

Cara blinked. That wasn't the answer she wanted.

"So it's just a marketing move?" she asked, her voice quieter now.

"You picked me because I make a better plot twist than a love interest?"

Ross didn't flinch. He didn't sugarcoat it either.

"Yes."

One word. Clean. Honest. Brutal.

Her breath caught for a moment, and she looked away.

She could feel the prickle of heat behind her eyes, but she blinked it away fast.

She refused to cry over this—not here, not now, not because of him.

She looked down at the floor, her grip tightening on the script she still held in her hand. "Right."

There was a long pause. She tried to process what she was feeling—resentment, maybe.

Confusion. But mostly, pain. A dull, inexplicable kind of ache.

Why did I even ask? Did I really think he'd say it was because he saw something in me? That I was different? Special?

Cara shook her head subtly, like she was trying to physically throw the thought away.

She had no time for fantasies. No space for wishful thinking.

Ross's voice came again, quieter this time, almost hesitant.

"But also…"

She looked up.

"I knew you could handle it," he said. "The pressure. The backlash. The scene. I didn't pick you just for the drama. I picked you because you're the only one in this house who could stand in the fire and not run from it."

His voice dropped to a near-whisper. "Even if it hurts."