Evil MC's NTR Harem

Peter raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting from casual to concerned as he took in her appearance. "Why? Is it forbidden to visit my girlfriend now?" he asked, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. But his lighthearted tone faded quickly as his eyes swept over her. "What's wrong, Maya? Where are you going dressed like that?"

His gaze lingered on her attire, and Maya felt a surge of panic as she realized what he must be thinking. The dress—a black, figure-hugging mini that clung to her curves—wasn't something she normally wore, especially not around Peter. It was bold, provocative, and practically screamed for attention.

Peter's confusion deepened, his brow furrowing as he searched her face for answers. "You look like you're heading to a party or… something else." His voice trailed off, the last two words carrying an edge of suspicion.

Maya froze, her mind scrambling for an explanation. The weight of his scrutiny felt unbearable, and for a moment, she considered slamming the door in his face. But Peter wasn't someone she could just brush aside. He cared about her, genuinely, and he wouldn't let this go without answers.

"I…" she began, but the words caught in her throat. Her lips parted and closed as she struggled to form a coherent response. What could she possibly say? That she was being forced into this? That her life was no longer her own?

Peter's expression softened as he noticed the distress in her eyes. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Maya, talk to me. What's going on? You don't look okay."

Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back. She couldn't involve him in this. Not Peter. Not someone she cared about. If Ross found out…

Her hands clenched at her sides as she took a shaky breath. "I… I have plans tonight," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Peter frowned, clearly unconvinced. "With who? What kind of plans?"

She looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "It's nothing. Just… something I have to do."

Peter's jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened with concern. "Maya, if something's wrong, you need to tell me. Whatever it is, I can help you."

His words cut deep, and for a fleeting moment, she wanted to believe him. But this wasn't something anyone could help her with. Not even Peter.

"Tell me. What is it?" Peter's voice was gentle but insistent as he took another step toward her, his arms extending instinctively, wanting to hold her, to reassure her that everything would be okay. But Maya stepped back, her eyes wide with a flicker of panic, and her hands curled into fists at her sides as if to keep him at arm's length.

"Please, Peter, just go home," she said, her voice strained and uneven. "Now isn't the time. I have… somewhere I need to be tonight."

Peter's heart tightened at her words, but it didn't take a seasoned investigator like him to realize that she was lying. He could see it in her eyes—the way they darted around as if searching for an escape, the way her lips trembled ever so slightly. She wasn't telling the truth. And that wasn't something Maya Pierce ever did.

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He didn't move, standing still in the doorway, weighing his next words carefully. He had known her for two years now—long enough to understand her mannerisms, her subtle expressions, and the way her mind worked. Maya was a private investigator, sharp and intuitive, and she had always been the one to take control, to face whatever challenges life threw at her without hesitation.

Peter had always admired that about her. She wasn't like the other women he'd known—she was strong, independent, and unapologetically honest. But tonight? Tonight, something was different.

Peter Montgomery wasn't just any young man—he was the chief of police for Parkland City at just twenty-five years old, a position that had taken every ounce of his intelligence and willpower to earn. He was respected in his field for his keen attention to detail and his ability to read people. And right now, everything in him was screaming that Maya was hiding something.

"Maya," Peter said, his voice softening as he tried to reach her, his brow furrowing with concern. "You're lying to me. I can see it. I know you. And I know when something's off."

Maya shifted uneasily, her gaze flickering away from him as if she couldn't bear to meet his eyes. Her lips pressed together tightly, her jaw clenched as she struggled with the weight of the moment. Peter's stomach twisted, his heart pounding with a growing sense of unease. Whatever was going on, it was serious.

"Maya," he repeated, stepping a little closer, his tone unwavering but gentle, "you don't have to face this alone. Whatever it is, I'll help you. You know that, right?"

Her eyes flicked to him for a moment, and for the briefest of seconds, Peter thought she might break down, that she might let him in. But then, just as quickly, she hardened herself again.

"Please, Peter," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "just trust me on this. Go home. You'll only make things worse if you stay."

Peter shook his head, his jaw tightening. Trust wasn't the issue. Trust had never been the issue. Maya had always trusted him, and he had always trusted her. This was something different, something he couldn't quite put his finger on, but he could feel it deep in his gut—the creeping sensation that something was terribly wrong.

"I'm not leaving you like this," Peter said firmly, his voice taking on an edge of resolve. "I don't know what's going on, but I can't just walk away. You're my girlfriend, Maya, and I care about you. Whatever it is, you can't keep pushing me away. You're not alone in this."

Her face paled at his words, and for the first time, she looked afraid—truly afraid. Maya Pierce, the woman who had always been fearless, was afraid. And that realization sent a jolt of terror through Peter.

"Maya, please," he implored, his voice quieter now but no less earnest. "You can't shut me out. You've never acted like this before. We've been through so much together, and you've never kept things from me. Whatever's going on, we'll figure it out together."

Maya's eyes welled with tears, but she blinked them back before they could fall. She was fighting something, some internal battle, and Peter could see that. He could see the conflict raging inside her, the way she wanted to reach out but couldn't.

"I'm sorry," she finally said, her voice choked with emotion. "I'm just… I'm trying to protect you. This is bigger than both of us, Peter. I can't let you get involved."

Peter felt a chill run down his spine as he absorbed her words. "What do you mean, 'bigger than both of us'?" he asked, his voice low, every ounce of his attention focused on her.

Maya's gaze flickered nervously around the room, as if the walls themselves were closing in on her. She took a deep breath, her hands trembling. "I can't explain everything right now. But I promise, if you care about me… you'll leave. You'll go home. Please, just go home."

Peter felt a mix of frustration and helplessness, but he didn't back down. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me the truth, Maya."

Her lips trembled as she opened her mouth to speak, but then, as if some invisible force held her back, she closed it again. The silence stretched between them, suffocating, and Peter could see the weight of the secrets she was carrying.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Maya exhaled slowly, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I'm sorry, Peter," she whispered, her voice barely a breath. "But this… this is something I have to do alone."

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Peter's heart ached as he looked at her, but he knew one thing for sure—whatever it was that Maya was hiding, whatever darkness was threatening her, he wasn't going to let her face it alone. He just needed to find a way to break through the walls she had built around herself, before it was too late.

Alas, it seemed that fate had other plans, and Peter wouldn't remain unaware for much longer.

"Ehem..." A voice cleared its throat from behind the couple.

"It seems I came at just the right time." The voice was unmistakably young, but when Maya heard the familiar tone of our op evil mc, a chill ran through her, and her breath hitched in her chest.

It was as if the air had been knocked out of her, and her body went rigid. The words barely registered as panic consumed her, her heart racing in her ears.

She couldn't help but gasp, her breath coming in shallow bursts, each one feeling like it could be her last. She felt the world around her begin to blur, as if she were on the edge of passing out.

She hadn't seen him in person for just a day—less than that, even, only a few hours since their last encounter—and yet hearing his voice again, so close, made her feel as though she were trapped in a nightmare she couldn't escape from.

The familiar tone twisted something deep inside her, the dread that had been simmering beneath the surface now boiling over.

It was as if the walls were closing in, suffocating her, and every instinct screamed at her to run, to escape.

But she was frozen, paralyzed by the haunting realization that she was no longer in control of her own fate. Maya Pierce wished for the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

Every nerve in her body screamed for escape, but the ground beneath her felt solid and unyielding, trapping her in a moment she couldn't escape.

She was willing to fulfill her end of the deal, and spread her legs and get fucked by Ross, but not like this—not in front of her boyfriend, Peter.

The thought of it made her stomach twist, and her mind raced to find a way out, but she felt powerless in the moment.