Evil MC's NTR Harem

But in all her time here, she hadn't seen a single sign of criminal activity.

She had only seen love.

And now, with no mission left to justify her presence, no deception left to hide behind, she knew she had to come clean.

"I know."

Ross smiled, his expression calm, his eyes unreadable.

Rachel blinked. "What?"

"I know." His voice was smooth, assured, as if this conversation had already played out in his mind.

Her heart pounded in her chest. No, he didn't understand—he couldn't.

"I don't think you know," she insisted, taking a step closer. "I'm not—"

"You're not who you say you are," Ross interrupted, his gaze locking onto hers. "It's fine, Rachel. I accept you for everything you are… and everything you're not."

She felt the air leave her lungs.

Her mind scrambled for an explanation. How? Since when? She had been careful, so careful. Even the agency believed her cover was intact.

"You mean…" Her voice faltered. "You knew I was an FBI agent from the beginning?"

Ross chuckled, shaking his head as if amused by her surprise.

"Rachel, of course I knew. I know everything about you." He leaned forward slightly, his presence overwhelming. "I know a lot of things, obviously. And you, my dear, have vastly underestimated me."

Rachel swallowed hard. She had expected anger, betrayal—anything but this casual, almost affectionate acceptance.

"How?" she breathed.

Ross merely smiled. "Does it matter?"

It did. It mattered more than anything. Had he been playing her from the start? Had she ever had the upper hand? The realization sent a shiver down her spine.

"Then why?" she forced herself to ask. "Why did you still agree to marry me?"

His answer came without hesitation.

"Why?" His lips curled into a smirk. "Simple. I like you."

Rachel stared at him, searching for deception, for some ulterior motive hidden beneath his words. But there was nothing—only honesty, as if the answer truly was as simple as that.

"This…" she started, but the words died on her tongue.

Ross reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was warm, grounding. "Don't worry about it," he murmured. "We'll have no more lies between us from now on."

Rachel wanted to believe him.

But somehow, she had the feeling that the biggest secrets were yet to be uncovered.

That's why she had to ask now.

"Did you kill them? Those gangs and goons that were after your superstores?"

Rachel's voice was steady, but her fingers curled into her palm as she watched Ross intently.

Ross simply grinned, lounging back in his chair with that ever-present air of confidence, as if the weight of such a question was nothing to him.

"Does it matter?"

Rachel frowned. "It does to me."

She wasn't sure what answer she was hoping for—denial, confirmation, or something in between—but she wanted the truth.

There were many things about Ross that remained an enigma, wrapped in layers of charm, power, and an almost unnerving level of control.

She had seen him as a husband, a lover, a protector, but what about the man behind it all? What about the side of him that she had been sent to investigate?

Ross chuckled, his lips quirking into a smirk. "I don't know. I certainly didn't kill them with these hands."

He lifted his hands slightly, flexing his fingers as if to show they were clean. The gesture was casual, but there was something almost mocking about it.

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "You said no more lies, and now you're back to your inscrutable self again."

"That's me in a word, isn't it? Inscrutable." Ross's smirk deepened. "It's for me to know and for you to find out. It's a fun game, isn't it, Rachel?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line. A game. Everything with Ross felt like a game, a constant back-and-forth where he always seemed to have the upper hand.

She was frustrated—infuriated even—but at the same time, there was an undeniable thrill in the way he teased her, in the way he pulled her in without giving too much away.

Ross suddenly reached out, wrapping an arm around her waist, and in one swift motion, he pulled her onto his lap.

"Come here, you."

Rachel barely had time to react before his lips captured hers in a firm, possessive kiss.

Her breath hitched, her body tensing for a brief second before melting into him.

"The children are watching," she murmured against his lips, her voice weak with protest.

Ross didn't respond—at least, not with words. His grip on her waist tightened, and his lips moved more insistently against hers, coaxing her, consuming her.

Her mind screamed at her to pull away, to remember where they were, but her body betrayed her, pressing closer instead.

She didn't know when it happened, but suddenly, she found herself straddling him.

Her thighs pressed against his, her body aching from the delicious friction. She could feel him beneath her—hard, ready—and the sensation sent a rush of heat through her veins.

"Hmmm…" Ross hummed against her lips, one hand slipping up her back, fingers tracing slow, tantalizing patterns along her spine.

Rachel shivered, drowning in the intoxicating sensation of him.

But something felt… off.

The realization hit her like a splash of cold water.

Ross never did anything lewd in front of the children. His wives should have teased them by now. The playful laughter and splashing from the pool should still be filling the air.

Slowly, hesitantly, she opened her eyes.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Everything around them was frozen.

The people by the pool, mid-laughter, their faces locked in eerie stillness. The children, caught mid-play, their bodies unmoving as if trapped in time.

The slight breeze that had been rustling the trees moments ago—gone. Even the water in the pool, which should have been rippling from all the movement, was perfectly still.

She blinked her eyes and the scene remained the same.

Rachel's pulse quickened.