Evil MC's NTR Harem - Chapter 1061
Chapter 1061: Chapter 1061 Capital
Miku made sure that Ace was fast asleep before she even dared to move.
The sound of his slow, steady breathing filled the dimly lit room, and for a moment, guilt pressed heavily on her chest.
She sat by the edge of the bed, her fingers trembling slightly as she brushed a stray lock of hair from his face.
He looked peaceful—too peaceful for the storm that she carried within her heart.
She didn’t want to hurt him any more than she already had. That was why she waited.
She waited until the clock struck midnight, until the world outside their home was silent and still, until her conscience could no longer argue with her resolve.
She rose quietly, every step careful not to make the floorboards creak.
Unbeknownst to her, Ace would never discover the truth about what was happening behind his back.
Even if he had heard her voice that night—her cries muffled against Ross’s skin—he would have never believed such a betrayal possible.
His trust was too deep, his love too pure. And that, perhaps, was what hurt Miku the most.
The hallway was dim and cold as she stepped out, her bare feet brushing against the carpet.
Each step she took toward Ross’s room felt like a step further away from who she once was.
When she reached his door, she hesitated for a heartbeat—her hand hovering above the handle, her pulse racing.
Then she opened it.
Ross was inside, sitting by the window with one leg crossed over the other.
The dim light overhead casted him in mysterious glow, outlining his sharp features in silver.
He held a bottle of wine in one hand, a glass in the other. The air smelled faintly of grapes and smoke.
He didn’t even look surprised to see her. He had been expecting her.
She watched him tip the bottle back and take a long drink straight from it, finishing what was left.
The way he handled it—with such effortless control—made it clear he wasn’t even close to drunk.
A full bottle, gone, and yet his gaze remained sharp and unshaken.
Miku realized then that Ross wasn’t a man easily affected by anything—not alcohol, not guilt, not even love.
“Come,” he said softly, setting the glass aside.
His voice was calm, almost lazy, but there was a weight to it that drew her in.
Ross leaned back on the bed, one arm resting behind his head as his eyes followed her every move.
His gaze was steady, intense, but never rushed.
He wanted to see what she would do, how far she would go.
Miku stood frozen for a moment.
The oversized shirt she wore hung loosely over her frame, and her jeans—baggy and plain—were chosen deliberately to hide everything she could.
But she could feel his eyes stripping away those layers with ease, tracing every outline she thought she’d hidden.
Her heart pounded faster the longer he looked at her.
The silence between them was heavy, broken only by the faint ticking of the clock and the hum of her nervous breathing.
She took a hesitant step forward. Then another.
Ross didn’t move, but the faint curve of a knowing smile played on his lips.
Miku swallowed hard. She hated that her body trembled—not from fear, but from anticipation.
She hated that her heart could still race like this for another man when her husband slept only a few steps away.
But still… she walked closer.
She moved to the bed and lay down stiffly, as if her body had forgotten how to bend or respond.
Like a lifeless figure, she stared at the ceiling, forcing herself to remain calm.
If she was going to surrender to him again tonight, she told herself she would not repeat the recklessness of their first encounter.
No wild abandon, no reckless giving in—just control, precision, restraint.
She could manage that, couldn’t she? She hoped so.
Ross didn’t wait long. His voice, low and teasing, cut through the quiet room like a warm knife.
“What’s the matter, Miku?” His eyes glimmered with that dangerous confidence that always made her chest tighten.
“You and I were already too close the other day. Or have you forgotten that so quickly? Doesn’t matter—I suppose I’ll just have to remind you.”
Even as he spoke, he moved toward her, steps silent yet heavy with intent.
There was no hesitation, no pause for consent beyond the one unspoken in the room.
And when he leaned down, his lips claimed hers with ease, boldness, and familiarity, leaving no room for argument.
Miku’s body stiffened at first, her mind telling her to resist.
“Stay calm,” she whispered silently to herself. But her body didn’t listen.
His scent—the mixture of cologne, sweat, and that indefinable something that was uniquely Ross—hit her senses in an overwhelming wave.
It made her heart beat faster, made her breath hitch, made her skin prickle with awareness.
The warmth of his chest, broad and strong, pressed lightly against her, and somehow, in that pressure, she felt both exposed and safe at the same time.
She tried to remain passive, tried to let herself be like she had planned: controlled, restrained.
But within minutes, Ross’s hands, his lips, and the heat radiating from his body had already begun to erode her carefully constructed walls.
Each kiss seemed to pull more from her than the last, as if he were reading her body and unraveling it piece by piece.
She could feel her pulse thrumming through her veins, each beat echoing in her ears.
Her mind raced, conflicted between guilt and desire, between fear and longing.
She hated that she responded so quickly, hated the ease with which he made her melt under his touch.
Yet, even as she hated it, part of her craved it.
Every lingering kiss, every gentle pressure of his lips, every brush of his hands against her skin was a reminder of the night they had shared—and of the invisible bond that had formed between them since then.