My Taboo Harem!

Outside Infinity Chaos Hotel, subtlety had packed its bags, surrendered its room key and fled Paradise before anyone could drag it into the convoy.

The entrance plaza had become a traffic jam designed by wealth, hormones and people who had never once checked the price of premium fuel. Hypercars lined the black stone beneath the hotel’s towering gold-and-glass awning, their bodies flashing crimson, silver, pearl, jade and several shades of black that probably had patents, family trusts and private lawyers. Engines purred beneath polite idle limits while chauffeurs stood nearby pretending this was an ordinary morning rather than a royal migration powered by horsepower and unresolved romantic tension.

Hotel guests had stopped walking.

Staff members had stopped pretending not to stare.

Phones were rising everywhere around the plaza, because apparently privacy became a public suggestion the moment enough beautiful people gathered beside machinery worth small national budgets.

At the center of it all crouched the Pczinger 21C Sovereign.

Black, low and vicious.

It looked less like a car and more like someone had taught a tiger how to hate traffic laws, flattened it into carbon fibre and then given it an engine out of spite. Morning sunlight slid over the Sovereign’s body and disappeared into the paint, swallowed so completely that the machine seemed cut from a missing piece of day.

Phei stood beside the raised passenger door with one hand extended toward Catrina.

She placed her fingers into his.

The moment she did, her careful composure developed a very visible fracture.

Catrina had clearly promised herself she would handle this with dignity. She would accept his hand, enter the car, sit beside him and behave like a refined young woman rather than one of the founding member PheiCrush Simps who was too excited to be called his woman but Phei drew her closer.

Her eyes dropped briefly to his hand around hers, then rose to his face, and whatever speech she had prepared died on impact.

"Careful," he murmured. "The car bites."

Catrina glanced into the dark cockpit. "The car?"

Phei smiled. "We can start with that."

The blush hit her face immediately.

Phei almost respected the biological commitment before he guided her down into the passenger seat, his hand steady around hers until she was settled inside the Sovereign’s obsidian interior.

The seat embraced her in black leather and carbon trim. Golden stitching ran along the edges, subtle enough to whisper wealth instead of screaming it like the other cars surrounding them. The dashboard glowed awake in front of her, systems pulsing through the cabin while the machine recognized its owner standing outside.

Catrina ran her fingertips over the armrest.

Her expression carried the quiet disbelief of someone who had spent a long time admiring Phei from behind Emily, Lydia, several unofficial fan meetings and a mountain of women with stronger claims, only to wake up one morning and discover fate had assigned her the front seat.

Phei leaned down into the open doorway:

"Comfortable, love?"

"Yes."

The answer arrived much too quickly.

He studied her, Catrina tried again. "Very."

"That sounds like testimony."

"I am attempting not to embarrass myself."

"Inside this car?" Phei glanced around the cockpit. "Terrible strategy. The Sovereign was built specifically for bad decisions."

Her smile escaped before she could imprison it.

A few cars away, Lydia watched the entire thing happen from beside Sierra’s vehicle and felt history betray her in real time.

Catrina was rising through the ranks right before her eyes.

One day they had both been loyal assistants to Emily, proud representatives of the wider PheiCrush Simp community, helping organize information, maintain morale and pretend their collective obsession qualified as administration. Before one night that had made the cold earn her Phei’s jacket and place on his side had now turned into Catrina being personally installed into Phei’s passenger seat while he bent near enough to make her forget how vowels worked.

Lydia folded her arms.

Fast; Catrina was rising really fast.

’Actually, no.’

Fast was insulting; fast implied speed without aim. Catrina had seen the opening, drawn her bow and put the arrow directly between Cupid’s eyes before the little winged bastard even realized there was a competition.

’Now she might be closer to Phei than Emily.’

Or equal to her, at the very least.

That thought should have been impossible:

Emily had been near the summit for so long that the Simps practically used her position for navigation. Yet there was Catrina, sitting in the black tiger while Phei leaned over her with that smile, looking like a quiet rich girl had somehow speedrun an entire romance route while everyone else was still reading the tutorial.

Lydia exhaled through her nose.

"Traitor."

Beside her, Sierra followed her gaze toward the Sovereign.

"Who?"

"Catrina."

Sierra watched Phei adjust the edge of Catrina’s seat belt before straightening.

"Why?"

"She has abandoned the working class."

"You are both wealthy."

"That is not the point."

"What is the point?"

Lydia looked at her as though the betrayal should have been self-evident:

"She is in his car."

Sierra nodded slowly. "Then perhaps you should have moved faster."

Lydia’s face tightened. "We were supposed to rise together."

"Did she sign anything?"

"No."

"Then this sounds like poor governance."

Lydia stared at her.

Sierra opened the driver’s door with the calm of a woman who had just dismantled an entire emotional complaint using one administrative sentence.

’Very rude.’

Nearby, Emily and Maddie had entered their own constitutional crisis over shotgun.

"I said it first."

"You said it before we left the table," Maddie argued, gripping the passenger door with both hands. "That is premeditated shotgun. It does not count."

Emily held the opposite side. "There is no rule against premeditation."

"There is now."

"You cannot invent rules after losing."

"That is when most rules are invented."

Neither woman appeared willing to choose another car, because they had become inseparable during this particular expedition and apparently friendship now meant fighting over the same seat until the vehicle filed for divorce.

Emily tried to slide one hip into the passenger side.

Maddie blocked her with a shoulder.

Phei watched from across the plaza and decided intervention would be irresponsible. Some battles deserved witnesses, not peacekeepers.

Sienna crossed toward her own car several spaces down.

Anyone unfamiliar with her would have assumed she felt nothing.

Her face remained beautifully blank, her phone resting in one hand, her steps calm and measured. The deathly green of her clothing moved around her with the cold elegance of funeral silk, while her sovereign violet eyes treated the surrounding noise as something the universe might apologize for later.

Phei saw through it instantly:

Excitement was bubbling beneath her composure.

Tiny, viciously concealed bubbles, yes, because Sienna would probably rather crack a moon than admit she was thrilled by a day out with everyone, but they were there. He caught them in the slightly quicker rhythm of her steps. In the way she looked over the line of cars more than once.

In the faint brightness inside her eyes when one of the engines snarled.

The Nether Goddess was excited about a road trip.

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