Peerless Perverted Actor Has a Celebrity Harem?!

The day after the negotiations was suspiciously normal.

That was probably the first sign something was wrong.

Park woke up expecting another phone call from his team, stack of papers, another meeting where five adults explained that a harmless-looking sentence on page forty-three could theoretically steal his grandchildren’s money.

Instead, NX and Evelyn and his teams had disappeared into the final-drafting stage of the contracts, Sloane had told him she would call if anything actually required his attention, and Tessa had apparently decided there was no financial emergency severe enough to ruin his morning.

For the first time in several days, Park had nowhere important to be or anything important to do.

Naturally, he went downstairs and tortured himself in the gym.

By now his body had made the experience considerably less miserable than his first sessions. His body recovered faster, learned faster and somehow understood what he wanted from it before Park’s mind had finished complaining.

He spent nearly three hours downstairs, showered, ate enough afterward to make one of the kitchen staff look impressed, then disappeared into his room with his phone, notebook and the vague intention of doing absolutely nothing productive for at least an hour.

That lasted eleven minutes before his public phone buzzed.

Park glanced at it, expecting another message from Sloane.

Instead, the number at the top of his Igram profile caught his attention.

He frowned and refreshed and refreshed again because watching a number increase somehow became more convincing when abused repeatedly.

His following had climbed by a little over 2,000since yesterday.

Park leaned back against the headboard:

"Well, hello."

He had already crossed 50,000 followers before the contract meeting. Now he was comfortably above 52,000, and he hadn’t posted anything new, performed publicly or even officially been announced by NX yet.

Most of the traffic was still coming from the same strange little ecosystem Emmeline and Jessie had thrown him into. Old photographs from Empire Mall kept resurfacing, small entertainment accounts had begun referring to him as NX Arc’s mysterious new actor, which was impressive considering NX hadn’t announced him as anything yet.

One particularly committed account had enlarged a photograph until Park’s left hand occupied most of the frame and written several paragraphs identifying the rings he’d been wearing.

’People in this world desperately need hobbies.’

Park respected it.

He opened his notifications and scrolled for a while.

Thousands of comments; a surprising number asking whether he was single, several demanding to know what project he was doing, one woman had written that she would sell her brother for his phone number.

Park considered replying to ask what condition the brother was in but he decided public relations might prefer Nathaniel Park’s first scandal not involve suspected human trafficking.

His phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Emmeline.

That improved the afternoon considerably.

By evening, it improved it perhaps a little too much.

Emmeline was sitting in the couch of Park’s living space, and Park was standing between her knees while whatever conversation had originally brought her into his room had deteriorated beyond recovery.

The first kiss had been almost respectable but second one had absolutely no interest in maintaining that reputation.

Her hands slid behind his neck as Park leaned closer, one palm settling naturally against her waist while the other braced beside her on the couch; Emmeline kissed him harder, and Park, being a responsible nineteen-year-old gentleman deeply committed to reciprocal effort, answered with enthusiasm.

Her fingers moved into his hair.

Park drew her closer.

For a few very pleasant moments, the world reduced itself to warm lips, soft laughter between kisses and the faint scent of her perfume lingering around him. Emmeline pulled away first, only far enough to breathe, and caught him smiling.

"You’re enjoying yourself way too much."

Park looked deeply offended. "I’m trying to be polite and hold myself back from the things I want to do to you."

"You’re?" Emmeline laughed, and Park kissed her before she could say anything even more disrespectful.

He had just started considering whether the universe had perhaps finally apologized properly for his first life when the door handle moved.

Park and Emmeline froze and the entire world froze with them.

"Park?" Aveline? Park’s soul left his body, inspected the situation from the ceiling and immediately filed for asylum.

Emmeline’s eyes went wide.

Park stepped backward so quickly he nearly struck the side table before he remembered one gloriously important fact:

’The door is locked.’

He looked toward the door: ’Thank the fucking locks, thank you, human paranoia.’

"Yeah?" he called out immediately.

"What are you doing?" Park looked back at Emmeline, her messy hair looked guilty her lips looked extremely guilt and they shared a shade of lipstick now too while his own shirt had somehow become partially untucked, which felt less like evidence and more like a signed confession.

"I am working."

Emmeline’s shoulders began shaking in contained laughter.

Park glared at her.

"On what?" Aveline asked from the hallway.

"Career stuff." Why was she even asking? Hadn’t they cut ties like days ago?

’Big sister, are you missing this little brother teasing you?’

Emmeline pressed both hands over her mouth: "Career stuff? Really Park?" She whispered.

Park had never hated silent laughter more.

There was a brief pause outside: "Career stuff requires locking the door?"

Park frowned. ’And why do you care what I do with my fucking room.’

There were very few good answers available to him.

"I am nineteen."

There was a pause before Aveline sighed as if realizing this was none of her business and more questions would be another chasm between them.

"Dinner in twenty minutes."

"Got it." Like he’d even bother joining them.

Her footsteps moved away, Park waited before he finally crossed the room and pressed one ear against it.

Nothing.

When he turned around, Emmeline was openly laughing.

"That," Park whispered, "was nearly a family funeral!"

"Your face."

"My face saved us, you should respect it my love."

"You looked terrified."

"I’ve seen my sister angry, imagine if she finds out her sister and brother are lovers now." Park pointed toward her hair. "Fix that before you go."

Emmeline touched it. "What’s wrong with my hair?"

"It currently says my brother was conducting career research on my body."

Her eyes narrowed.

"And your lips."

She picked up one of the pillows and threw it at him, Park caught it against his chest and laughed: "Violence after affection. Very toxic."

"Shut up."

***

Anyway, the most important conversation of the day came later, and, annoyingly, it made Park more nervous than nearly being caught making out in his bedroom.

He found Quinn near the smaller security office attached to the western corridor, standing beside a narrow console with a tablet in one hand while she reviewed something with another household security officer. Park almost called her immediately but he waited until the other man walked away before waited another few seconds for absolutely no useful reason.

This shouldn’t have been difficult.

He flirted with Quinn almost every day, held her hand whenever they were alone and even hugged her at times, teased her about jealousy and so, asking a woman whether she wanted a job should have been significantly easier than any of those things.

But, it wasn’t, because this wasn’t really asking whether she wanted a job.

Quinn already had one, a serious one, job:

She had built an actual career in security, risen high enough to become one of the Chancellor’s senior guards and currently she had sat second in the command structure beneath the head of that detail before she was assigned to him. Park was essentially preparing to walk over and ask a talented adult woman to step sideways out of the career she’d built so she could spend her days reminding him he had an interview at eleven and preventing him from accidentally leaving his script in a car.

While he flirted with her constantly.

Quinn finally looked up from her tablet.

"Young Master?"

Park realized he’d been standing there like an idiot. "Do you have a minute?"

"Yes." She answered.

Park put both hands into his pockets and immediately hated himself for doing it because now he looked like a schoolboy asking someone to prom, he pulled one hand back out but it looked worse too.

Fuck it.

"I wanted to ask you something."

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