Peerless Perverted Actor Has a Celebrity Harem?!

Aveline had grown noticeably closer to him over the last two weeks; don’t misinterpret, she still possessed the personality of a beautiful tax investigation whenever Park did something she considered stupid, but the cold distance wasn’t there the way it used to be.

She spoke to him more and even she had even started messaging him occasionally, usually about something painfully responsible, but still; progress was progress.

Park still refused family gatherings and Alexander seemed to become more irritated with every passing day, although Park had stopped wasting valuable mental energy trying to figure out which particular part of his existence had offended the Prime Minister before breakfast.

Could’ve been the his birth, could’ve been the godly face Park didnt care which.

The Chancellor had buried herself in work again while Evangeline had barely been home lately because of her internship.

And Emmeline remained Emmeline, which meant she’d somehow become even more permanently attached to his daily life and fuck the sex was good! Kids fucked like two horny rabbits.

That pretty much covered House Bennett.

Quinn had slipped comfortably into her assistant role too. She handled his movements, schedule changes, transport, calls, documents and the increasingly irritating number of people who apparently needed something from Nathaniel Park despite Nathaniel Park having released exactly fuck-all.

And naturally, Park continued flirting with her.

Quinn continued pretending she was far too professional to be affected by it.

Both of them knew that particular building had developed cracks in the foundation and he could hear them when she said his name a little too carefully and she could hear them when he smiled at her like the calendar wasn’t the only thing he wanted her holding.

Their relationship had definitely moved somewhere beyond what it had been before, though exactly where remained nicely hidden from everyone in the Bennett household like a dirty secret wearing a very expensive blazer.

He had gone shopping again too, although the second trip to Imperial Park Royale had been considerably less insane than the first. Mostly they went to collect tailored clothes, a few pieces Emmeline had ordered and the dress she’d been waiting on... oh how much they fucked in the bathrooms, ahem.

Naturally, they bought more things anyway.

Nobody entered the Imperial Park Royale Towers intending to behave financially. That was probably against building policy and Lane had been there again.

Her reaction when she saw Park almost made the whole trip worth it by itself.

She had looked at him once and again and her eyes moved properly over him, and whatever professional restraint usually sat behind her face had needed a second to catch up. Several things she’d fitted him on barely two weeks earlier already needed minor alterations because Park’s shoulders, chest and waist had changed just enough to affect how the fabric sat.

Park considered her reaction and sex stamina with Emmeline the finest gym reviews he’d received.

Lane had also become considerably bolder by their third meeting. Emmeline had always wandered off into another conversation with her friends while Park stood there getting jackets checked, waistlines adjusted and shirts inspected over his changing frame and while Lane’s hands remained perfectly professional; her eyes occasionally filed for independence.

Park noticed and he liked being looked at a little too much too, and Lane had the kind of stare that made a fitting room feel like a bad idea with excellent lighting.

Those same visit eventually turned into something suspiciously close to a group date with Emmeline’s elite circle. He and the noble girls ate together in one of the SkyBridge restaurants, laughed for hours and behaved exactly like a collection of obscenely wealthy young people who had never once needed to calculate whether ordering another appetizer would ruin the monthly budget.

Most of the girls stopped just short of openly flirting with Park.

They were nobles and heiresses, after all:

Raised with manners, social restraint, proper etiquette and all those lovely things designed to keep rich people from climbing onto tables during dinner even though they wanted to get into his pants.

Although wasn’t the whole get into your pants expression technically aimed at men?

’What is the female version?’

Park had never investigated.

Jessie, meanwhile, clearly had no interest in contributing to the research.

After that first cheek kiss outside AVC, the two had somehow developed a habit of adding one tiny step every time they met, one more inch of trouble, like they were both pretending not to notice the floor giving way.

Jessie called him and they’d talk for minutes stretching into an hour and he’d call her too, sometimes they ate with everyone else on the group date but sometimes Jessie simply asked whether he was free, and the two disappeared somewhere together for a few hours without needing Emmeline or another group around them and went to dates.

It was nothing dramatic but just food, driving, talking and laughing and sitting somewhere far too expensive doing absolutely nothing useful.

Jessie had learned Park possessed a warm sense of humor with a darker corner hiding inside it, while Park discovered Jessie was much easier to be around when she wasn’t surrounded by twenty people who already knew her surname, family wealth and follower count and she was the only daughter of her wealthy family even before she opened her mouth.

’Easier to want, too,’ which he was trying very politely not to make the whole point.

She flirted with him and he flirted with her, obviously.

He was not dead.

Well, not anymore.

But he didn’t make getting underneath Jessie’s dress and pants the point of their relationship.

Slowly, patiently, he had started crawling his way into Jessie’s little noble heart like a very handsome parasite with good taste.

He had worried about Emmeline at first, after all, Jessie was her friend, and Park didn’t particularly want his pretty face accidentally blowing up their friendship since he fucked Emmeline and his woman while he wanted Jessie too.

Yet Emmeline seemed almost suspiciously fine with everything.

Park made sure she knew whenever Park went out with Jessie not sneaking around, she smiled when Jessie flirted with him in front of everyone and she’d been taking photographs of them together and complained they weren’t close enough.

Was Emmeline simply that confident Park would never abandon her?

Or was it...

Nope.

Park had already murdered that train of thought and buried the body somewhere several days ago.

Some trains did not deserve tracks.

Another thing to note, Jessie wasn’t the only elote girl slowly colonizing his phone contacts either.

The more time he spent around Emmeline’s circle, the more names of these noble girls appeared in his phone.

He texted some of them, a few called him randomly and group chats started including him.

They took photos with him so much from restaurants, shopping trips and random outings kept tagging Nathaniel Park whether he’d personally posted anything or not.

And somehow, all of that social outings with these famous people had begun doing very useful things to his numbers.

Two weeks ago, Park had been sitting around 52,000 followers on Ingram.

Now he sat smugly at 65,000

Sixty-five thousand fucking people.

Park had stared at the number that morning for nearly a minute.

He had done nothing, the series The City had not even aired yet and he had no song released or interview much less an official debut.

The man had essentially existed handsomely near rich women these past week and collected another 13,000 more witnesses.

On Witter, he was sitting just shy of 20,000 followers.

Park actually laughed when he caught himself thinking just shy of 20,000.

Listen to this bastard.

Twenty thousand human beings had apparently become some tiny number hiding shyly in the corner now.

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