Peerless Perverted Actor Has a Celebrity Harem?!

The eighty-ninth floor looked as though somebody had taken the entire concept of shopping, surgically removed every ordinary human inconvenience from it, poured several billions of Cels over whatever survived, and then lifted the finished product into the clouds so that poor people could not accidentally breathe near it.

A broad indoor avenue ran away from the lift lobby beneath a ceiling high enough to belong to an airport terminal—except airports contained crying children, exhausted parents, people sprinting for closing gates, and at least one grown man preparing to fight a vending machine over bottled water.

There was soft music, warm sunlight pouring through walls of glass, indoor trees rising out of polished black stone, and boutiques spaced so far apart that each one appeared to govern its own small country. Their storefronts held no flashing sale signs, no crowded displays, and absolutely nothing begging anybody to buy two shirts and receive a third at no charge.

One window held a single jacket under a spotlight. Another displayed one handbag. Further down a pair of shoes sat on a marble pedestal as though it had recently won an election and was waiting to address the nation.

Beyond the glass, Aurora Imperial City spread out in every direction and far enough below that entire skyscrapers had been reduced to ornaments arranged around the feet of the towers.

Clouds drifted close enough to brush the outer glass with their white edges burning in the sun, and one of the Imperial Park Royale Skybridges reached away toward the second tower in the distance—though calling it a bridge felt disrespectful. It looked like a whole neighbourhood suspended in the air, complete with gardens, restaurants, private lounges, and tiny moving silhouettes living their best tax-bracket lives inside it.

Park stepped out slowly.

The floor under his shoes was pale stone threaded with narrow lines of gold, and discreet digital signs floated behind panels of glass every few metres, displaying private appointments, gallery names, unreleased designer collections, restaurant reservations, members-only events, and enough instances of exclusive and restricted and by invitation only to make equality quietly pack a suitcase and leave the building.

"Damn," Park said.

Not his most intelligent observation, though it was the correct one, because for a moment it honestly felt as if the lift had not carried him several dozen floors upward so much as dropped him into a separate world—one where money did not merely purchase nicer things but removed any need to ever see anything ugly, crowded, delayed, inconvenient, or remotely honest.

He leaned toward Emmeline and narrowed his eyes at her.

She caught it immediately. "What?"

"You’re cold."

Her brows lifted. "Excuse me?"

"Heartless, actually. Possibly evil." He gestured at the impossible avenue surrounding them. "You knew this place existed and never brought me here."

Emmeline stared at him with an expression suggesting she had just learned that stupidity was contagious and her younger brother had carried it home.

She looked one bad sentence away from slapping sense into him, restrained purely by the fact that they were in public, surrounded by staff and several people.

A small sound escaped Quinn behind them.

Park looked over his shoulder. She covered it fast, though not fast enough—an actual chuckle, from his terrifying guard queen, at the prospect of his imminent death.

’Traitor,’ he thought, with enormous fondness.

He recoiled from Emmeline and raised both hands. "Okay. Peace. I can literally watch violence downloading behind your eyes."

Emmeline scoffed and folded her arms. "You are very lucky you’re my younger, handsome brother, because otherwise—"

"Otherwise?"

"You’d be finding out whether those windows are genuinely unbreakable."

Park glanced at the glass wall and the city sitting a very great distance below it. "Wow. Attempted murder, much, before shopping. Rich people really do everything early."

She rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth betrayed her, and Park laughed and reached over to ruffle her hair. The gesture was so casual and so shamelessly affectionate that Emmeline froze for half a second and abruptly looked like the younger sibling in the pairing while he destroyed the careful arrangement she had spent real time constructing that morning.

"There," he said, smoothing one rebellious strand back down afterward. "And I promise I’ll make room for you whenever you invite me somewhere from now on."

Her irritation evaporated on the spot. She attempted to conceal this and failed comprehensively.

"That’s a promise?"

"That’s a promise."

Emmeline turned to Quinn with the gravity of somebody ratifying an international treaty. "You heard him."

Quinn straightened a fraction. "I did, Young Lady."

"If he forgets?"

"I’ll remind the Young Master constantly."

Park looked between the two of them. "Constantly?"

"As often as necessary," Quinn said.

"That’s more like it," Emmeline said, satisfied.

"Great. I’ve been outvoted by my own security."

Emmeline looked Quinn up and down with open approval. "I like her much better than that grumpy man you had before."

"I told her the same thing," Park said.

Quinn’s expression tightened by one tiny degree.

"She’s also beautiful," he added, glancing at her with no shame whatsoever. "Which makes it far easier for her to blend in. Nobody looks at her and thinks security. They just think, wow, that woman is dangerously overqualified to be standing anywhere near that handsome guy, oh, wait, they match each other!"

Quinn’s jaw set; she remained professional, calm, and absolutely not blushing in front of the Young Lady and three additional members of staff—though her ears had committed treason against the empire, a faint warmth creeping across them that she could do nothing about.

Emmeline studied her more carefully, then nodded as though Park had raised a genuinely useful tactical point. "He’s right."

Quinn looked at her.

"You should lose the suit. If you’re meant to blend in while guarding him, you need clothes that make you look like you belong beside him." Emmeline’s eyes turned playful. "People will then mistake you for his girlfriend instead of his guard."

"G-girlfriend?" Did Quinn just stutter?

"Excellent camouflage," Park agreed.

Quinn inhaled slowly through her nose, doing everything within her considerable power not to react again, because blushing in front of Emmeline would have been humiliating and blushing in front of the other staff standing behind her would have been a professional funeral with catering.

"I am dressed appropriately for my position."

"Too appropriately," Emmeline said. "You look like you’re about to arrest the clothes."

Park nodded solemnly. "And some of these clothes look expensive enough to deserve it."

"Good thing we came shopping," Emmeline said. "I’ll pick a few things for you as well."

"That won’t be necessary."

"It wasn’t a question."

Before Quinn could mount a second objection Park took Emmeline’s hand and started walking, then reached back with his free hand and patted Quinn’s arm lightly on the way past.

"Come on, Guard Queen. Try to enjoy your kidnapping."

Quinn looked down at the place he had touched, then at him. Park was already walking away.

’The bastard,’ she thought.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!