Peerless Perverted Actor Has a Celebrity Harem?!

So their parents hadn’t come home last night after all.

The relief that went through him was probably a little disrespectful, and Park accepted it with gratitude anyway. He’d take as many Alexander-free mornings as the universe felt inclined to hand out, and today more than most.

His stepmother was a different question.

Park genuinely wanted to see her — the woman had somehow remained one of the most beautiful and most powerful people in the Empire while married to the man who’d spent years quietly strangling Park’s career.

She was a mother in every way the public recognized, his stepmother in the private truth, and one of the very few people alive who could make Alexander Bennett reconsider being annoying in a room.

Also, according to this body’s memories, she was hot.

Park was still nineteen and dying once had not impaired his eyes.

Unfortunately she didn’t travel alone.

Where she came home, Alexander followed, bringing the cold face and the old resentment and whatever bitter father-son weather had been marinating in this house for nineteen years.

Park could have that any other day but today.

Today belonged to the audition.

Yes, his Flawless ability meant he could perform under practically any condition. Alexander could walk into the room, call him a disappointment, cancel three projects and release wolves behind the judging panel, and Park would still deliver every note exactly as written.

That didn’t mean he wanted his father’s hatred dancing kumbaya at the back of his skull while he warmed up.

Flawless protected the performance. It did nothing whatsoever about family.

He pushed the doors open. "Morning."

Every face turned.

Emmeline sat near the middle of the long table, dressed comfortably, her attention bouncing between Aveline and a plate she hadn’t touched. Aveline sat opposite with a tablet beside her plate — and her dark hair still loose around her shoulders instead of tied back.

Park clocked that immediately.

’Interesting. Very interesting, Perfect Crown.’

Evangeline sat further down with a cup of tea, quiet enough that he hadn’t heard her through the door. The morning light did unfair things to all that white hair, and she lifted her pale gaze to him with the same distant calm she brought to everything, including, presumably, funerals.

Even the butler standing at Aveline’s shoulder looked up from whatever he’d been showing her — a schedule, a household report, some rich-family problem requiring three separate screens before nine.

For a few seconds, everybody simply looked at him.

Park stopped beside an empty chair. "What?"

Nobody answered.

His smile widened as he pulled the chair out. "Did I get even more godly handsome overnight? Be honest; I do to bite and this is a... safe space."

"Yes," Emmeline said.

Silence.

Her eyes widened by roughly a centimetre.

Park turned toward her very slowly.

Aveline looked away and returned to the tablet with suspicious speed. The butler dropped his gaze with real professional discipline, though the twitch at one corner of his mouth suggested his training had not covered this family.

Park laughed and dropped into the seat beside her. "Thank you, Em. At least somebody in this house respects the truth."

"I answered too quickly."

"You answered from the heart."

"I was distracted."

"By my face? No offense, Em, you’re only human after all, who could blame you."

"Shut up."

"Good morning to you too."

He then greeted Aveline properly, nodded to the butler, then looked down the table. "Morning, Evangeline."

Evangeline considered him over the rim of her cup. "Good morning."

Small progress, he’d take it.

Breakfast started appearing in front of him almost immediately — fruit, toast, eggs, pastries, and several things he hadn’t asked for but accepted on the principle that one does not argue with excellent food arriving voluntarily.

Under the table, he reached sideways and found Emmeline’s hand.

She went rigid the moment his fingers closed around hers.

Park kept his eyes on his plate as though nothing at all had occurred, his thumb moving once across the back of her hand.

"So," he said, picking up a grape. "What do you do when you suspect somebody’s deliberately avoiding you?"

Emmeline went red almost instantly. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

He looked at her with enormous innocence. "You don’t?"

"No."

"You really don’t know?"

"No, Park."

"Huh." He ate the grape thoughtfully. "Because my favourite alarm clock failed to appear this morning when I needed her most. Very suspicious behaviour. Bordering on hostile."

She tried to pull her hand back under the table.

Park held on. Not tightly. Just enough to be reassure her no one was watching and she could hold him every fuckin’ way she wanted.

"You have a real alarm clock."

"It lacks personality."

"It works."

"It doesn’t climb into my bed and blow hot air into my ear like a small sleep demon."

"That happened once."

"And then it created expectations."

Aveline lowered the tablet. "Are the two of you having some kind of lovers’ quarrel?"

Park nearly inhaled the grape.

Emmeline turned to her sister in open horror. "What?"

"If you are," Aveline continued, perfectly calm, "take it outside. Some of us are attempting to eat."

Park recovered and laughed. "It’s more of a sibling custody dispute with emotional damages."

"Then settle it quietly."

"You could join us, dear sister. We could become one large unstable family argument. Very traditional."

"I would rather spend breakfast swallowing glass."

"That can be arranged," Evangeline said quietly.

Park looked down the table.

Evangeline took another sip of tea.

’Damn. The ice princess had jokes. Small ones, apparently sharpened into murder weapons, but jokes.’

Emmeline started laughing, and the butler lost another battle with his own face.

Aveline’s ears had gone faintly red — whether from the original accusation or from being dragged into Park’s nonsense this early was unclear.

Park noticed. Naturally.

He selected another grape. "I see."

Aveline’s eyes narrowed. "What do you see?"

"Nothing serious. For a second there you sounded jealous."

Her gaze sharpened instantly.

Park ate the grape with total innocence. "Good to know some things around here never change."

"Park."

He raised one hand. "Easy. I have an audition today. Be gentle with me, sister. I’m a delicate artist."

"You are many things. Delicate is not one of them."

"That sounded dangerously close to praise."

"It wasn’t."

"I’ll take it as one anyways."

Aveline drew a slow breath, visibly reviewing every decision that had brought her to this table this morning. "I am not wasting any more breath on you."

Park smiled warmly. "Love you too, sis."

"That is not what I said."

"I’ll have that as well."

She stared at him. Park reached for the toast, entirely comfortable underneath the look.

"Ugh," she muttered. "Annoying."

The laughter went around the table again, Emmeline leaning into his shoulder while trying to hide her grin, and even Evangeline’s mouth moved by a degree before it disappeared behind her cup.

Aveline looked at him a moment longer, then shook her head with a small tired sigh:

"He’s helpless, isn’t he."

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