Evil MC's NTR Harem

Miku’s trembling hands reached out, hesitating for a moment before gently brushing against his arm.

The warmth of his skin was enough to make her cry harder.

"Ace..." she whispered, voice breaking as tears began to fall freely.

She wanted to call his name again, to wake him, to tell him how much she missed him.

But the words wouldn’t come.

They were trapped in her throat, tangled with everything she had done to make this moment possible.

Ross.

The memory struck her like lightning—the heat of his body, the sound of his voice, the way he had taken her until she couldn’t even remember her own name.

She had screamed for him, begged for him, cried from both pain and pleasure.

And now, here she was, kneeling beside her husband, the echo of another man still lingering in her mind and body.

Guilt surged through her chest, sharp and cold. Her tears turned bitter.

How could she face Ace after what she had done? After what she had allowed?

Her hand clenched over her heart, but she forced herself to breathe.

She couldn’t afford to fall apart now—not when Ace needed her, not when she had finally gotten him back.

"I’m sorry..." she whispered hoarsely, her voice trembling. "I’m so sorry, Ace..."

The apology felt empty, swallowed by the quiet room.

But she wasn’t sure who it was truly for—her husband, or herself.

She wanted to hate Ross. She wanted to curse him, to scream at him for forcing her into that corner.

But deep down, beneath the anger and the guilt, was something she didn’t want to admit—relief.

Because if she hadn’t done what he wanted... Ace wouldn’t be here now.

And that truth terrified her.

Miku wiped her tears roughly, her expression hardening. She had made her choice.

It didn’t matter how it happened or what it cost her. Ross had kept his word, and Ace was alive.

For that, she would bear the guilt in silence.

She looked down at Ace’s sleeping face once more, her hand brushing the hair from his forehead.

"If I had to do it again," she murmured, her voice trembling but firm, "I wouldn’t hesitate."

The world outside groaned and burned, but inside that small room, Miku clung to her fragile miracle—her heart torn between love, shame, and a gratitude she could never voice aloud.

***

"Hmmm..."

Ace groaned softly as consciousness returned to him.

His vision blurred for a moment, then slowly cleared, revealing the faint golden glow of morning light seeping through the curtains.

The first thing he saw was his wife sitting at his bedside, her shoulders shaking, her face buried in her hands.

"Miku..." his voice came out weak, barely more than a whisper.

Her head shot up instantly.

For a split second, disbelief froze her features, and then tears flooded her eyes.

"Ace!" she cried out, her voice cracking as she lunged forward to wrap her arms around him.

He winced slightly at the sudden embrace, but his heart ached more than his body.

He could feel the tremor in her hands, the desperation in her grip, and he realized just how broken she must’ve been while he was gone.

"I’m here," he murmured, his voice rough. "I don’t know how... but I’m here now."

Miku sobbed against his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt.

"I thought I lost you. I thought you were gone forever..."

Ace’s hands gently brushed her hair, still soft and fragrant, though she looked thinner, more tired than he remembered.

The last thing he recalled was staring weakly out the window of their home.

His foot had throbbed unbearably, his vision darkened—and then, nothing. Silence. Cold.

Now, to open his eyes again and see her there—it felt like waking from a nightmare he couldn’t quite escape.

They stayed like that for a long while, clinging to each other as if the world around them might vanish if they let go.

Words were few, tears plenty.

Sometimes Miku spoke between sobs, sometimes Ace simply nodded, unable to process how he had come back, or what it cost.

After nearly an hour, Ace was finally strong enough to move.

He sat in a wheelchair that had been provided for him—by Ross, as Miku quietly mentioned.

The name stirred something unfamiliar in him. Gratitude, perhaps. Or unease.

When Ross finally stepped into view, Ace’s breath caught in his throat.

The man was striking—tall, broad-shouldered, and radiating an effortless confidence that filled the room.

His face, handsome to the point of intimidation, looked as though it had been carved to perfection.

For a moment, Ace could only stare, frozen in quiet astonishment.

He had always thought himself good-looking.

He’d taken pride in that—his appearance, his charm, the way Miku used to gaze at him with admiration.

But beside Ross, he suddenly felt small, dull, like a shadow standing next to the sun.

"Ross," Miku said softly, stepping to the side. "This is my husband."

Ross nodded politely, his expression calm but unreadable.

"Good to finally meet you, Ace. Awake. You’ve been through a lot."

Ace swallowed hard, his fingers tightening on the armrest of the wheelchair.

The man’s voice was deep, confident, commanding. Even his presence seemed to carry weight.

"Miku told me everything," Ace said, forcing a smile, though his throat felt tight.

"It was you who saved me. Thank you, Ross. We owe you more than we can ever repay."

Ross gave a faint smile—gentle, but distant.

"No debt," he said simply. "I only did what anyone should have."

But Ace could feel it—the unspoken tension, the invisible imbalance between them.

He didn’t know why, but something about Ross made his heart tighten.

Gratitude mixed with discomfort, admiration tainted with fear.

Miku stood between them, her hands clasped tightly together.

Her heart pounded as she looked from one man to the other, her expression calm but her eyes betraying guilt.

Ace didn’t notice it, not yet.

He only knew that his wife had cried for him, that she was safe, and that he was alive because of Ross.

But as Ross’s gaze lingered for a moment too long on Miku, something deep inside Ace stirred—a quiet unease, a whisper of insecurity that he couldn’t name.

Still, he smiled, his voice steady.

"Thank you again, Ross. Truly. I won’t forget this."

Ross nodded once more, his faint smirk never fading.

"You’re welcome, Ace. I’m just glad she didn’t have to face it all alone."

Miku froze for half a heartbeat, her breath catching. Ace didn’t notice—but Ross did.

The three of them gathered around the table for a hearty meal.

Plates were filled with grilled meat, fresh fruits, and warm bread — a feast so rich that Ace couldn’t help but stare in disbelief.

He hadn’t seen this much food in months. Not since the world had turned upside down.

"This is incredible," Ace said, his eyes darting between the roasted chicken and the vibrant salad bowl.

"Where did you even get all this? It’s like you’ve got your own Walmart hidden somewhere."

Ross chuckled, leaning back casually in his chair. "Something like that."

Ace looked at him curiously, waiting for an answer, and Ross finally smirked.

"I’ve always been a paranoid man," he said.

"Figured there was at least a one percent chance the world would end in my lifetime. So I stocked up—food, fuel, water, the works. You could say I prepared for the apocalypse before it ever started. I’m what people used to call a ’prepper.’"

Ace blinked, impressed. "That’s... smart. Really smart. Guess it paid off, huh?"

Ross gave a humble shrug, though there was quiet pride in his eyes. "I like to think so."

The conversation carried on pleasantly after that.

They talked, laughed, and shared stories as if the weight of the world had momentarily lifted.

For Ace, it felt like breathing fresh air for the first time in years.

For Miku, it was harder — she smiled, but every time her eyes met Ross’s, her heart gave a guilty tremor.

When the meal was done, Ross opened a bottle of wine to celebrate Ace’s recovery.

The three raised their glasses in a quiet toast.

"To survival," Ross said, his deep voice carrying a certain finality.

"To survival," Ace echoed, grinning widely before downing his drink.

The wine flowed freely after that. Ace, unaccustomed to drinking so much anymore, was soon laughing too loudly, slurring his words as the alcohol took hold.

Eventually, he staggered to the bed, collapsed face-first onto the mattress, and began to snore almost immediately.

The room fell quiet.

Ross watched him for a moment, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Then his eyes drifted toward Miku, who stood uncertainly near the table, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve.

"Come to my room later," Ross murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Miku froze. Her breath caught in her throat.

Ross didn’t repeat himself — he didn’t need to.

He simply turned away, leaving her standing there in silence as Ace snored peacefully behind her, unaware of everything that was about to unfold.