Evil MC's NTR Harem

"Stand up."

The cold, biting command yanked Julian out of his daze.

His body ached, and his mind felt like it was teetering on the edge of collapse.

He'd spent the night on the hard floor, sleepless and haunted by the memories of April—the woman he once believed loved him—surrendering herself completely to Ross.

Every vivid detail replayed mercilessly in his head.

April's moans, her shameless pleas, the way she begged Ross to take her harder, faster—it was a nightmare he couldn't escape.

She hadn't just given in; she'd craved it. That realization cut deeper than any physical wound.

"I said, stand up!"

Bang!

A sharp kick landed squarely on Julian's side, jolting him back to reality. Brandon loomed over him, his face twisted with disdain.

The impact sent a shockwave of pain through Julian's body, leaving him gasping for air. It felt like his back might snap in two from the sheer force.

"Stop—please!" Julian croaked, curling into himself as he shielded his head with trembling hands. "I'll get up. Just… give me a second."

Brandon sneered but didn't strike again.

Groaning, Julian forced himself to his feet, every movement a reminder of his bruised and battered state.

His legs wobbled beneath him, but he stood, head bowed like a man awaiting judgment.

It was only then, as he glanced around, that he realized something was off. This wasn't the same room he'd been in last night.

The dim lighting, the unfamiliar furniture—it was all different. Panic bubbled up in his chest as his thoughts immediately went to April.

Where is she? What happened to her?

The questions burned on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't dare voice them.

Brandon's eyes, cold and unyielding, locked onto his, daring him to speak. Before Julian could gather the courage, Brandon broke the silence.

"Walk."

The single word carried an unspoken threat, one Julian wasn't brave enough to test. Gritting his teeth, he obeyed.

Each step was agony, but he forced himself forward, following Brandon as they moved through unfamiliar hallways.

The oppressive silence stretched between them, broken only by the sound of their footsteps.

The air was heavy, suffocating, and Julian's mind raced with possibilities.

Were they taking him somewhere to finish him off? To humiliate him further? And what about April? Was she still with Ross? Was she even alive?

The questions gnawed at him, but the pain in his body and the looming presence of Brandon kept him silent.

After what felt like an eternity, they emerged into the cold morning air.

The city lay ahead in the distance, a stark reminder of the life Julian had once known—a life that now felt impossibly far away.

They took Julian's car. Brandon drove, his face concealed behind the same menacing demon mask, while Julian sat in silence in the passenger seat.

The tension was suffocating, the hum of the engine the only sound between them.

Julian kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead, too afraid to look at Brandon or ask any questions.

An hour later, the car rolled to a stop in front of the university.

Brandon stepped out of the driver's seat, moving with deliberate ease, as if he had all the time in the world.

Without a word, he reached into his pocket and tossed something into Julian's lap.

Julian flinched, then looked down to see his phone.

His stomach churned when he unlocked it and saw what Brandon had loaded onto the screen—videos and photos from the previous night.

The images were horrifyingly clear: April writhing under Ross, her cries of ecstasy filling the room, while Julian was in the corner, caught in the ultimate humiliation.

There was even a clip of him—his shame laid bare—pleasuring himself as he watched.

His blood ran cold.

"Speak a word about last night," Brandon said, his voice low and sharp, "and I'll release everything. Everyone will see you jacking off to your girlfriend getting fucked. You're nothing but a pathetic little worm."

Julian's head snapped up, his eyes wide with panic, but Brandon wasn't finished. He stepped closer, his shadow looming over the car.

"And after that?" Brandon added, his voice even darker now, "I'll come to your house and personally cut your family's heads off in front of you. Every. Single. One."

It was the longest string of words Brandon had spoken so far, and each one landed like a punch to Julian's gut.

His mouth went dry, and his heart pounded in his chest as Brandon turned and walked away without waiting for a response.

Julian sat frozen, his grip on the phone tightening. He wanted to scream, to cry, to fight back somehow—but he knew he couldn't. Not against them. Not after this.

He glanced out the window, watching Brandon's retreating figure disappear into the crowd of students. For the first time in his life, Julian felt truly powerless.

Julian didn't see his girlfriend, April, that day. He had expected her parents to grow concerned and contact him, but no call ever came.

It only deepened his unease, making him suspect that Ross had provided some convincing alibi to keep them in the dark.

As for his own family, Julian kept things simple. He told them he'd gone to a party the previous night and had gotten drunk.

His apology for worrying them seemed to suffice, and they didn't press him further.

But the weight of uncertainty gnawed at him. Alone in his room, he whispered, "Where is she?" The question hung in the air, unanswered.

A terrible thought crept into his mind—what if April was dead? Yet, he clung to hope, praying desperately for her safety.

His prayers were answered the next day.

When he saw April again, relief and dread collided within him.

She was alive, still as beautiful as ever, her smile and composure giving nothing away to the world.

But Julian knew better. He alone understood the horrors she had endured at Ross's hands.

Her outward perfection was a mask, hiding the scars he couldn't erase.

"Julian!" April cried the moment she saw him, her voice trembling with raw emotion.

She threw herself into his arms, clutching him desperately as sobs wracked her body.

Julian held her tightly, his heart breaking at the sound of her tears.

"It's okay," he murmured, his voice soft and reassuring. "It's not your fault. None of this is your fault. Nobody wanted this to happen."

He gently stroked her hair, trying to offer her the comfort she so desperately needed. Julian forced himself to be strong, for her sake and his own.

He wanted to believe they could heal together, that they could rebuild what had been shattered.

But alas, fate has a bad twist in store for Julian.

Ross had already marked April as his possession, and resisting him was like trying to grasp the sun with bare hands—impossible and destined to burn.

No one could take what belonged to Ross, let alone steal it away.

April was trapped, whether she realized it or not, and Julian could do nothing but hold her close, clinging to the fragile hope that somehow, they could defy the odds.

***

That night...

"Do you really have to go?" Julian asked softly once April's classes were over.

His voice was tinged with desperation, his eyes searching hers for any sign of hope.

April hesitated, guilt flashing across her face. "I have to," she said with a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping. "I can't refuse him."

Her voice wavered as she spoke, the weight of her words dragging her down.

Ross had her in his grasp, wielding the damning sex videos like a weapon. She hated the power he held over her, but there was no escaping it.

Ding!

The sound of a notification cut through the tense silence. April glanced at her phone and froze.

Her eyes widened in panic, and without another word, she turned and bolted, leaving Julian standing there in stunned silence.

He watched her retreating figure, the ache in his chest growing unbearable.

She hadn't even offered an excuse, and yet, Julian understood. The message was from Ross.

The realization hit him like a knife to the heart.

He stood there, rooted to the spot, letting the pain seep into every corner of his being.

"Fuck you, Ross!" Julian screamed, his voice trembling with the sting of bitter defeat.

His chest heaved, and it felt as though his heart might explode from the sheer force of his rage.