My Secret Harem

The Rival

The flowers started on Monday.

Red roses. Two dozen. No card.

Then Tuesday: white lilies. Wednesday: orchids. Each delivery bigger, more expensive, more desperate.

By Friday, Luna's desk looked like a funeral parlor.

"Secret admirer?" Jenny asked, wide-eyed.

"Secret i***t," Luna muttered.

She knew exactly who it was. Victor Kane. The sleazy rival businessman she'd humiliated at the gala — made him confess his cheating in front of everyone with one look and one push. Instead of hating her, he'd become obsessed.

Men. Luna was learning that humiliation was an aphrodisiac for the wrong kind of man.

On Friday afternoon, her phone rang. Unknown number.

"Miss Luna." Victor's voice was smooth, oily. "I hope you're enjoying the flowers."

"Stop sending them."

"I can't." He laughed softly. "I think about you constantly. Your eyes. Your power over me at the gala — I've never felt anything like it." His voice dropped. "I want to feel it again."

Luna's skin crawled. "Victor, listen to me—"

"Dinner. Tonight. Just dinner. I have a proposition for you — a business one. Blackwood is nothing. I can give you—"

"No."

"Then I'll come to your office." His voice hardened. "Don't test me, Luna. I always get what I want."

The line went dead.

Luna stared at her phone, her heart pounding. Then she did what she always did when she was angry — she called the one man who made her feel safe.

"Adrian? We have a problem."

---

Victor Kane arrived at Blackwood Tower at 6 PM sharp, in a suit that cost more than Luna's car. He walked into the lobby like he owned it.

Luna was waiting for him. Alone. By her choice.

"Miss Luna." Victor smiled, his eyes crawling over her body. "You look delicious."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Victor." She turned toward the elevators. "Come on. Let's get this over with."

She took him to a private meeting room on the twelfth floor. Locked the door.

Victor's smile widened. "Alone? In a locked room? I like where this is going."

"Sit down." Luna's voice was ice.

Something in her tone made him obey. He sat — but his eyes never left her body, crawling over her breasts, her hips, her legs. Luna felt dirty just standing there.

She walked around the table slowly, her heels clicking on the floor. She stopped behind his chair and leaned down, her lips close to his ear. She could smell his cologne — too sweet, too much.

"You've been sending me flowers, Victor. Roses. Lilies. Orchids." Her voice was soft, dangerous. "Do you know what I did with them?"

"What?"

"I threw them in the trash." She smiled against his ear. "Every single one."

"I've been dreaming about you." Victor's voice was rough. "That night at the gala — what you did to me — I can't stop thinking about it. I want you, Luna. I'll give you anything. Money. Power. Just—"

"Just what?" She trailed one finger down his cheek. "Say it. Be bold. Tell me exactly what you want."

Victor shuddered. "I want you on your knees. I want to hear you beg. I want to—"

Luna's hand closed around his throat. Not hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to make her point.

"Wrong answer."

Her eyes flashed violet — bright, blazing, terrifying.

Victor froze. His face went white.

"Here's what's going to happen," Luna said softly, her lips brushing his ear. "You're going to stop sending flowers. You're going to stop calling. You're going to forget my phone number, my address, and the sound of my voice."

She pushed. Hard.

Victor's eyes glazed over. His body went limp in the chair.

"And Victor?" Luna tightened her grip on his throat just slightly. "If you ever come near me again — if you ever even think about me — you'll feel sick. Physically sick. Your stomach will turn. Your hands will shake. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"Good boy." She released his throat and stepped back. "Now get out."

Victor stood up like a sleepwalker and walked to the door. He didn't look back.

Luna watched him go, her heart hammering. Her head was already throbbing — Victor was weak-willed, but the push had been deep, a lasting command. That always cost more.

The door opened — Adrian stood there, his face dark.

"Is he gone?" Adrian asked.

"He's gone." Luna leaned against the table, suddenly exhausted. "He won't bother me again."

Adrian crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. "You didn't have to do that alone."

"Yes, I did." She looked up at him. "He wanted me, Adrian. Not like you want me. Like a thing. Like a toy. I needed him to understand I'm not his to want."

Adrian's eyes softened. "You're nobody's to want. Except—"

"Except yours?" Luna smiled teasingly. "Possessive much, Mr. Black?"

"With you?" He kissed her — deep, claiming. "Completely."

His hands slid down her back, cupping her ass through her skirt, pulling her hard against him. Luna gasped into his mouth — she could feel him, thick and ready, pressing against her.

"Adrian," she breathed. "We're in a meeting room—"

"I know." His voice was rough. "And I'm about to lock that door and bend you over this table."

Heat shot through Luna's body like lightning. God, when he talked like that—

"Do it," she whispered. "Lock the door."

Adrian moved fast. The lock clicked. Then he was back, his hands on her waist, turning her around, bending her over the conference table.

"Like this," he growled, flipping her skirt up. "God, Luna. No underwear? Were you planning this?"

"I was hoping," she admitted breathlessly.

He groaned and tore at his belt. A moment later, she felt him — hot, hard, pressing against her wet heat.

"Tell me you want it," he demanded, his hand tangling in her hair. "Say it."

"I want it," Luna gasped. "I want you inside me. Now. Please—"

He drove into her in one deep thrust, and Luna cried out. The angle was perfect — deep, devastating. Adrian set a brutal pace, pounding into her, the table rocking beneath them.

"So tight," he groaned. "So perfect. You like this? Being taken like this?"

"Yes—" Luna's fingers clawed at the table. "Harder, Adrian. Harder—"

He obeyed, his thrusts growing rougher, wilder. His hand slid around to her front, his fingers finding her most sensitive spot, rubbing hard.

"Come for me," he commanded. "Right now. Let everyone in this building hear you."

Luna shattered with a scream, her body convulsing around him. Adrian groaned and followed, his release flooding into her as he collapsed over her back.

They stayed like that for a moment, breathing hard, tangled together over the conference table.

Then Adrian helped her up gently, straightened her skirt with tender hands, and kissed her forehead.

"My queen," he murmured.

Luna smiled. But as they left the meeting room, her nose started to bleed again — a slow, warm trickle. She wiped it quickly, hoping Adrian wouldn't notice.

He noticed. His face darkened.

"How bad?" he asked quietly.

"Bad enough." She leaned against him, letting his strength hold her up. "Victor was weak, but I made the command deep. Lasting. That always costs more."

Adrian was silent for a moment. Then he scooped her up — actually lifted her off her feet — and carried her toward the elevator.

"Adrian! People are watching—"

"Let them." His voice was steel. "My woman is hurt. Everything else can wait."

Luna's heart melted. She buried her face in his neck and whispered, "Your woman, huh?"

"My woman," he confirmed, carrying her into the elevator like she weighed nothing at all.

The price. Always the price.

One month. She was running out of time.