Evil MC's NTR Harem - Chapter 391

Chapter 391: Chapter 391 Slogan
“What am I even doing here?” an exceptionally beautiful woman muttered under her breath. She was of Chinese heritage, standing a petite five feet tall, with a delicate frame and C-cup breasts.

While her figure might have been modest compared to what someone like Ross was accustomed to, it didn’t mean she was lacking—not in the slightest.

Her slender, alluring body turned the heads of nearly every man in the club.

She wasn’t here by choice, though. Her husband had pressured her into coming, and now she found herself in an uncomfortable situation.

“Hello there, beautiful. Can I offer you a drink?” A handsome man approached her with a charming smile.

She looked up at him and sighed inwardly. This was probably the twelfth man who had tried his luck with her tonight. Despite her discomfort, she maintained her politeness.

“I’m sorry. I’m waiting for someone. But thanks,” she lied, her voice calm but firm. She took another sip of her orange juice, nursing it slowly.

Her goal was simple: kill a couple more hours here and fulfill her husband’s request.

It wasn’t something she particularly wanted to do, but at least it was a small compromise she could make for him in this moment.

“Okay then, let’s just talk. I’m Mitch,” the man said, undeterred. He slid into the seat beside her and extended his hand in introduction, his confidence radiating as he smiled warmly.

The beautiful woman opened her mouth, ready to politely brush off the handsome man named Mitch, but before she could speak, someone else beat her to it.

“It seems your presence is no longer needed here, Mitch. Why don’t you kindly step aside and watch how a real man wins over a lovely lady like her?”

The voice came from the side, smooth yet commanding, dripping with confidence.

Both Mitch and the woman turned toward the source of the interruption, and their eyes widened in shock as they realized who had spoken.

“Ross Oakley,” Mitch muttered, the name slipping from his lips like a curse.

Ross’s name had become legendary, plastered across headlines worldwide after his stunning solo performance in the latest NBA championship.

He had singlehandedly led his team to victory, scoring an absurd number of points in multiple games. His fame—and infamy—preceded him.

Mitch clenched his fists, his initial instinct to retort with some trash talk.

But then, a flood of memories rushed through his mind—countless stories of others who had tried to challenge Ross, only to end up battered and humiliated.

Ross had a reputation for settling disputes with his fists, and it didn’t matter if it was broad daylight or in front of a crowd.

Those who dared to mouth off were left unrecognizable, their swollen faces a grim warning to anyone who might consider crossing him.

Sure, some of those people had filed lawsuits against Ross, but Mitch had no idea how those cases ended—and frankly, he didn’t care.

He valued his handsome face far too much to risk having it shattered like broken glass.

“Tsk,” Mitch spat in frustration, realizing he was outmatched. He turned on his heel, walking away with his tail metaphorically tucked between his legs.

His pride was wounded, but at least he still had his handsome face intact. He knew that this was his great capital in life and was wise enough to safeguard it at all costs.

Ross watched him go with a smirk, his presence as commanding as ever, before turning his attention back to the beautiful woman.

“I’m not interested,” the woman said firmly, shaking her head as she turned back to her drink. She already knew Ross Oakley’s reputation with women.

He liked them in droves, like some modern-day conqueror collecting beauties. She didn’t need him to say a word to know he was interested in her—she could feel it.

His gaze was crawling all over her body, inspecting her from head to toe, as if he was appraising her like a prize.

“You haven’t even heard me out yet,” Ross said, undeterred. A sly grin played on his lips.

“Wait until I make my pitch. Who knows? I might just change your mind and give you a wonderful surprise instead.” Without waiting for an invitation, he slid into the seat Mitch had vacated, his confidence unshaken as he settled beside her, openly admiring her.

Around the club, men watched Ross’s every move. His presence was magnetic, commanding attention whether people liked it or not. Some knew him personally—though most wished they didn’t.

“Jack, why did you stop?” a man asked his friend. They had been on their way to a night of reckless partying, ready to drink until they passed out.

But Jack Sharp had frozen in place, his face pale as if he’d just seen a ghost—or the Devil himself.

“Let’s leave. I don’t like this place. Let’s go somewhere else,” Jack said in a trembling voice. Without waiting for a response, he turned and hurried toward the exit, his steps unsteady but determined.

His friend looked confused.

“What’s wrong with you? We just got here!”

Jack didn’t answer. His heart pounded in his chest as a flood of painful memories overwhelmed him. He could still vividly recall what Ross had done to him. The shame, the agony—it was burned into his mind.

No matter how many times he tried to tell someone the truth about Ross, his lips would seize up, and an unbearable, excruciating pain would consume him, as if his body were being set ablaze from the inside.

Jack didn’t know how Ross did it, but he had no doubt it was deliberate. Ross had ensured his silence, punishing him with unspeakable suffering every time he so much as thought about revealing the truth.

Jack had already lost so much—his pride, his cock and balls, his entire manhood. He wasn’t about to lose his life.

“I’m not taking any chances,” Jack muttered under his breath as he pushed open the club’s door and vanished into the night. Whatever Ross was capable of, Jack wanted no part of it. Once was enough.

Back at the bar, Ross leaned slightly closer to the beautiful woman, his voice low and confident as he spoke. His words, though casual in tone, carried a weight that made her pause mid-sip.

She turned to him, her expression shifting from indifference to one of genuine shock.

“How…? How do you know all these things?” she asked, her voice trembling ever so slightly. For the first time that night, she looked at him intently, as though searching for answers in his eyes.

Ross’s grin widened, a mix of amusement and mischief playing on his face. “Oh, I know a whole lot of things, Penny,” he said smoothly, using her name as though they’d been lifelong acquaintances.

“I told you I’d surprise you, didn’t I?”