Evil MC's NTR Harem - Chapter 467

Chapter 467: Chapter 467 Rabbit
“Look! Is that who I think it is?”

“Yes! That’s the billionaire Ross Oakley!”

“The goat of basketball!”

“Why is he at our university?”

“Beats me, but I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

Whispers spread like wildfire as students turned their heads, eyes widening in recognition.

Ross Oakley, the billionaire, the internet sensation, the man whose every move dominated headlines—was walking through their campus as if he belonged there.

No entourage, no bodyguards. Just him. Yet even alone, he commanded attention.

Dressed in nothing more than a fitted shirt and well-worn jeans, Ross still managed to outshine everyone around him.

It wasn’t the clothes that made him stand out but the way he wore them—the effortless confidence, the undeniable presence.

Every step he took was measured, deliberate, exuding an aura of control that sent an unspoken message: he was a man to be reckoned with.

He moved like a lion among sheep, and everyone could feel it. Tall, broad-shouldered, and built like a warrior, Ross possessed a physique that radiated raw power.

The sheer force of his presence made those nearby instinctively shrink back, parting to give him space without even realizing they were doing it.

It wasn’t just his looks or his wealth—it was something deeper, something primal. A man like Ross didn’t need to announce his dominance; it was felt, like the weight of an approaching storm.

Some students stared in awe, others with envy. A few brave ones considered approaching him, only to falter under his piercing gaze.

He wasn’t just rich, wasn’t just famous—he was something more. Something superior. And whether they liked it or not, they all felt it.

Ross didn’t have to walk far. He cut through the parking lot, his confident strides drawing attention even before he reached the school lobby.

Whispers followed in his wake, but he ignored them, his focus locked onto one person.

There she was—his target—seated near the entrance, waiting for someone.

Unfortunately for her, that someone had run into an unexpected delay, giving Ross the perfect opportunity for an introduction. He had no intention of wasting it.

Stopping directly in front of her, he didn’t bother with pleasantries.

Instead, he spoke with the same directness that had made him a billionaire before most people even figured out what to do with their lives.

“I like you,” Ross said.

The young woman turned her head, caught off guard by both the words and the man who had spoken them.

For a split second, surprise flickered across her face, but she quickly masked it with composure.

She was absolutely stunning—eighteen years old, with long, straight, light-brown hair that cascaded past her shoulders in soft, natural waves.

Her skin was smooth and light-toned, glowing under the school’s artificial lighting.

Delicate yet striking, her features held a youthful charm that could steal the breath of any man who laid eyes on her.

Her outfit was effortlessly stylish. A cropped, light pinkish-peach t-shirt clung to her frame, the phrase YOLO printed in a bold, stylized purple font across the front.

The relaxed fit gave her an air of casual confidence, exposing just enough of her toned midriff to be enticing without trying.

Paired with it were high-waisted, light-wash denim shorts, frayed at the hem in a trendy style.

They accentuated her long, slender legs, which she stretched out with the ease of someone who knew exactly how good she looked.

There was no denying it—she was eye candy, the kind of girl who could make heads turn without even trying.

And right now, every pair of eyes in the lobby was glued to them, eager to see what would happen next.

For a moment, she simply studied him. Ross Oakley. Billionaire. Internet sensation. The man whose name dominated headlines.

Of course, she recognized him. Everyone did. His face was plastered everywhere—news articles, social media, magazine covers. Only someone living in total isolation wouldn’t know who he was.

But instead of fawning over him like most girls would, she merely offered a polite, fleeting smile.

“Thank you,” she said lightly. Then, as if he were nothing more than a passing stranger, she turned her gaze straight ahead, feigning indifference.

Ross arched a brow. Oh? So she was going to play it that way.

He could see it—the way her fingers curled slightly on her lap, the way her shoulders tensed just enough to betray that she wasn’t as unaffected as she wanted to appear.

She was aware of him, more than aware, and yet she was pretending otherwise.

Amused, Ross smirked.

He wasn’t the type to be ignored.

“If you think ignoring me will make me go away, you’re making a big mistake. It only makes me want you more,” Ross said smoothly as he slid onto the bench beside her, completely at ease.

The young woman didn’t react at first. No sharp intake of breath, no widening of her eyes—just an almost imperceptible tightening of her jaw.

She had likely dealt with men like him before—arrogant, confident, used to getting whatever they wanted. But Ross Oakley wasn’t just any man.

With a sigh of feigned indifference, she reached for her handbag.

“Not if I do this. Watch me,” she said lightly, rising to her feet in one graceful motion.

It was a simple act—getting up, walking away—but there was an elegance in the way she moved, a quiet defiance in her posture.

She had no intention of entertaining Ross any longer. She wasn’t flustered, wasn’t nervous. If anything, she seemed utterly unimpressed.

But she had barely straightened up when Ross spoke again, his voice calm yet carrying a weight that made the air between them feel heavier.

“If you do that, you might not hear from or see your boyfriend again. So think very, very carefully.”

He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t change his tone. And yet, his words landed like a thunderclap.

The effect was immediate.

Her delicate fingers, still curled around the strap of her handbag, froze in place. Her posture stiffened just enough to betray her momentary shock.

Then, slowly, she turned her head toward him, her expression shifting—shock, then anger, a flicker of uncertainty, before she finally forced herself to regain control.