The Villainess's Harem: Make Them Beg

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The supporting male leads threw themselves at me to save the heroine. They expected a villain. They didn't expect me to enjoy it.

I didn't ask if it was a trap. I just asked: Who's next?

So, the timeline went a little something like this:

While Preston (the Alpha male lead) and Grace (the innocent heroine) were suffering through a classic Misunderstanding?, I was in a dimly lit penthouse, teaching a rebellious bad boy exactly where he belongedon his knees.

While Preston and Grace were tearing each other apart with jealousy, I was in a sterile lab, letting a high-functioning sociopath lose his absolute mind over the scent of my perfume.

And when the happy couple finally reconciled? I was being worshipped by a mysterious guardian who treated my pleasure like a sacred ritual.

Finally, the inevitable happened.

Preston stormed up to me, eyes blazing with self-righteous fury. "Can we annul the engagement? Now?"

I took a slow sip of my champagne. "No."

He snapped. Slap. A stack of high-definition photos hit the marble coffee table. They fanned out like a deck of cards, each one explicit, damning, and frankly, artistic. Me and Axel. Me and Damien. Me and Cassius.

"You have humiliated me for the last time, Blair!" Preston roared, his voice shaking the crystal chandelier. "Youve made me the laughingstock of New York! My stock is tanking because of your scandals! Why the hell won't you agree to break up?"

I looked at him, at his veins bulging with rage, and blinked innocently.

"Because," I said, my voice smooth as silk, "we were never engaged to begin with."

I pointed a manicured finger at his chest. "You're engaged to my sister, Victoria."

Chapter 1

Preston looked like hed been struck by lightning. His face drained of color, then flushed a violent, ugly red. His breath hitched in his throat, a strangled sound escaping his lips.

"You... you and I... no engagement?" he stammered, his arrogance faltering for the first time. "Then why? Why have you been controlling my life for three years?"

He took a step forward, aggression radiating off him in waves. "If a woman so much as looked at me, you acted like a rabid dog! You chased them off! You ruined my social life!"

I shrugged, leaning back into the velvet sofa, the picture of unbothered elegance. "Because I had to watch you for Victoria," I said, as if explaining quantum physics to a toddler. "Youre an investment, Preston. A liability."

"A liability?"

"Lack of impulse control is a fiscal liability. You are bad for the bottom line," I lectured, channeling my sisters boardroom energy. "Youre engaged to the Queen Bee of the Zhao Empire. You represent her brand. You are expected to be chaste, loyal, and boring. If I didn't gatekeep you, youd have tanked the merger by sleeping with an intern."

Prestons jaw hit the floor. He looked down at the tablecovered in evidence of my debaucheryand then back up at my face. "You have the audacity to lecture me about morals?"

The explosion was visceral. He slammed his hand onto the table, scattering the photos. "Look at this, Blair!" he screamed, pointing at a grainy shot of Axel kissing my boot. "These men... they barely have to undo a button and you accept them! You take them all! Every night a new partner! Every day a new scandal!"

He grabbed another photoDamien, tying my hands with his signature silk tie. "You're even using custom leather collars and leashes! You're treating the city's elite like pound dogs, and you dare to accuse me of being loose?"

I didn't flinch. I didn't even blink. "So?" I countered, my tone bored. "And?"

I stood up, smoothing the skirt of my dress, meeting his gaze head-on. "Life is short, Preston. We're here for a good time, not a long time. If they want to worship me for a few nights, who am I to deny them salvation?"

"Besides," I smirked, leaning in closer, enjoying the way his pupils dilated with confusion. "Why pick one flavor when the buffet is open? It's not addiction, darling. It's curiosity."

"Im not bad," I quoted, batting my eyelashes. "Im just drawn that way. What's the crime? Sentenced to fly economy for a week? Banned from Erewhon?"

Preston just stared at me. He looked like he was having a cardiac event. He hadn't encountered this level of shamelessness in his entire ivy-league life.

But then, his eyes narrowed. A cold, malicious realization sharpened his features. "Does Victoria know?" he asked softly.

My smile faltered. Bullseye.

He saw the micro-flinch. He saw the way my fingers tightened around the champagne flute.

"The engagement isn't broken yet," Preston sneered, regaining his footing. He was the gaslighter again, the controller. "Technically, I am still your future brother-in-law. I am family. And family corrects behavior."

He grabbed the stack of photos. "Where is she?" he demanded, his voice dripping with venom. "Im going to show her these. Right now. I wonder what the great Victoria Zhao will do when she sees her little sister dragging the family name through the mud? Shell cut your trust fund. Shell exile you."

Panic seized my chest. Not for mebut for Victoria. She was in the middle of a hostile takeover. She didn't need this distraction.

"Preston," I said, my voice rising an octave. "You walk in here demanding a breakup, calling yourself a victim... you have no right to see her!"

"I have every right!"

"You just said you wanted out! You're an outsider!" I argued, desperation creeping in. "You don't get to snitch!"

Preston didn't back down. He smiled, a shark smelling blood. "Fine. Im a heartbreaker. Im an outsider."

He held out his hand, palm up. Expectant. "Then pay me back the two million dollars you 'borrowed' last month for your little yacht party."

I froze. The air left the room.

I blinked once. Twice. My expression shifted from 'Villainess' to 'Good Sister' in record time. "Preston, darling," I beamed, my voice dripping with sugar. "We're practically family. Why are we talking about money? Its so... gauche."

Chapter 2

I didn't have a cent of liquidity. My assets were all locked in diversified trusts, offshore accounts, and Impressionist art I couldn't sell fast enough.

So, I did the only thing I could do. I gave him the bypass code to Victoria's private elevator.

Preston looked at the sequence of numbers like Id handed him the launch codes to a nuke. He finally fixed his suit jacket, satisfied. But before he left, he turned back, pointing a warning finger at me.

"These men are trash, Blair. Don't let me catch you sleeping around again. Or I will have security escort you to Victoria's office, and I'll let her liquidate you."

I lowered my lashes, forcing a slight tremor into my bottom lip. The picture of perfect submission. Oscar-worthy. "Yes, Preston. I understand."

The door clicked shut.

The second the lock engaged, I dropped the act. I turned around, eyes locking on the figure standing by the balcony door. Axel.

He had just finished walking my Doberman. Rain plastered the sheer white t-shirt to his chest, outlining every hard plane of muscle. Water dripped from his hair, pooling on the marble floor. He looked like a thunderstorm contained in human skin. Soaked, volatile, and radiating a heat that fogged the windows.

I didn't even speak. I walked over, grabbed him by the collar of his wet shirt, and shoved him onto the velvet sofa. No preamble. No acting.

Axel didn't expect the sudden aggression. Hed just run five miles with a dog that pulled like a freight train; he hadn't even had a sip of water. But when I straddled him, hands going for his belt, he didn't push me away.

Clothes hit the floor. The air in the room shifted from tension to something heavier, darker. Visceral lust.

Axel was known for being arrogant, a local "Bad Boy" with a temper that scared off most of high school. But right now? He was unraveling.

He gasped, his arms coming up to wrap tightly around my waist, holding on for dear life. The corners of his eyes turned a beautiful, feverish red. His skin was burning, hot enough to scald.

A bead of sweat rolled down his neck, tracing the sharp line of his collarbone before landing on his chest. I lowered my head and licked it off.

Axel choked on a breath, his entire body shuddering. He was completely defeated. Delicious.

Axel was at that perfect age. Twenty-one. The age where a boys passion is like a wildfire in a dry fielduncontainable, consuming, and terrifyingly easy to spread.

Chapter 3

I wasn't supposed to be into this type. Axel had a face that could launch a thousand shipssharp jawline, eyes that held a permanent challengebut his personality was pure sandpaper.

We were neighbors. Id grown up hearing him screaming matches with his father. He was the kind of trust-fund anarchist who would wreck a Ferrari just to prove a point, daring his father to cut him out of the trust fund while he stood there, smirking and unrepentant.

Too sharp. Too prickly. Eating him should have hurt. But even the wildest wolves have a weakness. Axels weakness was Grace.

Grace was the Song family's adopted daughter. Axels sister in name, but the owner of his heart in secret. For her, he stopped street racing. For her, he took out his signature tongue stud because she said it was "trashy." He folded his claws, hid his fangs, and tried to be the perfect knight.

But Grace didn't see him. Grace only had eyes for Preston. It was the classic tragedy. The Heroine and the Male Lead, a match made in heaven. The supporting male lead, destined for heartbreak.

Axel was in pain. But he was a "Good Guy" deep downhe didn't want Grace to be unhappy. He wanted her to get what she wanted. So, he came to me.

Everyone knew the Zhao and Xiao families were engaged. Axel knocked on my door three months ago with a proposition: Get Preston to break the engagement so Grace can have him. And the price? Himself.

I remembered that day. He had clearly prepared. He was wearing a suit that cost more than my car, holding a massive bouquet of red roses like a clich rom-com lead. He stood in my doorway, radiating that unique mix of boyish nervousness and arrogant swagger.

I looked him up and down. He looked at me with dark, intent eyes. It was a deal.

We ended up in bed within the hour. I expected him to be experienced. A player. I mean, look at him.

But life is full of surprises. The notorious Song family rebel... was a virgin. He was so sensitive it was almost unfair. It took the bare minimum of effort to make him fall apart, to make him tremble and gasp my name like a prayer.

In the afterglow, I toyed with the cold, surgical-steel barbell in the center of his tongue. He had pierced it again yesterday. For me.

"You took it out?" I asked, voice low.

"Grace said it was trashy," he mumbled, the metal ball clicking against his teeth. "But I know you like the friction."

The "Golden Retriever" energy. The fierce loyalty. The willingness to change his very skin for a girl who treated him like a brother. It was touching.

It was also... boring.

"You really are a waste of potential," I sighed, withdrawing my hand.

Axels eyes snapped open. He propped himself up on his elbows, chest heaving. "What?"

"I thought you were a wolf," I said, looking down at him with a lazy, mocking smile. "Turns out, you're just a domesticated pet. Soft. Boring."

His pride flared instantly. The anger returned to his eyes, sharp and icy. He hated being looked down upon.

But he held my gaze. And as the seconds ticked by, the anger didn't explode. It melted. It morphed into something elseshame, confusion, and a dark, heavy spike of arousal. His face flushed a deep crimson, all the way to the tips of his ears.

He didn't storm out. He didn't yell. Instead, Axelthe boy who fought his father tooth and nailshifted closer. He looked up at me through his lashes, hesitant, submissive. He leaned in, trying to kiss me.

I turned my head. "I don't like flowers," I said coldly. "And I don't want a boyfriend."

I grabbed a handful of his sweaty hair and forced his head down. "If you want to please me, Axel... you don't bring me roses. You come over every day at 6 PM. You hand-wash my silk lingerie using only The Laundress detergent."

I leaned back, watching the conflict war with the desire in his eyes. "And when you finish... you crawl to me. On your knees. Good boy."

Chapter 4

It was a fair trade.

I promised not to interfere with the tragic, angst-filled romance between Preston and Grace. In exchange, Axelthe city's most notorious bad boyhad to walk my Doberman every single day. And then, when he came back inside, he had to be the dog.

Youth is a dangerous drug. Once we started, we couldn't stop. We were insatiable. We literally broke a custom-made Italian bed frame last Tuesday.

But now, the party was over. Preston finally figured out that he wasn't engaged to me. He was engaged to Victoria.

He was undoubtedly on his way to demand an annulment from my sister, and knowing Victoria, she would agree just to get him out of her hair. The truth was coming out. No more games. No more "Bad Boy" acting like a Golden Retriever in my sheets.

Who was going to walk my dog now? Universe, if you're listening, queue up the next batch. I need a palette cleanser.

"What are you thinking about?"

The bathroom door creaked open. Steam billowed out, carrying the scent of sandalwood and expensive soap. Axel stepped out.

He was wearing nothing but a low-slung towel. His hair was wet, dark strands falling over his forehead. A single droplet of water traced a path down his neck, over the hard planes of his chest, and vanished into the white terry cloth at his V-line.

He walked over, his presence dominating the room. He pulled me onto his lap, his skin hot against mine.

"You're distracted," he murmured, his voice rough with lingering desire. He leaned in, seeking my lips. "What are we playing tomorrow? Collar or handcuffs?"

I turned my head. His lips grazed my cheek. "Tomorrow," I said, my voice flat, "we are done."

I stood up, stepping out of his reach to grab my silk robe. I kept my back to him as I tied the sash.

"Preston knows. Within a few days, the engagement will be officially dissolved. Hell go marry Grace, and everyone gets their happy ending." I turned around to face him. "Transaction complete. You don't need to come here anymore."

Axel froze. The playful glint in his eyes vanished.

I expected relief. I expected him to cheer, to run off into the sunset with his beloved Grace now that the path was clear. Instead, he looked like Id just kicked him.

"If I don't come..." he stammered, the arrogance gone. "Who... whos going to walk your dog?"

I blinked. Really? Thats his concern?

"I'll have the handler take the dog to his country estate in the Hamptons tomorrow," I waved him off, already mentally packing for a vacation.

The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.

"A friend?" Axel stood up, the towel perilously loose. His voice rose, vibrating with sudden, irrational fury. "I know your friends, Blair. Theyre lazy socialites who don't get out of bed before noon. They won't walk him!"

He closed the distance between us in two strides. His hand clamped around my wristnot painful, but firm. Possessive. "Tell me the truth," he hissed, his jaw tight. "Do you have another dog outside?"

He wasn't talking about the Doberman.

"Axel, you're being ridiculous," I tried to pull away, but he held on.

"You can't do this to me," he said, his eyes wild. "You can't just use me and toss me aside! If you dump me now," Axel threatened, his voice shaking, "Im going to spiral. Publicly."

"I already booked the appointment. The stencil of your name is ready. I'm livestreaming the tattoo session at midnight, and BlairZhaoIsMine is already trending on X. Ill propose to you on the Met Gala red carpet in front of every camera in New York. I will make sure the entire world knows you played me without ever giving me a label!"

Chapter 5