"Sorry, what?" Phei blinked, still processing the beauty in the power suit like she'd just announced she was here to repossess his soul.
Melissa shrugged one shoulder, the picture of weary inevitability. "At least one of the reasons she graced us with her presence is you. We'll get details after we finish this meeting — assuming the room hasn't frozen over by then."
Phei exhaled long and slow, accepting yet another bizarre footnote in his already surreal life.
The truth was, Phei's concept of a harem had never come from dog-eared manga or late-night anime binges and degenerate light novels had led him astray.
It had begun at home, rooted in pure desire and iron discipline.
His grandmother hadn't simply had a harem. She had run a full-time, twenty-four-seven operation.
Twenty-something women who literally shared her bed, answered to her like she was a CEO with benefits, loved her, feared her, or — more often — did both at once.
