[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-evil-mc-s-ntr-harem":3,"chapter-evil-mc-s-ntr-harem-evil-mc-s-ntr-harem-chapter-692":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","Evil MC's NTR Harem",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},1831991,2438,"Chapter 692 Triangle","evil-mc-s-ntr-harem-chapter-692",692,"\u003Cp>\"Don’t play dumb with me, Jane. You didn’t land a senator by accident. I know you know exactly what I’m talking about,\" Ross said, his voice thick with implication, laced with a smug arrogance that made Jane’s skin crawl.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"...\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It took Jane three steadying breaths to process the venom behind his words.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She wasn’t slow—far from it. In fact, her instincts were usually razor-sharp.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the sheer audacity of what Ross was suggesting caught her off guard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her fingers tightened around her phone. \"Are you insinuating that you’ll help free my husband... if I sleep with you?\" she said, her voice trembling with fury and disbelief. \"You’re really a fucking lowlife, Ross. Go to hell!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She hung up, slamming the phone down on the kitchen counter so hard that it bounced slightly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her chest was heaving now, not from fear, but from raw indignation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The guts of that man...\" she muttered through clenched teeth, pacing the room.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I should sue his ass off. Sexual coercion, blackmail—he’s asking for a goddamn lawsuit!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jane’s pulse pounded in her ears.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She wrapped her arms around herself, not because she was cold, but to stop herself from shaking.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ross’s words had been a slap to the face, an insult to everything she had fought for.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yes, she was beautiful. Striking, even. Her curves turned heads.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her smile could melt the hardest of men. And yes—she knew it. She had always known it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She wasn’t born into power or privilege.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She had clawed her way out of poverty with her wit, her charm, and her unshakable will.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She played the game the way it was meant to be played, using every asset she had.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But never—not once—had she compromised her dignity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She had slept with one man in her life: her husband.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It hadn’t been about love at first. It was about survival, about security, about making sure she would never be that poor, helpless girl again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Over time, affection had bloomed. She had grown to respect him, even admire him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He gave her a life she could only dream of as a child.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And now, Ross wanted to reduce it all to a filthy transaction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She walked over to the mirror in the hallway and stared at her reflection.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her eyes, still fierce. Her lips, tight with anger. She looked like a woman ready to fight back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"No,\" she said aloud, her voice calmer now, but steel beneath the surface.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You don’t get to use me like that, Ross. I’m not some trophy you can buy with power.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her phone buzzed again—another message from Ross, no doubt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She didn’t even look at it. Instead, she picked it up, calmly deleted the number, and then set the phone aside.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If he wanted a game, she’d show him what it was like to play against someone who had everything to lose—and nothing left to give.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jane held out longer than most people thought she could.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For an entire month, she fought tooth and nail to survive the aftermath of the scandal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She cut expenses, sold jewelry, even pawned her designer bags—anything to scrape together enough to buy time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But time wasn’t on her side.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The silence from her so-called social circle was louder than any condemnation. Her name—once spoken with admiration—was now a punchline in political satire shows.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She reached out for help, swallowing her pride to call old friends and even one time acquaintances she hadn’t spoken to in years.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She begged—something she never imagined herself doing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But all she heard was the same rehearsed line:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’m sorry, Jane. I really am. But it’s too risky.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They were afraid. Afraid of being associated with a fallen senator’s wife.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Afraid of subpoenas, frozen accounts, and guilt by association.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No one wanted her burden.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was when the vultures started circling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wealthy men she’d once scoffed at suddenly reappeared, cloaked in concern and false empathy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They invited her to \"private dinners\" or offered \"help\" with a knowing smirk.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their eyes didn’t see her pain—only her body.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her beauty had always drawn attention, but now it attracted something worse: opportunists. Predators.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They offered money. Not loans. Deals. One man even slid a black card across the table, whispering that it would be hers—if she became his.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She had slapped him. Walked out in tears. But the thought lingered, cruel and persistent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She didn’t just need money. That wouldn’t fix anything.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She needed power. She needed her husband free. She needed her life back—the life she had built through grit and beauty and calculated charm. The power couple image.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The respect. The access to circles only the elite could enter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She needed Ross.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As much as she loathed him, he was the only man who had both the influence and lack of morality to make things move behind the scenes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had connections in many places. He had leverage. And worst of all, he knew it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I shouldn’t have deleted his number,\" she muttered for the tenth time that week.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She sat curled up on the couch, wearing an old oversized sweatshirt, hair messy, makeup smudged from yesterday’s tears.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She stared at the blank screen of her phone like it might magically display his name.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But it never did.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Day after day passed with no message, no call, no email. The silence felt cruel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Intentional. As if Ross was punishing her for rejecting him the first time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Or worse—testing how far she’d fall before she came crawling back on her own.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another week passed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jane found herself standing in front of the mirror again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her reflection stared back—tired, thinner, but still undeniably beautiful.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She was a woman who had spent years learning how to use her looks, how to disarm, how to win.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But right now, she looked like a queen in exile. And no one came to save queens who had been dethroned.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The thought came unbidden, and it disgusted her: Maybe someone else could help. Not Ross... someone else. Someone who wouldn’t make me beg.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her stomach churned.\u003C\u002Fp>",1002,"2026-06-09T06:18:58.540Z",1,"novelbin.me","7dd746f1d1a563d1bf91a4afaa241d12fd64fdd831ed7e3ec28f5b073d0af54d","evil-mc-s-ntr-harem-chapter-693","evil-mc-s-ntr-harem-chapter-691",1212,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fevil-mc-s-ntr-harem-cover.jpg"]