Evil MC's NTR Harem

Chapter 595 Yoga

Ashley woke up feeling… amazing.

It was as if she had just experienced the most restful sleep of her entire life—no nightmares, no stress, no guilt weighing on her chest.

Just peace. Warmth.

Her body still tingled faintly, as if the memories of the previous night refused to leave her skin.

Her eyes fluttered open, and the first thing she saw was him—Ross.

Or rather, Ross wearing Cyrilʼs face. But she didnʼt know that of course.

He was seated at the edge of the bed, placing a steaming plate of food on the bedside table.

Eggs, toast, meat, a bit of fruit—nothing fancy, but the kind of meal made with care.

The smell alone made her stomach growl in betrayal.

It was only then, as she shifted slightly under the covers, that Ashley realized she was back in her own bed.

She blinked, disoriented.

”Whereʼs Cyril?” she asked softly. Her voice was hoarse from sleep and a little uncertainty.

Regardless of everything that had happened—everything he had done—Cyril was still her husband.

Ross didnʼt look at her immediately. Instead, he adjusted the tray and straightened a napkin before responding.

”I donʼt know,” he said casually. ”Heʼs gone. Probably holed up in some hotel somewhere in the city. He donʼt have the face to talk to you now, Ashley.”

Ashley fell silent.

The silence stretched between them like a taut string, one neither dared pluck too hard. She didnʼt know where to begin, what to say.

Her emotions were too much—twisting around inside her, conflicting and confusing.

Part of her was furious. Furious at being played. Furious at being fooled, seduced, manipulated.

And yet…

Another part—the quiet part, the one buried deep—felt something else.

Something warmer.

If she was honest, the time she spent with Ross… it had been one of the most precious, freeing, happy moments sheʼd ever had. It made her feel alive. Wanted. Seen.

She turned to say something, anything—but Ross beat her to it.

”Eat first. Talk later,” he said gently, his voice low but firm. ”Remember—youʼre not just eating for yourself anymore. You already have our baby inside you.”

Her breath caught at that.

Ross didnʼt wait for her to respond. He picked up the tray and scooped a spoonful of scrambled eggs, holding it out for her like she was delicate, like she might break.

Ashley stared at him, wide-eyed, torn between exasperation and something dangerously close to affection.

”Iʼm not a baby,” she muttered, trying to sound annoyed as she pushed his hand away. ”I can feed myself.”

Ross only chuckled under his breath and let her take the tray.

She sat up slowly, adjusting the blanket around her chest. Even as she started to eat in silence, her thoughts refused to quiet down.

This—he—wasnʼt supposed to make her feel this way. He had been part of the trick, part of the game that made her question everything.

And yet his gestures…

The tenderness in his voice, the way he looked at her like she was the most important person in the world—it felt real. Too real.

Ashley hated herself a little for enjoying it. For finding comfort in his presence.

For feeling the subtle swell of joy at knowing she wasnʼt alone in this—not really.

She chewed quietly, her eyes drifting toward Ross, who now leaned against the wall, watching her—not with smugness, not with arrogance, but with a strange softness that made her heart ache.

And though no words were spoken, a thousand unspoken questions hovered in the air between them.

”Perfect. Thatʼs a good beautiful woman right there,” Ross praised with a smirk as Ashley leaned back in the bed, having polished off every last bite of the meal.

His eyes sparkled with satisfaction, watching her like an artist admiring his finished masterpiece.

He hadnʼt expected anything less—after all, he was the one who made it.

And Ross didnʼt cook like an ordinary man.

His cooking skills had reached a level where even immortals, with their refined palates and access to heavenly delicacies, would kneel just for a single taste.

It wasnʼt arrogance—it was truth backed by experience. His dishes didnʼt just satisfy hunger; they enchanted the senses, stirred the heart, and, most importantly, softened even the most stubborn of women.

Ross knew that conquering a womanʼs heart wasnʼt always about wealth or words.

Sometimes, it was about flavor—about making her feel something with every bite.

His kitchen prowess had been one of his most powerful tools, and it had never failed him. Tonight, once again, it had done its magic.

”Mmm…” Ashley licked the corner of her lips slowly, still trying to process what sheʼd just eaten.

Her eyes remained slightly dazed, as though sheʼd been momentarily transported to another world.

”What… was that?”

She blinked, placing a hand over her stomach. It was almost as if the food hadnʼt just filled her—it had awakened something in her.

”I donʼt even know what I just ate,” she whispered. ”But it was… it was insane. Like, everything Iʼve ever had before this was just cheap garbage compared to what you just made. I swear, my taste buds were crying.”

Ross chuckled as he wiped down the counter, amused by her stunned reaction. ”Told you I could cook. You didnʼt believe me.”

Ashley narrowed her eyes slightly, still skeptical. ”Okay, but seriously—did you put something in it? A love potion, maybe?” Her tone was teasing, but there was a flicker of suspicion in her gaze.

”A love potion?” Ross laughed, a deep, rich sound that filled the room.

He turned to her, his expression shifting into something far more confident—cocky, even.

”Do I really look like the kind of guy who needs to resort to such low-class tricks?” He tossed the cloth aside and walked over to her, leaning in close. ”And besides…”

He gave her a slow, almost smug grin.

”Why would I need a love potion when Iʼve already put a baby inside you, Ashley?”

Her breath caught. Just like that, the playful atmosphere shifted.

Ashleyʼs eyes widened, and her hand unconsciously moved to her flat belly, resting there as if trying to confirm the truth in his words.

She didnʼt speak. Couldnʼt. The weight of his sentence hung heavy in the air.

A baby.

She was quiet for a moment, the realization sinking in deeper with each passing second. The warmth of the food in her stomach now felt different—more personal, more symbolic.

It wasnʼt just a meal anymore. It was a beginning.

Ross watched her with quiet satisfaction. He didnʼt gloat further. He didnʼt need to. Her silence was enough.

Ashley finally looked up at him, eyes soft with emotion and a thousand thoughts behind them.

”…Youʼre impossible,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Ross simply smiled. ”And youʼre glowing already, honey.”

A brief silence settled between them, thick with unspoken questions, before Ashley finally cut to the heart of it.

”Who are you really?” she asked, her voice low but steady.

Ross didnʼt miss a beat. ”Iʼm a secret operative for the government. Spy work, black ops, the kind of stuff that never makes it to the news,” he said coolly.

”Donʼt ask who ʼtheyʼ are—I wouldnʼt tell you even if you did. Thatʼs why no one knows your husband Cyril has a brother. A twin, at that. My records? Wiped clean.”

It was an easy, convenient cover—one that gave him room to maneuver and just enough mystery to be believable.

Ashley stared at him, trying to process the weight of it. It sounded like something out of a movie, but something about the calm in his voice made her believe it—at least a little.

”What… what do you want to do now?” she asked quietly. ”Are you leaving? Me and our baby?”

Sheʼd seen movies about secret agents. Mysterious men living double lives, vanishing for months, risking everything.

She didnʼt know how accurate those were—but the thought of being left behind, raising a child alone, filled her with anxiety.

”Simple,” Ross said, flashing a half-smile. ”Iʼll take care of you and our baby, of course. But with the nature of my job, I might disappear for long stretches. Itʼs not ideal—but Iʼll always come back.”

To him, it was a manageable situation. A little side story that could even add some thrill to his life.

Ashley took a long, slow breath. Her thoughts spun in a whirlwind—too many changes, too fast. Her heart was conflicted. Ross was offering a future, but it was one laced with uncertainty.

”Let me think first,” she said softly. Her voice trembled just enough to reveal how overwhelmed she felt.

Ross gave a small nod, respectful of her space. He knew better than to push.

After a long pause, Ashley finally looked up. Her eyes were tired but resolute.

”I want to talk to my husband first,” she said.

”Of course,” Ross replied gently. ”Iʼll even help you set it up.”

Ashleyʼs lips curved into a faint smile, the first in a while. ”Thank you, Lyric.”

She hoped, deep down, that somehow she could return to a peaceful life—even if peace now felt more complicated than ever before.