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Evil MC's NTR Harem

Chapter 685 Access · Oct 12, 2026

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Chapter List (1266)

Page number / 26

651 Chapter 651 Clarity 2026-10-12
652 Chapter 652 Hope 2026-10-12
653 Chapter 653 Opinion 2026-10-12
654 Chapter 654 Zone 2026-10-12
655 Chapter 655 Lion 2026-10-12
656 Chapter 656 Spotlight 2026-10-12
657 Chapter 657 Cute 2026-10-12
658 Chapter 658 Duke 2026-10-12
659 Chapter 659 Mirror 2026-10-12
660 Chapter 660 Intern 2026-10-12
661 Chapter 661 Twin 2026-10-12
662 Chapter 662 Guess 2026-10-12
663 Chapter 663 Unicorn 2026-10-12
664 Chapter 664 Ancestor 2026-10-12
665 Chapter 665 Glutton 2026-10-12
666 Chapter 666 Clock 2026-10-12
667 Chapter 667 Assessment 2026-10-12
668 Chapter 668 Engineer 2026-10-12
669 Chapter 669 Claws 2026-10-12
670 Chapter 670 Choice 2026-10-12
671 Chapter 671 Potential 2026-10-12
672 Chapter 672 Poem 2026-10-12
673 Chapter 673 Savage 2026-10-12
674 Chapter 674 Switch 2026-10-12
675 Chapter 675 Digital 2026-10-12
676 Chapter 676 Spirit 2026-10-12
677 Chapter 677 Favourite 2026-10-12
678 Chapter 678 Beverage 2026-10-12
679 Chapter 679 Alchemist 2026-10-12
680 Chapter 680 Halfway 2026-10-12
681 Chapter 681 Light 2026-10-12
682 Chapter 682 Brownies 2026-10-12
683 Chapter 683 Ocean 2026-10-12
684 Chapter 684 Analogy 2026-10-12
685 Chapter 685 Access 2026-10-12
686 Chapter 686 Material 2026-10-12
687 Chapter 687 Status 2026-10-12
688 Chapter 688 Apex 2026-10-12
689 Chapter 689 Entity 2026-10-12
690 Chapter 690 Beard 2026-10-12
691 Chapter 691 Vortex 2026-10-12
692 Chapter 692 Triangle 2026-10-12
693 Chapter 693 Names 2026-10-12
694 Chapter 694 Dragon 2026-10-12
695 Chapter 695 Movie 2026-10-12
696 Chapter 696 Meme 2026-10-12
697 Chapter 697 Finals 2026-10-12
698 Chapter 698 Canon 2026-10-12
699 Chapter 699 Buffer 2026-10-12
700 Chapter 700 Sticker 2026-10-12

Chapter 685 Access

“It’s time.”

The words were simple, but they carried weight.

The kind of weight only shared understanding and years of quiet patience could give.

“I suppose it is,” one of the women replied, her voice soft yet steady.

“Ross has more than proven himself. Not just as a husband, but as a father too.”

“Agreed,” another nodded. “Alistair, his eldest, is already ten. And Ross treats him and all the other children the same—no favoritism, no distance. Just love. Steady, unshakable love.”

“He’s a good man,” the third said, almost in a whisper, as if voicing that truth aloud might make it more real, more sacred.

They were seated in a sunlit garden room, the windows thrown open to let in the crisp morning breeze.

Cups of tea sat forgotten on the table between them, steam curling lazily upward.

This wasn’t just a casual gathering.

It was a meeting of hearts, a moment of unity forged in silence and understanding.

Ross wasn’t with them—he didn’t know about this meeting, and that was the point.

This was for them. For the women who shared his life, his bed, his children.

For the women who had waited.

They had each walked their own path to get here.

Some had come into Ross’s life early, others later. Some through chance, others by fate.

But all of them had stayed—willingly, fiercely, because they saw the man beneath the legend.

The man who worked tirelessly to protect them, to provide for them, to love them in ways that defied explanation.

And now, they wanted to give something back.

“We’ve waited long enough,” one wife said, folding her hands on her lap.

“Ross has been so busy building for us, for the family. He’s given and given without ever asking for anything in return.”

Another wife nodded, her eyes warm. “It’s time we remind him that we see him. That we love him. Not just for what he does, but for who he is.”

The others murmured their agreement, a circle of women united not by competition, but by devotion—to him, and strangely, to each other.

There was no jealousy here, no rivalry. Only understanding.

And so the planning began.

It was to be a surprise. Something Ross wouldn’t see coming.

While he was occupied—likely in some high-level meeting or buried under the weight of paperwork—they would prepare everything.

The location, the timing, the details.

Every element had to be perfect. Not extravagant, but personal. Intimate.

A celebration not of power or wealth, but of family. Of love.

They spoke in hushed tones, excitement bubbling beneath their careful words.

Ideas were exchanged, laughter slipped in between memories, and slowly, a plan began to take shape.

It wasn’t just about throwing a party or giving him a gift—it was about creating a moment.

One that would speak to the heart of the man they all adored.

And all the while, they believed they were being discreet.

They believed Ross was completely unaware.

But what they didn’t know—what none of them realized—was that Ross had already sensed something.

He noticed the lingering glances, the hushed conversations that stopped when he entered the room.

The way they all seemed just a little more coordinated lately, a little more united in their secrecy.

He wasn’t a man easy to fool. And while he hadn’t pried or pressed, he’d been watching.

Quietly. Amused.

Let them think they’re surprising me, he thought with a rare smile.

Let them have their moment. I’ll pretend not to know. For them.

Because for all the power Ross Oakley held—for all the influence, the riches, the fear his name inspired in others—this was the part of his life that mattered most.

His family. His women. His children.

And as they worked together, plotting what they thought was a secret, Ross went about his day with a quiet warmth in his chest—knowing that, whatever they had planned, it was born from love.

And love, he would never take for granted.

***

One night, Ross returned home later than usual.

The sky outside was a canvas of deep velvet, dotted with stars, and the quiet hum of the city beyond his estate reminded him just how far he’d come.

He loosened his tie as he stepped out of his sleek black car, his body aching for the comfort of home, the warmth of familiarity.

What he didn’t expect—what he could never have prepared for—was the sight waiting just beyond the front door.

As he entered the foyer, the soft scent of jasmine and something sweeter—something unmistakably primal—hit him first.

He paused, brow furrowed, catching the edge of a sultry melody drifting from the living room.

The lights were dimmed, casting the space in a golden, ambient glow. And then he saw them.

All of his wives—every single one—stood together in the living room, a vision of beauty and seduction.

They were clad only in delicate lingerie: silk, lace, and whispers of fabric that barely covered their curves.

Each woman wore something different, tailored to her own sense of allure—Jasmine in crimson, Sophia in pale blue, Natalie in black with garters that clung like shadows.

Their eyes sparkled with mischief, desire, and love.

Ross stopped mid-step, stunned. “Well, well,” he drawled, lips curving into a slow grin. “Either I’ve died and gone to heaven… or you’ve all decided to make a man’s dreams come true.”

“We’ve been waiting for you,” Jasmine purred, sauntering forward on bare feet. Her fingers trailed down his chest, over the buttons of his shirt.

Ross let out a low laugh, already unfastening his cuffs. “I smell something in the air… something sweet. Excitement. Lust.”

He leaned in close, his voice a playful whisper. “I’d say someone—or several someones—are hungry tonight.”

Sophia giggled softly. “Maybe we are. Maybe we’ve had a meeting.”

Ross raised an eyebrow as he began removing his jacket. “A meeting?”

Natalie stepped forward then, lips painted a sultry red, her confidence magnetic. “A meeting about you.”

Ross’s grin widened. His shirt hit the floor. “Do tell.”

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