Phei turned back to Brian and Landon, eyes narrowing like a captain demanding mission reports from two soldiers who had clearly gone rogue.
"So." His gaze flicked between them. "Explain. Now."
Brian sighed the long-suffering sigh of a man who had been rehearsing this exact mont the entire car ride over. He’d even begged Landon to drive separately so he could arrive first and seize narrative control like a war criminal claiming the moral high ground.
"Well, this amateur—" He gestured at Landon with theatrical disappointnt, the motion dripping with fake ntorship gone tragically wrong. "—sohow managed to lose the girl he pulled at the club."
Landon’s face went full tomato.
"Luckily," Brian continued, savoring every syllable like fine wine aged in embarrassnt, "it was right after they had sex and he lost his virginity in what I can only assu was a performance that made the Kama Sutra file for emotional damages."
"BRIAN!" Landon’s voice cracked like a thirteen-year-old hitting puberty mid-sentence. "Was that detail really necessary?!"
Brian tilted his head, stroked his chin, and put on the solemn expression of a philosopher contemplating the heat death of the universe.
"Yes," he concluded gravely. "Yes, it was. Future historians will thank ."
He shrugged. The laugh that followed was pure, unfiltered evil — zero remorse, zero sha, zero recognition that he was live-roasting his best friend’s dignity in front of twenty very entertained witnesses.
"Luckily, he found Cherry on her way ho from the sa club. One thing led to another." Brian’s hands waved vaguely like he was conducting an invisible rom-com orchestra. "They chatted. Exchanged numbers. Went on a date. That one went surprisingly well. Then another date. Also went well. And then—"
"We’re dating now!" Landon blurted at hyperspeed, practically tackling the conversation to the ground before Brian could drop the uncensored director’s cut. "That’s it! End of story! No further questions, your honor!"
Brian’s grin turned demonic. He kept the interrupted details away for future deploynt like a loaded weapon with Landon’s na engraved on it.
Emily, who had drifted closer with the silent grace of a shark slling fresh blood in the water, shook her head slowly.
"Poor Cherry."
The words landed like a sniper shot to the balls.
Landon’s flush upgraded from embarrassed pink to full nuclear crimson — he was being attacked from an angle he hadn’t even known existed.
"What’s that supposed to an, Emily?!"
She shrugged, the casual motion of soone who had watched him fail at life since diapers and had developed strong, well-docunted opinions.
"We all know you’ll lose her with your incompetence. Get a few lessons from Brian before you fumble soone who has sohow — against all odds, against basic pattern recognition, and against the laws of God and common sense — overlooked your entire personality."
Brian’s laugh exploded like a grenade.
He clapped Landon on the shoulder with benevolent ntor energy that sohow made everything worse. "Don’t worry, Em. The ntorship is progressing beautifully. We’ve covered basic conversation. We’ve covered confidence. Next week we’re tackling ’how to maintain eye contact without looking like you’re having a dical ergency.’ Baby steps."
Landon looked like he was praying the tarmac would open up and yeet him straight into the earth’s molten core. Quick. rciful. Anything to escape this public execution.
Phei let them suffer for another glorious three seconds — he was benevolent, not soft — before his attention shifted to the third car.
The PkoenigseggJesko sat at the end of the formation, engine still purring like a contented predator, windows tinted to full opacity, its driver conspicuously and suspiciously absent from the reunion happening re ters away.
"Can anyone tell why David’s not getting out?"
Landon seized the subject change like a drowning man grabbing a life raft, a rope, and a floating door all at once. "He’s probably livestreaming everything from inside the car. He knows we’d confiscate his live-stream gear if he stepped out here with us. Force him to interact with actual humans using his real face instead of a screen na."
They all shook their heads in perfect, exhausted unison — a synchronized gesture of lifelong acceptance.
David couldn’t be helped. The boy was terminally online in ways that defied dical science, therapy, and basic human evolution. He had millions of followers. Sponsors. A rch line. He had turned "touching grass" into a content category and sohow made it profitable.
"At least David didn’t bring his whole gang," Brian added, silver-lining energy finally creeping into his voice. "Otherwise this entire thing would’ve turned into a content farm. Drone shots. Reaction videos. Thirty-seven different edits of Phei’s face when he saw our cars. Hashtag ’RichBoyProblems.’"
"I would have murdered them all," Phei said calmly, like he was discussing the weather.
"See?" Brian grinned. "This is why we planned ahead. We’re saving lives here."
Phei turned to Brian with a raised eyebrow, pivoting straight into offense. "What about you? Weren’t you supposed to be bringing any of your two won along?"
Yes, Brian had scored another girl to make it tow while Landon still fumbled on getting his real first.
Brian shook his head, smile turning full predatory — he had plans, and he was about to share them whether anyone wanted to hear or not.
"Unlike this overexcited virgin—"
"I am no longer a virgin!" Landon protested, voice cracking again, dignity in absolute shambles.
"— I’m planning to spread my superior genes across the beauties of Hell’s Paradise Island like a benevolent god distributing blessings." Brian spread his arms wide, encompassing the private jet, the tarmac, the gathered crowd of beautiful won, and the entire trip stretching ahead like an all-you-can-eat buffet of romantic possibility.
"My ladies understand. They support the mission. They’ll join later, once I’ve surveyed the landscape and identified optimal targets." He nodded sagely. "A man needs variety, Phei. Surely you of all people understand this."
He gestured at the assembled harem with both hands, as if presenting Exhibit A in the Court of SupreRizz.
Phei laughed, surprised out of him despite his best efforts at maintaining captain-level dignity.
Emily’s palm connected with her own face with an audible slap of pure despair.
"Phei’s presence is starting to get contagious." She pointed at Landon with an accusatory finger, voice heavy with quarantine urgency. "You better not follow their example, or I’m telling your mom."
Landon sputtered. "Are you my sister or so kind of guardian?!"
"I’m your conscience," Emily shot back without missing a beat. "Soone has to be, since you clearly don’t have one of your own. Left to your own devices, you’d beco Brian Junior within six months, and then your mother would kill you, and then she’d kill for not preventing it. I’m not dying for your bad decisions, Landon."
"That’s—that’s not—"
"Am I wrong?"
Landon opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
No words ca out.
Brian patted his shoulder sympathetically. "She’s not wrong. Tragically accurate, actually."
The banter continued in swirling eddies of glorious chaos — Maddie inserting herself into the conversation with characteristic nuclear energy, asking Brian invasive questions about his "superior genes" that made even him pause for half a second.
Sierra watching from a careful distance with amusent she was trying (and failing) to hide behind ice-queen composure. Delilah laughing openly, her curves shaking with each giggle. Amber still processing the fact that Phei apparently had an entire team of equally insane friends, her expression suggesting she was recalculating exactly what she’d signed up for.
Yuki had approached David’s Jesko and was now knocking on the window, patient and determined, like a scientist coaxing a rare specin from its habitat.
But then—
A new sound cut through the noise.
Different from the screaming supercars. Deeper. More refined. The particular purr of British engineering that had spent centuries perfecting the art of understated dominance — of showing up to the supercar party in sothing that cost twice as much and didn’t need to prove it by being loud.
A Dolls-Royce glided into view.
Black. Immaculate. Moving with the quiet confidence of old money that didn’t need to announce itself because everyone already knew it was coming. The Ashford Family crest glead on the front grille — subtle, elegant, devastating in its implications.
The car stopped.
Everyone turned.
Conversations died mid-sentence. Maddie’s interrogation of Brian’s romantic philosophy trailed off. Even Yuki abandoned her attempts to extract David from his streaming cave.
Everyone knew.
Everyone had been waiting.
The Virgin Succubushad arrived.
Phei’s eyes fixed on the vehicle as his ntal roster completed itself automatically, years of tactical thinking turning people into positions on a board.
His won were here lissa, Maddie, Sierra, Delilah, Maya, Patricia Bloom, Valentina, Cassiopeia.
And then his Emily, organizing everything with her tablet clutched like a weapon, close to his family, Sienna and Victoria.
The new additions on the expedition Amber, still looking overwheld. Yuki, still trying to get David to erge.
And then his boys Brian, smirking. Landon, recovering from emotional damage. David, still hiding in his goddamn Jesko.
Cherry — Landon’s unexpected plus-one, navigating unfamiliar waters with surprising grace.
Catrina and Lydia — the core mbers of the PheiCrush Simps who stood next to Emily, the ones who’d helped her organize this entire expedition, who’d coordinated logistics and handled details and probably hadn’t slept in three days.
All of them here.
All of them waiting.
And now Elena Ashford was about to step onto the tarmac and make everything infinitely more complicated.
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