QT: I hijacked a harem system and now I'm ruining every plot(GL) Chapter 332: Guest

Chapter 333

Elliot

I look at the Han Mansion and clench my fingers around my tote bag.

It’s been in multiple magazine spreads—one of the city’s historical spots, passed down through generations, a monunt to old money and older power. Seeing it in person is different. The stone walls, the iron gates, the gardens that stretch out like sothing from a dream.

The guard lets in through the tiny side gate and I step inside, heart pounding.

This place is beautiful.

The garden stretches before , manicured and wild all at once. Roses climb trellises. Hedges shape hidden paths. Is that a fountain?

I stop, just staring.

Wow.

I keep walking, my tote bag swinging at my side, my eyes hungry for every detail. This is where she lives.

I’m so lost in the beauty of it that I don’t hear the footsteps until it’s too late.

Soone grabs my arm. Rough. Insistent.

"Elliot." Damien’s voice, low and sharp. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I open my mouth to answer, but he doesn’t wait.

"Nevermind." He starts dragging toward the gate, his grip painful. "Let’s go."

"Damien—"

"I said let’s—"

"Brother."

We both freeze.

Daphne Han stands at the edge of the patio, one hand resting on the stone railing, her dark hair loose around her shoulders.

"What are you doing to my guest?"

Damien’s grip tightens on my arm. "Guest? He’s not—"

She raises an eyebrow, and my heart stutters. Wow. She’s so perfect. The way the afternoon light catches her hair. The way she stands, like nothing in the world could shake her. I can’t believe she’s real.

"But he is." Her voice is calm, certain. "I invited him."

She looks at . At the slight curve of her lips. At the challenge in her eyes.

"Didn’t I?"

"Yes." My voice cos out steadier than I feel. "She invited ."

Damien’s hand is a vice around my arm. Painful. Desperate. But I barely feel it. All I can see is her.

"I don’t know what you’re thinking." She hasn’t looked away from .

"But he’s only here to help with work. Rember, you need to appeal to the Oga population for the elections." Her smile sharpens.

"I’m planning sothing with him."

"Yeah." I nod quickly. "It’s a formal invitation. An initiative with local Ogas in the community."

When I received the email, I thought it was Damien. A political outreach, sothing to keep in his orbit, another excuse to see him. I agreed without hesitation,I wouldn’t pass up the chance to be near her, even if it was through him.

It wasn’t Damien at all.

She invited .

Not Damien. Not so assistant. Her.

My heart is a wild thing in my chest, beating against my ribs like it wants to escape, to run to her, to prove itself.

I pull away from Damien’s hand, putting deliberate distance between us.

"I apologize, Mayor Han." My voice is steady, formal.

Damien’s jaw tightens. His eyes dart between us, calculating, suspicious.

"I’ll find you later." His voice is clipped.

I don’t acknowledge him. Don’t look back.

***

Daphne

Well. It doesn’t feel nice, does it?

I open the garden door for Elliot, guiding him inside with a hand on his lower back. Just a touch. Just enough. I feel him shiver under my fingers, feel the way he leans into like a flower toward the sun.

I glance back at Damien before the door closes.

A smirk. Just a flicker. Just enough.

His face is white. His hands are clenched. He looks like a man watching his world crumble.

Good.

I let the door swing shut.

[Host. This is unwise.]

Probably.

The second we’re out of his sight, I pull away, creating careful distance between us. My hand drops from his back. I move ahead, guiding him to chairs in the garden. I’m not going to be in an enclosed space with him.

A servant appears with my tablet, summoned by a quick ssage sent from my phone. I take it, motion for Elliot to sit across from , not beside.

"As I said in the email." I keep my voice professional, clipped.

"You are not the only Oga we’ve selected. We’ve reached out to over a thousand random Ogas from all walks of life. The goal is to understand the reality of Oga life in this city—the struggles, the barriers, the needs that aren’t being addressed."

I open the tablet, pull up the survey. "Today, we’ll focus on education. Your experiences. Your challenges. The ways the system failed you, or supported you."

He’s staring at .

Those green eyes, wide and hopeful, fixed on my face like I’m the sun and he’s been starving for light.

The sa look that makes my skin crawl and my stomach turn.

I ignore it.

"Shall we begin?"

He blinks, like he’s surfacing from deep water. "I...yes. Of course."

He sits across from , perching on the edge of his chair like he’s waiting for sothing. Waiting for to slip, to soften, to give him what he wants.

I open the survey and start asking questions.

"What was your experience with primary education? Were you segregated from Alpha students?"

He answers in a small voice. The words are halting at first, then steadier. He talks about being moved to a different classroom when the Alphas started their leadership training. About lessons on "decorum" while the Alphas learned debate. About being told, again and again, that his body was his greatest asset and his mind was secondary.

No matter how much I really, really , really, really, really dislike him this world is genuinely horrible to Ogas.

The whole "equality" thing is only on the surface. According to this world’s tiline, equal rights for won have existed for centuries—in cultures where female Alphas held power, the logic went that if an Alpha could be female, then females deserved rights. Betas followed. But Ogas...

Ogas were left behind.

It’s only been sixty years since it beca illegal to forcibly mate them. Only sixty years since they stopped being property in the eyes of the law.

But laws don’t change hearts. Don’t change minds. Don’t change the way Alphas look at Ogas like they’re prey, like they’re prizes, like they’re things.

I will not leave this world before changing the laws.