QT: I hijacked a harem system and now I'm ruining every plot(GL) Chapter 335: Leave

Chapter 336

Damien

"...illogical behavior. You’re risking the campaign. I expect better from you."

My father’s voice drones on, a familiar litany of disappointnt and demand.

He’s been at it for twenty minutes—since the mont I walked through the door, since he saw the hospital visitor’s pass still in my pocket.

I stand in his study, hands clasped behind my back, and let the words wash over .

"...the press is already speculating. Your na, attached to that Oga, again. After everything we’ve done to contain—"

I love him.

The thought cuts through the noise, clear and sharp.

I love him.

I’ve known it for months—maybe longer. Since the first ti I saw him in that hospital hallway, since he crashed into and looked up with those green eyes. Since the first night he let hold him, since the first ti I woke up with him in my arms.

"...if you can’t control yourself, Damien, then perhaps you’re not ready for the responsibility of—"

I love him.

"Damien. Are you listening to ?"

I et my father’s eyes.

"Yes."

His gaze narrows. He knows I’m lying. He always knows.

"This obsession with the Oga—"

"He’s not an obsession." The words co out before I can stop them. "He’s not a scandal to be managed or a problem to be solved. He’s—"

"An Oga." My father’s voice is ice. "A male Oga with no family, no connections, no value beyond what you’ve assigned him in your—"

"Don’t." My hands unclench at my sides. "Don’t talk about him like that."

My father stares at . In all my years, I’ve never spoken to him like this. Never defied him. Never even wanted to.

"I love him." The words are out now. "I love him, and I’m not going to let him lie in a hospital bed alone because you’re worried about polling numbers."

Silence.

Long, heavy silence.

Then my father laughs. Not a happy laugh. The kind of laugh that makes your skin crawl.

"Love." He shakes his head. "You think this is love? You think that boy—who has spread his legs for every Alpha with a title and a bank account—you think he loves you?"

"Don’t talk about him like that." My fists clench at my sides. The blood in my veins is fire.

My father sighs, long and heavy. He walks to the window, you can see the fountain from there.

"Look." His voice is softer now. Almost reasonable. "I don’t care about the Oga. Back in my day, I had two or three extra Ogas myself. Your mother understood. It was expected."

He turns to face , and for a mont, he looks almost kind.

"I’m not telling you to stop seeing him. I’m telling you to get your priorities straight."

I stare at him. "My priorities?"

Eliot is my priority I want to say, but don’t.

"Your campaign. Your marriage. Your na." He ticks them off on his fingers. "These are the things that matter. The things that last. A boy like that—" He waves vaguely toward the window, toward the city, toward everything I’m supposed to want.

"He’ll be there when you need him. He’ll wait. They always wait."

***

Elijah

I want to stop this.

This horrible, toxic, wrong thing between that bastard and .

It’s like we’re drugged. That’s the only explanation I can accept. So chemical imbalance, so biological imperative, so thing that keeps pulling us together even when every rational part of my brain screams to run.

It started with the drugs at the club. That’s what I tell myself. The sa drugs that were ant for Elliot, for the Alphas, for that perfect night that was supposed to bring everyone together.

We were collateral damage. Accidentally dosed. Not responsible.

But that was weeks ago. The drugs are gone. The effects should have faded.

And yet—

No.

Stop.

I run my fingers through my hair, gripping the strands hard enough to hurt. The hospital parking lot is nearly empty at this hour. Just my car, a few others, and the weight of everything I’m trying not to feel.

My phone buzzes. Then again. Then again.

My secretary. My board. My life waiting for to return to it.

I ignore them all.

I sit with my head against the steering wheel, the leather cool against my forehead, and try to breathe.

It’s wrong.

Alphas can’t be together. That’s not how this works. That’s not how anything works. Alphas compete. Alphas fight. Alphas claim Ogas and build empires and leave marks on the world.

They don’t...they don’t want each other.

And it’s not just any Alpha.

It’s him.

Charles Grey.

The bastard who’s spent his whole life trying to destroy . Who stole my contracts, sabotaged my deals, spread rumors about my mother, about my past, about everything I’ve ever built. Who looked at across a hundred boardrooms with those cold, calculating eyes and saw nothing but competition.

I hate that bastard.

I like Elliot. He’s pretty and soft and slls amazing. When I first saw him,I thought he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I wanted him.

But as much as I don’t want to admit it, seeing him in that hospital bed tonight didn’t hurt as much as I expected it to.

I was concerned, yes. Sad, yes. I sat by his bed for an hour, holding his hand, watching him breathe.

But I wasn’t devastated.

I wasn’t heartbroken.

And that terrifies .

A tap on my car window.

I already know who it is.

I don’t turn. Don’t move. Just sit there with my head against the steering wheel, pretending I can’t see his silhouette in the glass, pretending I don’t know the shape of him by heart now.

Ignore him, I tell myself. Drive away. Go ho.

I last about thirty seconds.

I open the door.

"You’re still here." My voice cos out flat.

"I couldn’t leave." He looks at , and there’s sothing raw in his expression.

I should tell him to leave. Should close the door, drive away, but again I don’t and motion for him to get in the car.