QT: I hijacked a harem system and now I'm ruining every plot(GL) Chapter 344: Confession

Chapter 345

Elliot

I don’t know where to start.

I take a deep breath. The air in the small office is thick, close. I can sll her—clean and dark and electric. It makes my head spin.

"I like you." The words co out before I can stop them. "I really like you. I’m in love with you."

She looks at . Expressionless. The way you’d look at a stranger asking for directions.

"I’m sure you’re not short of Alphas," she says.

"But I love you."

She doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. "I’ve said this before. I don’t like you."

The words should hurt. They do hurt. But I’ve been rejected before. I know how to push through it.

"That’s okay." I lean forward, let my voice go soft, hopeful. "I’m sure you can co to like . I don’t mind waiting."

She watches in silence.

"I can make you very happy." I’m talking faster now, the words tumbling out. "I can cook, and clean, and I’m—"

"Elliot." Her voice cuts through mine, sharp and final. "Stop. I will never feel that way about you."

I clench my fists. The fabric of my hoodie twists between my fingers.

"Is it because of her?" The question escapes before I can stop it. "Damien’s fiancée? I know about her. I’ve seen the way you look at her."

She doesn’t deny it.

"Unlike her, I would break things off imdiately." My voice is rising.

"I wouldn’t drag this out. I wouldn’t do this to you. I would choose you."

She looks at for a long, terrible mont. Then:

"It’s true that I’m in love with Vivienne." Her voice is calm. Quiet. "But even if Vivienne didn’t exist—even if she had never been born—I would never be interested in you."

The words land like stones in still water.

I stare at her. "You don’t an that."

"I do."

"I could be good for you. I could be—"

"Elliot." She says my na like she’s ending a conversation.

"This isn’t about what you can do for . It’s about what I don’t feel. And I don’t feel anything for you."

"I an sure you don’t like now." I lean forward, desperate, grasping. "But with ti, I’m sure we can—"

"Stop." Her voice is sharp now. "I’m not even attracted to n."

I blink. "I’m an Oga. You’re an Alpha."

"It’s not that."

"We’re biologically ant to be together." The words sound desperate even to my own ears. I don’t care. "The pheromones, the compatibility—"

She sighs.

"Listen to , Elliot." Her voice is quiet now. Controlled. "I’m only going to say this one final ti, in a cordial tone."

She ets my eyes.

"I’m not interested in you at all."

The words hang in the air between us. Final. Irreversible.

"I—"

"Tis up."

***

Dr. Wang

Is that Elliot?

I stop mid-sentence, the file in my hand forgotten. Through the rain-streaked window of the shelter’s clinic wing, I see him—those familiar golden curls, the slight fra, the way he moves like he’s trying to disappear.

He’s crying. Running. Leaving.

My hands tighten on the file. I watch him disappear around the corner, his figure swallowed by the gray afternoon. Sothing cold settles in my chest.

Then I see her.

She’s looking down at her phone, calm, composed, like she hasn’t just broken sothing that belongs to .

I set the file down. Walk out of the clinic. Across the courtyard. The rain hits my face, cold and sharp, but I don’t feel it.

She looks up when I’m a few feet away.

"Oh, have you finished with your rounds?" She adjusts her coat, brushing rain from her sleeve. "I was about to co talk to you about the clinical trials for the new suppressants."

Sothing in snaps.

My hand closes around her collar before I can think. The fabric bunches under my fingers, expensive and fine, and I pull her forward, close enough to see the fine lines at the corners of her eyes, the way her pupils contract in the gray light.

She raises an eyebrow.

"Well." Her voice is silk over steel. "What is this about?"

"What did you do to him?" The words co out low, rough. I can feel my pulse in my temples, in my throat, in the hand gripping her collar.

She rolls her eyes. The dismissal is so complete, so casual, that I almost shake her.

"Is that what this is about?" Her hand cos up, wraps around mine. Her grip is like iron. She squeezes, once, and my fingers go numb. I let go before I can stop myself.

She steps back, smoothing her collar, examining the fabric with a frown.

"This is expensive, you know." She touches her collar, where my grip left wrinkles. "You just ssed up the stitching."

"What did you do?" My voice is shaking now. I can’t stop it.

"Nothing." She ets my eyes. "If anything, I would like to live my life without him in it."

The words hit like ice water. I stare at her. This woman who has everything—money, power, her—and she can’t even pretend to care about what she’s done.

"He was crying." My voice is low. Rough.

She tilts her head. "And?"

My hand moves before I can stop it. She catches it mid-air, her grip iron, her expression unchanged.

"You might not care about your reputation, Dr. Wang." Her voice is calm. Quiet. "But I do."

I force myself to breathe. To lower my hand. To be the controlled, composed man I’ve spent years becoming.

"In fact." She smooths her coat, examining the wrinkled collar with distaste. "It’s good you’ve reacted this way. Please keep so reins on your Oga."

"He was crying because I’m not interested in whatever he’s offering."

She looks up at .

"Well. Is he even your Oga? I could have sworn he looks too similar to the one my brother keeps."

The implication is clear.

"Elliot is mine." The words co out before I can stop them. "He’s always been mine."

"Then put so reigns on him, the next alpha might not reject his advances."