Evil MC's NTR Harem-Chapter 685 Access

Chapter 685 -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.” frёewebηovel.cѳm

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.”