CHAPTER 399: TIMELY

The walk-in closet’s climate-controlled air kissed our skin as we emerged, Emma’s fingers threaded possessively through mine. She’d raided the racks for vintage band tees and ripped jeans—my old Metallica shirt swallowed her frame, smelling faintly of cedar and me.

The scent clung as we ascended the back stairs to the main house.

Halfway down, Sarah sat perched on the polished mahogany steps, scrolling lazily through her phone. She glanced up, eyes sharp. "Mom almost walked in on your ’shower conference’," she said, voice dry as desert wind.

Emma shivered, pressing closer to my side.

Sarah shook her head, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Relax. I redirected her to the rose garden. Said you were... adjusting the gym’s new sound system." She met my gaze. "You owe me."

"Owe you several," I corrected, squeezing Emma’s hand. Sarah just hummed, standing to link her arm through my free one. Twin anchors flanked me—Emma buzzing with post-coital defiance, Sarah radiating quiet, watchful devotion.

Public restraint. Private ownership. The dichotomy was electric. Although Mom had been rather public with her need for me, it would be a different story if she knew I was fucking her daughter. She can’t know, not yet.

We found Mom in the kitchen, already dressed in her crisp nurse’s uniform, a light breakfast in hand. It was 10 a.m., and the plan for the day was set.

"We’re heading out for some shopping," I said, as the twins clung to my arms.

The memory of yesterday’s conversation about the canceled family meeting hung in the air, an unspoken current beneath the morning’s casual surface. Mom had initially cleared her schedule for Saturday, a rare day off dedicated to the monumental step of formally meeting the Torres family.

But with their sudden corporate crisis, she’d quietly rescinded her request and decided to work, a practical decision wrapped in a layer of unexpressed disappointment. I had reassured her then; a casual comment tossed into the conversation:

"Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll see what I can do to help them sort it out." She’d given me a look—a complex mix of maternal pride and bewildered awe at the impossible scale of my capabilities—but had simply nodded.

Now, that divergence in our paths was physically manifest in the kitchen. She stood by the counter, already in her starched nurse’s uniform, a symbol of her world of tangible, hands-on care. In her hand was a simple piece of buttered bread, a quick bite before heading out to a reality of shift work and hospital corridors.

Meanwhile, I stood with the twins and Charlotte, a stark contrast. We were dressed not for work, but for indulgence—well-tailored casual wear that spoke of leisure and luxury. We were a portrait of the new life I was building, while she was an anchor to the old.

Her eyes scanned over us, lingering on the way both Emma and Sarah were practically fused to my sides. A weary, fond smile touched her lips. "Try not to spoil them too much, Peter," she said, her voice carrying the gentle chiding of a mother who’d spent a lifetime budgeting and sacrificing.

Emma, ever the dramatic, immediately squealed and hugged my arm tighter, pressing her cheek against my bicep. "Mom, that’s not fair! You’re just jealous you have to work!" she protested, though her eyes sparkled with playful insolence.

The sound of our shared laughter filled the room, a comfortable, familial noise that masked a universe of secrets. No one questioned the twins’ possessive clinging. Charlotte, observing from near the espresso machine with her cup in hand, watched the scene with a perceptive, slightly amused gaze. She knew the truth about Emma and me; that particular cat was out of the bag.

But Sarah’s secret remained her own, her quiet devotion hidden behind a mask of sisterly affection.

As for Mom, she saw not a taboo revelation, but a regression to a comforting childhood pattern. The twins had always been my shadows and only stopped clinging to me when they turned eighteen; To her, this was just a return to a familiar, an old, harmless habit, innocent dynamic—a sign that her family was healing and close-knit once more.

She had no idea of the profound, carnal redefinition that had occurred.

She just laughed again, a soft, shaking of her head that spoke volumes of her resignation to our new, extravagant normalcy. Taking a final bite of her bread, she picked up her laptop bag. "Have fun," she said, before turning and walking toward the living room, leaving us to our day of planned excess.

I turned to Charlotte, who was looking effortlessly elegant in her casual wear. "Feel like tagging along?"

She offered a graceful, noncommittal shrug. "ARIA is overseeing everything. It is the weekend, after all." She took a sip of her coffee, her eyes meeting mine over the rim of the cup. "I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t."

Her tone was light, but the acceptance felt significant. The shopping group had officially grown, now including the brilliant, recovering CEO who was slowly becoming another integral piece of my world.

A quick glance showed a flurry of excited messages from the Lincoln Heights girls that hadn’t stopped while the Miami girls pouted wishing they were here too. Isabella, Luna, Victoria and others—they were all ready, and their texts were a cascade of winking emojis and teasing hints about a surprise that was "worth the wait."

But it was the message that slid in beneath theirs, marked with a simple but urgent priority tag, that made my pulse kick up a notch.

It was from ARIA. "Master—The BioLa situation has accelerated. Darlus Constructions is moving to finalize the contract within the next six hours. However, more of my analysis has pinpointed other critical vulnerability in their position, it is even better than what I gae you earlier. The opportunity to deliver a twenty-billion-dollar victory to Madison today is viable, but it requires immediate action. Instructions attached."

I stopped walking, the laughter of the twins fading into the background. I looked at Charlotte, already gracefully sliding into the passenger seat of her Defender. I looked at Emma and Sarah, playfully arguing over who would sit beside me in the car. I thought of the fleet of messages from the other women, waiting to unveil their surprise, a day doubtless planned around indulgence and worship.

Today was supposed to be about conquests of a different kind—supercars, penthouses, and the spoils of the empire I was building for them.

It seemed fate had other ideas. Looked like I’d be saving Madison’s family legacy first.

A slow, determined smile spread across my face as I opened ARIA’s detailed breakdown. The garage door began its low hum, rising to reveal the day.

Why choose, all that I needed was give Madison and her father this way through and focus on my car shopping and upcoming orgy.

I focused on My Harem chat, and their texts were filled with teasing hints about a surprise they had planned for me. A thrill of anticipation ran through me. The day was unfolding into something far more complex and interesting than a simple shopping trip. I couldn’t wait to see what they had in store.