Evil MC's NTR Harem

"Are you okay, girlfriend? Why the long face?" asked a stunning woman with icy blue eyes and high cheekbones, her Russian roots evident in both her accent and elegance.

She placed a manicured hand gently on her friend's arm, concern flickering in her expression.

Kristine, the beautiful Filipina sitting across from her, gave a faint smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

She looked down at her drink—a tall glass of mango juice with a small umbrella poking out—and stirred it absentmindedly with the straw.

"I don't know, Sasha," she said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of something deeper. "Colton's just… not the same lately. Ever since he lost in the NBA Finals, he's been different."

Sasha raised a perfectly shaped brow. "Different how? You mean like... sad? Distant?"

Kristine let out a soft, humorless laugh. "I wish it were just that. He's become more controlling—paranoid, even. He asked for all the passwords to my social media accounts last week. Then yesterday, he wanted the passcode to my phone. I didn't think much of it at first, but... it's getting weird."

Sasha's expression shifted from concern to mild disbelief. "Wait, what? That doesn't sound like Colton at all. He used to be so confident. Cool. Always the guy who walked into a room like he owned it."

"Exactly," Kristine said, leaning back in her seat. "That's what made me fall in love with him. He had this unshakable presence. But now… it's like the loss shook him to his core. He doesn't trust me anymore. Or maybe he doesn't trust himself."

The women sat in silence for a moment, the sounds of clinking glasses and soft lounge music filling the upscale café around them.

"I'm trying to be patient," Kristine continued, her voice softer now. "I know losing the championship hit him hard. He poured everything into that season. But I didn't expect it to affect us like this."

Sasha nodded slowly, thoughtful. "Men and pride—it's a complicated thing. Especially for someone like Colton. When they lose something that defines them, it rattles their sense of identity. But still… there's no excuse for him to take it out on you."

"I keep wondering if I'm overreacting," Kristine admitted. "Maybe it's just a phase. Maybe I need to give him space. Or maybe…" Her voice trailed off.

"Maybe he needs a wake-up call," Sasha finished for her. "He's lucky to have you, Kristine. Don't let him make you feel otherwise."

Kristine gave a grateful smile. "Thanks, Sasha. You always know what to say."

Sasha smiled back, then clapped her hands lightly. "Alright, enough doom and gloom. Let's forget about insecure husbands and paranoid basketball stars. You need a distraction. Shopping spree, my treat. And then maybe some ice cream?"

Kristine laughed—really laughed—for the first time that day. "God, yes. Let's go crazy. I need a new pair of heels anyway."

The two friends stood up, linking arms as they left the café behind, their laughter trailing through the air like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

They followed through on all their plans—and more.

From a luxurious boutique in the fashion district to a surprise stop at their favorite gelato spot, Sasha and Kristine made the most of the day.

As dusk settled over the city, they ended their outing with dinner at an elegant rooftop restaurant, its panoramic view of the skyline bathed in golden twilight.

It was a perfect setting—soft jazz playing in the background, candlelight dancing on wine glasses, and the quiet murmur of conversation from other diners adding to the relaxed ambiance.

They'd dressed up for the occasion, not for anyone else, but for themselves.

Kristine wore a pale blue dress that complimented her complexion, while Sasha's sleek red number turned more than a few heads.

They laughed over old college memories—Sasha's dramatic break-up in the middle of the library, Kristine's failed attempt at baking cookies for a guy she liked—and toasted to the years that had flown by since.

They had been inseparable back then, and even now, after careers, marriages, and changes, they were still each other's sanctuary.

They were more than best friends; they were each other's constants.

The type of bond that didn't need daily texts or constant communication to remain strong.

They could pick up after weeks apart and fall right back into sync. It was rare, and they both knew it.

But there was an unspoken understanding that this season of their lives wouldn't last forever.

Kristine was married now. Her responsibilities had shifted.

Sasha, ever the free spirit, was still enjoying her independence, but even she spoke more often about settling down, about finding someone serious.

And when children came into the picture—because they would, eventually—days like this would be harder to come by.

Schedules would conflict. Priorities would change.

So tonight, they savored the moment like a final glass of wine—full of warmth, bittersweet around the edges.

And then, just as their food arrived and they were debating over whether to share a dessert, a voice interrupted their bubble.

"Hello, ladies. Mind if I join you for the night?" came the smooth, unfamiliar voice of a man.

They looked up, caught off guard. The man was tall, dressed in a sharp navy blazer with the casual charm of someone used to getting his way.

His smile was confident—too confident—and before either of them could respond, he pulled out the chair beside Kristine and sat down without waiting for permission.

"My date stood me up," he added, as if that somehow justified the intrusion. "Hate to eat alone."

Kristine blinked, momentarily stunned. Sasha, on the other hand, narrowed her eyes slightly. Her lips curled into a polite smile, but there was a flicker of ice behind her gaze.

"Wow," Sasha said slowly, setting her wine glass down. "That's… bold."

"We were actually in the middle of something," Kristine added, trying to keep her voice light but firm. "A girls' night."

"Even better," the man said with a chuckle, completely undeterred. "I've always been told I have great energy. Besides, three's a party, right?"