Evil MC's NTR Harem-Chapter 519 Round

After that day, Ross finally accepted Sandra into his life.

With that settled, they threw themselves into preparations for his upcoming wedding to both Amy and Sandra.

The sheer absurdity of the situation—one man marrying two women—was enough to stir rumors, but Ross thrived on the attention.

It was just another chapter in the whirlwind story of his life.

Of course, an event of this magnitude didn’t come without its fair share of drama.

"What the fuck is this, Sandra?!"

A furious voice rang through the small café where Sandra had agreed to meet her boyfriend one last time.

Heads turned, but the handsome man didn’t care.

He slammed his fists onto the table, his face twisted in disbelief.

"I thought we were getting married! How the hell are you marrying that playboy son of a bitch?!"

The pain in his voice was raw, but Sandra had already steeled herself for this confrontation.

She sighed, looking at the man she had once envisioned a future with.

This man had been a good boyfriend—loyal, caring, and completely devoted to her.

And yet, none of it had been enough to keep her from walking down this new path.

"I’m sorry, Tony," she said softly, but there was no hesitation in her tone.

"It just happened. I didn’t plan for things to turn out this way, but they did."

Tony’s hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white.

"Bullshit. Did he brainwash you? Did he threaten you? Tell me, Sandra, how could you do this to us?"

She shook her head.

"You’ll find someone who truly deserves your love. Someone who can give you the kind of commitment you deserve." Her lips curved into a sad smile.

"As for me… I already found mine."

Tony stared at her, his anger giving way to something even worse—hurt. He had loved her.

He had been ready to spend the rest of his life with her. And now, she was walking away as if what they had meant nothing.

Sandra stood up, smoothing down her dress.

"Goodbye, Tony."

And just like that, she left, her heart pounding in her chest.

This was the last thing she could do for her ex—let him go without offering false hope.

As for Tony, he sat there, fists still clenched, his mind reeling from what had just happened.

He had lost her. And worse, he had lost her to Ross Oakley—the man who had made a habit of taking what others held dear.

In the end, Tony was just another name on the long list of men whose lives Ross had turned upside down.

Ross kept himself busy, personally assisting with the preparations.

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His presence at the Campbell residence was inevitable, and though it remained awkward with Adele and Steven, he had no trouble charming their three daughters.

They were all drawn to him in their own ways, but Diane, in particular, had become increasingly affectionate.

She was no longer subtle about it. Her touches lingered, her glances held a quiet hunger, and she often found excuses to be close to him.

There was no doubt in Ross’s mind—she was already captivated, not just by him, but by what she had seen between him and her mother.

"Ross, please teach me how to swim," Diane asked sweetly, her voice carrying a mix of innocence and something more deliberate.

She stood before him in a tight two-piece bikini, her body practically begging to be admired.

Ross, of course, agreed.

He couldn’t deny that the sight of her sent a rush of heat through him, but he kept his hands to himself.

He was patient. He knew exactly how this would play out.

Diane might have still been playing coy, but it was only a matter of time before she completely surrendered to him.

And just as he had predicted, one week later, she did.

That evening, Ross found himself drinking with Steven, something that had become a rare occurrence between them.

It was the first time he had chosen to address the elephant in the room—the incident that had turned their lives upside down.

"I’m sorry about what happened, Steven. I didn’t have a choice—we were all held at gunpoint," Ross said, swirling the drink in his glass before taking a sip.

Steven let out a bitter chuckle, his grip on the bottle tightening.

"I understand, Ross. It’s no one’s fault but those bastards’. I hope they all burn in hell," he slurred, his words thick with alcohol.

Ross watched him, noting the weariness in his expression.

He wasn’t sure if Steven fully accepted what had happened or if the alcohol was merely numbing the pain.

Either way, it wasn’t his problem.

Ross had no regrets. He always got what he wanted, one way or another.

And Diane? She was just another inevitable conquest.

Soon. Very, very soon.

"I’m sure they’re all burning in hell right now, Steven," Ross said, a slow smile playing on his lips.

His words weren’t just an assurance—they were a statement of fact. He had made sure of it.

Brandon and his gang of undead puppets had followed his orders to perfection, ensuring that those nine kidnappers suffered the most excruciating torment imaginable.

It wasn’t just about killing them; it was about making them beg for death, about dragging them through a nightmare they could never wake from.

The leader, ironically, had gotten off easy—his brain liquefied in half a breath, granting him a painless death unworthy of true punishment.

The others, however, had spent their final hours in agony, their screams lost to the night, their suffering a fitting price for their crimes.

Steven took another swig of his drink, his hand unsteady.

"Good," he muttered, his voice thick with alcohol.

"They deserved worse."

Ross simply nodded, his expression unreadable. He knew Steven was drowning his grief in liquor, trying to numb the pain of what had happened.

But Ross felt nothing—no guilt, no remorse.

Just the satisfaction of seeing justice delivered in his own way.

They drank deep into the night, the alcohol dulling their senses, making the weight of their conversation seem distant.