Chapter 9
last update2026-09-15 13:53:46

"For once, we agree." He typed back quickly, telling Autumn she was welcome tonight and that he would leave the garage code with the butler.

Winter Hayes messaged next, her tone careful and respectful.

[Mr. Cole, this is Winter. I'm honored by the match. I'm currently stationed at a coastal outpost for work and won't be able to travel to New York for approximately two weeks. I hope that's acceptable. I don't want to cause any inconvenience.]

Maxver told her there was no rush, that he appreciated her letting him know, and that he'd keep her room ready whenever she arrived. A staggered arrival was better anyway. Getting to know five women at once sounded like a recipe for chaos.

Chloe Bennett had accepted the friend request but sent nothing. Radio silence. Maxver didn't push it. Some people needed time.

Riley Shaw hadn't even accepted yet. Given what the system had shown him about her location, she was probably still fighting exotic beasts in the Nevada desert. He'd worry about her later.

The flying car descended toward a neighborhood Maxver had never visited before. Silver Oak Estate. The residential enclave reserved for S rank citizens, tucked into the green hills north of Manhattan, shielded by a dome of purified air that made the sky look bluer than anywhere else in the city.

His new home was the third villa on the left. Three stories of white stone and glass, surrounded by a garden that wrapped around the entire property. He could see a pool glinting in the backyard, a sunroom on the second floor, and what looked like a private gym through the ground floor windows.

"Sir, I have completed the transfer of your belongings from your previous residence." His S class butler robot, a taller and far more refined unit than the old chrome model, stood at the front door with perfect posture. Its voice was smooth, almost human. "All rooms have been prepared. The gym, pool, and sunroom are fully operational."

"This is mine?" Maxver walked through the front door and stopped in the entrance hall, looking up at a ceiling that was three stories high and flooded with natural light from a skylight shaped like a hexagon. "This whole thing is mine?"

"Correct, sir. S rank residential allocation. Three floors, seven bedrooms, four bathrooms, full kitchen, entertainment suite, garden, pool, and underground garage with capacity for eight vehicles."

Maxver walked from room to room like a man touring a dream he hadn't earned yet. The kitchen was enormous, the living room had a viewing wall that stretched floor to ceiling, and the garden out back smelled like real earth and flowers instead of recycled air and metal.

Then he looked out the front window and his tour came to a sudden stop.

Directly across the street, in the villa facing his, a woman stood on the front porch watering plants. She had long auburn hair and the kind of delicate features that belonged on the cover of a romance novel. Behind her, through the open front door, he could hear voices. Multiple women. And one deeper male voice cutting through them all.

His light brain helpfully identified the property. Registered to Wyatt Jansen. S rank male. Five matched beast wives.

Maxver felt his stomach drop about two inches.

Wyatt Jansen. The book's male lead. The protagonist. The man around whom the entire story revolved, the man whose enemies got crushed and whose women got worshipped and whose path to the top was paved with the broken bodies of every supporting character who dared to stand in his way.

And Maxver Cole, the minor villain whose entire narrative purpose was to antagonize the male lead and get destroyed for it, was now living directly across the street from him.

"System."

[Yes, host?]

"The male lead of the book is my neighbor."

[Correct. Wyatt Jansen resides at the villa across the street with his five beast wives, including the female lead Cassidy.]

Maxver took a slow, deep breath. Then another. Then he stepped back from the window and drew the curtain closed.

"Here's the plan. I mind my own business. I don't look at his wives. I don't talk to his friends. I don't breathe in his direction. I live my life, run my purifications, treat my new wives well, and pretend that man doesn't exist."

[A wise survival strategy. The original Maxver Cole's downfall began precisely because he antagonized Wyatt Jansen.]

"Then I'm doing the opposite of everything that idiot did." Maxver turned away from the window and headed for the couch. "I'm going to be the most boring, invisible, conflict free neighbor in the history of Silver Oak Estate."

He stretched out on the sofa, closed his eyes, and let himself enjoy exactly four seconds of peace before his butler robot chimed in.

"Sir, Ms. Autumn Reyes has entered the underground garage. She is on her way up."

Maxver sat up, straightened his shirt, and ran a hand through his hair.

Time to meet wife number one.

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  • CHAPTER 63

    They rejoined the others in the lounge. Chloe was the first to notice something off. She looked at Maxver's face, at the bright clarity in his eyes and the easy looseness in his posture, and her brow furrowed."You burned through ninety percent of your Mental Power less than an hour ago." Her blue eyes narrowed with genuine confusion. "How are you already fully recovered?"Maxver reached over and pressed a single finger against her lips. "That's my secret. Don't ask."Chloe blinked against his fingertip. Then she nodded once and said nothing more.Behind Maxver, Autumn and Sienna exchanged the smallest of smiles. Two women who shared a secret they had absolutely no intention of explaining to anyone who hadn't earned it yet.Back at the villa that evening, Maxver sat cross legged on the living room floor with a pile of beast cores arranged in front of him. He picked up the first one, a marble sized sphere of compressed energy, and pressed it against his palm. The core dissolved slowly,

  • CHAPTER 62

    Maxver closed his eyes and entered Reagan's mental world for the second time. The landscape was marginally better than the day before. The cracks in the ground had narrowed slightly and a handful of dead trees had developed the faintest ghost of color at their tips. Ten percent less contamination had given the dying world just enough oxygen to keep breathing.The White Tiger was in the same place. Curled on the forest floor, wounds still raw, amber eyes open and tracking him the moment he appeared.He approached slowly. "Marshal Sloane. I'm back. Same as yesterday. I'm going to clear what I can."The White Tiger watched him for a long moment. Then she dragged her broken body three feet backward without breaking eye contact. Same wariness. Same refusal."Alright." Maxver stopped and held up both hands. "We do it the hard way again."He extended his Mental Power as green threads and sent them fanning across the mental landscape, hooking into contamination clusters and ripping them free

  • CHAPTER 61

    "He exhausted himself during your session, Marshal." Dr. Cross stepped forward with a hydration tube. "His wives carried him to a private room to rest. He burned through ninety percent of his reserves in less than two hours."Reagan closed her eyes. Even though he was not there, even though he could not hear her, the words came out anyway."Thank you." She whispered it to the ceiling. "Thank you for coming when nobody else would."She sat up on the platform and turned inward, reaching through the damaged connection to her spiritual entity. The White Tiger was still there, still curled in the ruined mental forest, still covered in wounds."Why did you refuse to let him touch you?" Reagan's question was directed inward, spoken mind to mind. "He was trying to help. He came closer than anyone has in months."The White Tiger opened one amber eye, looked at her through the broken landscape of their shared mind, and closed it again without answering.Reagan shook her head and stood. Her legs

  • CHAPTER 60

    Autumn looked at his hand pressed against her bare side, then looked at his face. His eyes were half closed with exhaustion but the intention behind his touch was unmistakable. Nothing about the position of his fingers said fox form. Nothing about the warmth radiating from his palm said purification."Master Cole." Her voice was careful and clinical despite the flush climbing up her neck. "Five minutes ago you said you wanted to sleep with the little fox. Your hand is telling me something very different.""I changed my mind." His thumb moved once against her skin, slow and deliberate.Autumn's golden eyes searched his face. What she found there made her breath catch. He meant it. Completely and without pretense."You just burned ninety percent of your Mental Power purifying a nine star beastwoman." Her doctor's instincts surged to the front, pushing past everything else. "Your body needs rest. Let me transform and you can hold the fox while you recover.""If you don't want to, I can c

  • CHAPTER 59

    The tiger dragged her broken body backward, her claws scraping against the cracked earth. A low growl rumbled in her throat, not aggressive but afraid. The sound of a creature that had been hurt so many times it had stopped believing that hands could carry anything other than pain.Maxver talked to her. He kept his voice low and constant, the way he might talk to a frightened animal in a shelter. He told her she was safe. He told her the fighting was over for now. He told her that the ground would hold because he was going to make it hold.The wariness never fully left her eyes. She watched him from six feet away with her ears flat and her body pressed against the dirt, and no amount of gentle words closed the distance between them.He gave up on touching her. Instead he raised both hands and extended his Mental Power outward in thin green threads. The threads reached across the dead landscape and sank into the blackened soil, wrapping around the contamination deposits embedded in the

  • CHAPTER 58

    Maxver stood at the edge of the purification platform and looked down at the woman bound to it. Reagan Sloane's amber eyes stared back at him through a haze of pain and exhaustion, one percent of a human being holding on behind the body of a wounded beast."Marshal Sloane, I need you to do something for me before I start." He kept his voice low and gentle, the way someone talks to a person standing on a ledge. "Relax your body. Stop fighting the restraints. And open your mental world so I can enter without forcing my way through. It will hurt less if you let me in willingly."Reagan blinked. The tiger ears pressed flat against her skull twitched once. Something shifted behind her amber eyes, a flicker of surprise that cut through the animal fury like sunlight through storm clouds.She had been handled by military doctors and combat medics for weeks. Every single one of them had spoken to her in commands, in clinical protocols, in the language of procedure and urgency.Nobody had spoke

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