My Harem Will Help Me Get My Revenge-Chapter 52: [ - - 48.1] Iris backstabbed

Chapter 48.1

"Now," she said, voice dropping low and greedy, "It’s your fucking turn to deliver."

Marcus chuckled, low and silky through the phone, "Patience, my wicked little darling," he murmured, voice dripping with amusement, "First things first. Send me the file. You know how business is done, don’t you?"

Cassey rolled her eyes, grinding her teeth in annoyance, "And I am not stupid enough to hand over the whole goddamn thing without seeing something in return," she snapped, voice sharp and biting.

A pause hung between them, thick with tension. Then Marcus laughed again, a low, dangerous sound that slid down her spine like a knife dipped in honey.

"Smart girl," he said, almost admiringly, "You are starting to become my favorite little viper."

His words stroked her ego like a velvet glove over a loaded gun. She smirked, feeling herself practically glow with hollow pride.

"Fine," Marcus said lazily, "Half the file first. Then you get your payday."

Cassey huffed but didn’t argue this time. She took a few screenshots, blurred random stuff, letting Marcus see just enough. And then she sent it to Marcus.

Barely a minute later, her phone buzzed again, it was a notification.

"Alert: Your A/C XXXXX1234 has been credited with USD 30,000,000.00 on 28-APR-2025 at 21:35 HRS. Available Balance: USD 33,091,167.17. Ref No: TXN54231678.

For queries, contact your Relationship Manager or call 1-800-XXXX."

Cassey’s eyebrows shot up as she saw the amount. A slow, satisfied smile curled across her lips.

"That’s more like it," she muttered, sending him all the files without hesitation.

Soon from the other end, Marcus’s voice came back, purring like a satisfied predator, "Perfect. I always knew you would deliver. You are a fucking masterpiece, Cassey— mean, ruthless, and too goddamn good at what you do."

Cassey’s heart swelled with twisted pleasure at his words, ’Damn right I am.’

"And what about the CCTV footage?" she asked coolly, crossing her legs and tapping her nails against the chair’s armrest.

Marcus gave a small, cocky laugh, "Leave it to me, sweetheart. I will take care of that,"

A wicked grin bloomed on her lips, "Fine," she purred, hanging up the call and tossing her phone aside without another thought.

Leaning back in the chair, she licked her lips slowly, tasting the victory on her tongue, ’God, this rush was better than sex.’

She stretched lazily, running a hand down her thigh, feeling the cool, smooth skin under her fingers, "Fantastic," she whispered to herself, her voice dripping with venom and delight.

"Hope I get a front-row seat when that little princess watches her whole deal go down the drain," she snickered, "Grandma will not forgive you."

Rising to her feet, she sauntered over to the mirror, admiring her reflection like she was admiring a priceless piece of art— her own creation.

She grabbed her perfume, spraying a slight, luxurious cloud over her neck and bare cleavage, letting it cling to her like a second skin.

She gave herself a final, lingering look.

"Now," she murmured, eyes gleaming, "let’s go see my darling."

With a slow, sinful smile curling her lips, she grabbed her purse and strutted out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius stood near the polished bar, a glass of whiskey cradled lazily in his hand. The dim lights gleamed off the glass and threw sharp shadows across his face.

Just then a hand slid onto his shoulder—light, deliberate. He turned slightly and found Cassey standing behind him.

Dressed to kill, a sly little smile curling her lips, perfume thick and heavy in the air between them.

"You’re here too?" Lucius asked, his voice casual, guarded.

"Yeah," she purred, moving closer, close enough that her scent wrapped around him, "Got an invite too, you know."

He took a slow sip from his glass, eyeing her over the rim, "So why so late?" he asked.

Cassey tilted her head slightly, flashing an innocent, "Couldn’t decide what to wear," she said, fake-sweet, "You know how it is."

His eyes flicked over her slowly— dragging from head to toe— taking it all in.

Cassey looked lethal tonight. She wore a blood-red dress so tight it looked painted on, hugging every curve of her body.

The neckline plunged deep, showing off the swell of her full breasts, practically spilling out with every breath she took.

The soft glow of the lights made her cleavage gleam, drawing eyes like a magnet. A slit ran high up her thigh, flashing smooth skin with every slow, dangerous step she took.

Diamond earrings dangled from her ears, sparkling whenever she moved, and her makeup— dark smokey eyes, blood-red lips— turned her into walking temptation.

Lucius’s mouth twitched for half a second. She was like a forbidden temptation for him. Something he wanted, but didn’t dare to touch.

Cassey’s voice dipped low, syrupy and seductive, "What’s wrong, Lucius?" she murmured, stepping closer, chest brushing lightly against him.

He took a step back, not wanting to fall into her charms, "Nothing," he muttered, yanking his wrist free and knocking back the last of his drink.

But Cassey wasn’t giving up.

She slid in again, smoother this time— her hand against his chest, trailing lazy circles over the fabric of his shirt, her breath teasing his ear.

"Why don’t we go upstairs?" She whispered, "This party’s over anyway. You and I... We can have some real fun."

She gave him a wicked little wink, flashing teeth in a sly grin.

For a second, Lucius almost gave in to her temptation. He wanted to pick her up, and take her back to his room, but he was quick to mask it.

He smirked, shook his head, and stepped back, brushing her hand off like it was dust on his jacket, "Not in the mood," he said flatly, and without another word, he turned and walked away.

He didn’t even look back, and Cassey stood frozen for a second, stunned.

Then fury boiled up like lava inside her. With a loud clack, she stamped her heels against the marble floor, fists clenching at her sides, trembling with rage.

"Fuck!" she spat under her breath, venom dripping from her voice.

"That bitch must have poisoned him against me," she snarled angrily, "I will fucking ruin her."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the party finally started to die down, Iris yawned, stretching until her bones cracked. Her whole body screamed for sleep.

Dragging herself toward her room, she kicked off her heels the second the door shut behind her and flopped onto the sofa with a loud, tired groan.

"Dead. I am literally dead," she muttered, rolling her neck side to side, trying to ease the tension.

After a minute, she forced herself up and shuffled to the cupboard for her nightwear. She pulled open the door— and frowned.

Something was wrong.

The clothes weren’t folded the way she always did. Some were slanted, a little too messy. Her brows frowned.

"What the hell..." She whispered, brushing her fingers over the fabrics.

Her eyes quickly darted across the room. The table. The laptop was still there, right where she had left it.

She exhaled sharply, trying to push the panic down. Maybe she was just being paranoid. Maybe she was just tired and didn’t remember right.

She forced herself into the shower, letting cold water shock her nerves awake. Changed into her nightwear. Tried to tell herself she was overthinking.

But when she curled up on the sofa and pulled the laptop onto her lap, a knot tightened in her gut.

’Just a quick check,’ she told herself. Just to be sure.

She opened the laptop.

Clicked through the folders.

And stopped cold.

Gone. Everything was gone. Every single file from the laptop was gone.

"What...?" Iris gasped, blinking hard. She clicked again. Faster. Desperately. Hidden folders. Backup drives. Shortcuts.

Nothing.

All the files were wiped clean.

Her whole body went stiff, "How... How the fuck is this even possible?" she choked out, standing so fast the laptop slid off her knees and thudded onto the sofa.

Her fists clenched so hard her nails dug into her palms.

"That’s why..." she whispered, piecing it together, "That’s why the cupboard felt off."

Her blood boiled. There was only one person she could think of. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

Her teeth bared in a snarl, "It better not be you," she spat.

Without thinking, she slammed the laptop shut, grabbed her phone, and bolted for the door. She didn’t even bother with slippers. Her bare feet slapped against the cold floor as she sprinted down the hall, heart hammering.

Straight for the elevator.

"I swear to God..." Iris hissed under her breath, her voice shaking with fury, "If it’s you... If you did this. I am not just going to end you. I will gonna fucking ruin you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the old temple, hidden deep in the valley’s mist, an old woman stood before the crumbling stone altar. The damp air clung to her worn shawl as faint candlelight flickered around her, barely pushing back the creeping shadows.

Beyond the circle of light, a figure with his back bent and his face hidden with a hood stood, hidden in the darkness.

"Is that place truly strong enough for the ritual?" the old woman rasped, her voice brittle like dried leaves.

The figure gave a slow nod, "It is ancient... soaked in the blood and breath of the old gods. Perfect ground for the ceremony."

The old woman’s gnarled hands tightened around her shawl, her knuckles whitening, "But we are still missing the heart of it," she said, almost spitting the words.

"You must find it," the figure answered, voice low and cold, "The one who carries the fragment."

The old woman’s eyes gleamed strangely in the candlelight, an eerie hunger flickering across her wrinkled face, "I will," she promised in a whisper that seemed to slither through the air, "The vessel will be found."

She bowed her head stiffly, the candles guttering as she moved. Without another word, she turned and vanished into the night, her silhouette swallowed by the swirling mist.

"We don’t have much time left..."

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Author’s Note:

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