Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 940

Chapter 940: The Cuckolding Gauntlet

"Y’all being dramatic."

"AM WE?" Reyna gestured at the cabin around us, presenting evidence in a murder trial. "You just turned a Delta flight into a fucking harem recruitment center without even trying. That woman up there?"

She pointed subtly at the trophy wife—subtle being relative, since Reyna’s "subtle" was still visible from space. "She’s been squeezing her thighs together for thirty minutes straight. Her husband thinks she needs to pee. She’s about to ask you to follow her to the bathroom, and you fucking know it."

She was right. I did know it. The woman kept glancing back, her expression a mixture of confusion and desperate need—like someone who’d just discovered she was starving and the only food available was forbidden, expensive, and currently shirtless two rows back.

"It’s the challenge," I tried to explain. "The thrill of—"

"Of ruining some poor bastard’s marriage while he’s literally sitting right there?" Reyna finished for me, eyes glittering with the kind of glee usually reserved for people watching someone else’s house burn down.

"Yeah, I got that. You’re like a serial killer, except instead of murder it’s cuckolding, and instead of feeling guilty you collect their wives like fucking Infinity Stones."

I couldn’t help but laugh at that image. "The Cuckolding Gauntlet. When I snap my fingers, half of all marriages disappear."

"And you’d fucking do it too!" Reyna was losing it again, voice cracking with laughter. "That’s the scary part! You’d absolutely Thanos-snap every inadequate husband out of existence if you could!"

Rory looked up from her coloring book, curious about what was so funny. "What’s Aunt Reyna laughing about?"

"Your daddy’s hobby," Reyna said sweetly, batting her lashes like she hadn’t just compared me to a genocidal space warlord.

"Reyna—" I warned.

"Collecting new aunts for you!" Reyna clarified quickly, shooting me an innocent smile that wouldn’t fool a blind nun.

Rory’s eyes lit up like someone had just told her Christmas was happening twice this year. "Really? More aunts?"

"So many aunts," Reyna confirmed, leaning in conspiratorially. "Your daddy sees a married woman and goes ’that’s a future aunt right there.’"

I glared at Reyna, who was absolutely shameless in her amusement, basking in it like a lizard on a hot rock.

Over the next hour, as I kept my abilities carefully suppressed and tried to ignore Reyna’s periodic giggle fits, which were starting to sound like she was choking on her own mirth, the women I’d accidentally influenced found increasingly transparent excuses to approach my seat.

One dropped her phone "accidentally" near my feet, bending down to retrieve it while slipping a business card into my hand with practiced subtlety. Her husband never looked up from his spreadsheet—probably too busy calculating how many more years he had to endure before retirement made him tolerable.

Another stopped to compliment Rory, who was coloring a Disney princess with intense concentration, and somehow her card ended up tucked into my jacket pocket during the interaction.

Her husband was asleep with noise-canceling headphones on, blissfully unaware his wife was shooting her shot with a teenager while he dreamed of quarterly earnings.

A third used the classic "I love your daughter, she’s so adorable" approach, kneeling down to Rory’s level to chat while discreetly passing me her contact information. Her husband was in the bathroom, probably washing his hands of the marriage he didn’t realize was already over.

"Oh my GOD," Reyna whispered, watching the whole operation with the fascination of a wildlife documentary narrator who’d just discovered a new species of apex predator. "They’re not even being subtle anymore. This is like watching nature. ’Here we see the sexually frustrated trophy wife in her natural habitat, approaching the apex predator with offerings of contact information and quiet desperation.’"

"Stop it," I muttered, pocketing the cards like they were parking tickets I’d deal with later.

"’Notice how the male doesn’t even notice his mate’s defection,’" Reyna continued in her best David Attenborough impression, voice dropping to a reverent hush. "’He remains focused on his laptop, completely unaware that his genetic lineage ends here, quietly, in first class, while a teenager collects his wife’s phone number like it’s a loyalty card stamp.’"

When the third woman walked away, Rory looked up at me with those big innocent eyes and giggled. "Godman, are you getting more aunts?"

Reyna exploded into fresh laughter, literally slapping the armrest like it had personally offended her.

I shot her a murderous look. "This is YOUR fault. Who taught her that?"

"’Gotta cuck ’em all!’" Reyna sang quietly, then lost it again, burying her face in her hands to muffle the sound.

Rory was delighted by the whole thing, bouncing in her seat with excitement. "I like having lots of aunts! They give me presents! Aunt Eziel bought me SO MANY things!"

Eziel, sitting across the aisle with Luna, looked up from her book with a guilty smile that said she knew exactly what she’d done and had zero regrets. "I may have... secured my position as favorite aunt through strategic gift deployment."

Rory was already listing the spoils of Eziel’s "investment": "She got me the new Barbie dreamhouse AND the car AND the horse stable AND the veterinary clinic AND—"

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