Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 943

Chapter 943: Before Paris - Celeste’s Triumph

I knew one thing for sure. Celeste’s art auction tonight was the last major event I was handling before disappearing to Paris for three months.

And fuck, just thinking about Paris made my blood pump with anticipation—the kind that starts in your chest and ends up somewhere lower, throbbing near between your legs like a promise you know you’re going to keep.

The possibilities. The thighs—sorry, things—I was going to do there. Things I could accomplish.

Paris was going to be three months of breaking modeling records, dominating the fashion industry, and absolutely destroying European marriages like a one-man cultural exchange program focused exclusively on exporting American audacity.

The timing was perfect too. While I was supposedly in ICU recovering from the "shooting" as Peter Carter, I’d actually be in Paris as Eros, living my best life corrupting the French elite—turning their champagne-soaked soirées into personal conquests that would make the Eiffel Tower look limp by comparison.

At first, I’d planned on going alone or maybe bringing a few of my women. Honestly, I hadn’t even made a solid plan.

For all I knew, they could gang up on me and demand to come along anyway—harem democracy has a way of turning into benevolent dictatorship when the votes are cast in lingerie.

But that scenario was unlikely now. Some like Madison, Sarah, Sofia, Emma had school while other like Priya had work. Surely, they were rich enough to skip work, but I do not think they will. There was also another issue.

That issue was simple: three of my women were pregnant with my children, and there was no fucking way I was going halfway across the world without them—leaving them to navigate morning sickness and mood swings while I played conqueror in the City of Lights? Not a chance.

Yes, ARIA would be here monitoring everything. Yes, the estate had security that could withstand a small army or a particularly determined Jehovah’s Witness. Yes, they’d technically be safe.

But no.

I couldn’t leave them behind. Wouldn’t leave them behind. They were carrying pieces of me, and abandoning that felt like cutting off my own arm just to wave goodbye... I was just so obsessed with being near them. I just didn’t show it... first time fathers, right?

So, I’d informed Linda, Patricia, and Margaret that they were coming with me to Paris. And you know what they said?

They’d been waiting for me to dare suggest leaving them behind so they could plan my funeral next morning after murdering me in bed after fucking me dry—with matching caskets and a eulogy that started with "He died as he lived: stupidly."

That’s how you escape death, my friends. Have a harem of pregnant women who will absolutely murder you if you try to abandon them during their first trimesters just to go to Pris to get more ten women or twenty to add to them after cucking husbands.

Pro tip: hormones make excellent accomplices.

Venessa and I had said no right away them watched Rory pout as her two favorite people denied her her fantasy.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked, her voice low enough that only I could hear over the ambient gallery noise.

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