My Taboo Harem!

"So why are you dragging me along again?"

Elena’s complaint floated through the private elevator as she leaned against one mirrored wall, phone resting loosely in her hand and the full weight of an inconvenienced daughter pressed into every syllable.

Across from her, the Ashford Madam merely smiled.

The elevator descended through Infinity Chaos Hotel with its usual insulting smoothness, gold numbers changing silently above the doors while soft light glided over polished black walls. It was the sort of elevator that probably cost more than several apartment buildings and still had the audacity to make standing around in silence feel like an exclusive service.

"I told you," the Goddess said. "I wanted to spend some quality time with my daughter. Is there something wrong with that?"

Elena looked up from her phone.

"You dragged me into an elevator before telling me where we were going."

"I knew you would complain if I told you first."

"I’m complaining now."

"Yes, but now the doors are locked."

Elena stared at her.

The Goddess’s smile widened with the quiet satisfaction of a mother who had defeated consent using architecture; there was something almost erotic about the power of it—trapping her own blood behind gold-plated doors like a particularly elegant form of house arrest.

"Play along for this old woman’s sake," she added.

"Old woman?"

Elena straightened from the wall and looked her mother up and down with open disbelief.

"Please. You look barely younger than I am mom, and somehow you still expect me to respect this elderly-victim performance."

The Goddess chuckled and reached out, running her fingers affectionately through Elena’s long black hair, Elena endured it for three seconds before tilting her head away.

"I would play along if we were doing something fun," she said. "Shopping. Drinking. Ruining someone’s confidence. Normal mother-daughter activities."

"Your standards for normal concern me."

"You raised me."

"A devastating counterargument."

"But no," Elena continued. "You’re dragging me along to meet one of your employees. Where exactly is the fun in watching you discuss work while I sit there developing wrinkles from boredom?"

"Hey."

The Goddess gave her hair a small tug.

Elena looked at her.

"Courtney is not my employee."

"Mm."

"She is an acquaintance."

"Mm."

"A friend, actually."

"Of course."

"And this is good for you too. You may learn a thing or two."

Elena nodded with exaggerated seriousness.

"Yes, Mother. I am sure I will learn a great deal about the sacred art of handing over bonus cheques."

The Goddess’s smile froze, her eyes flicked toward the expensive leather purse hanging from her arm.

Elena followed the glance and laughed as her mother moved quickly, opening the purse just enough to shove the corner of a cheque book deeper inside before snapping it closed with all the subtlety of a thief hiding silverware beneath a dinner table. The motion was almost endearing in its pathetic urgency—like watching a goddess try to conceal the evidence of her own soft-hearted weakness.

Elena’s eyebrows rose.

"That is not..." The Goddess cleared her throat. "That is not why I am going there."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Then why did the cheque book just attempt to flee the conversation?"

"It did no such thing."

"Mom."

"Elena."

"You’re blushing."

"I am not."

"You are."

The Goddess turned her face slightly away, which only made the faint warmth on her cheeks easier to see. Elena sighed with the long-suffering patience of a daughter forced to supervise the dignity of an allegedly ancient woman.

"Please keep the blushing for Phei. You’re my mother. Beautiful as you are, it stops being cute when I have to witness it."

"You!"

The Goddess caught Elena by the arm and pulled her closer before she could escape, trapping her beneath one arm and attacking the top of her head with several indignant kisses.

Elena laughed despite herself, struggling halfheartedly while her phone nearly slipped from her fingers. "Mother, stop!"

"You have grown far too bold."

"You encouraged confidence."

"I encouraged elegance."

"You received sarcasm. Manufacturing defect."

The Goddess finally released her, though her hand remained around Elena’s arm as the elevator continued downward.

Elena smoothed her hair with theatrical irritation.

Then she asked, far too casually, "So you are no longer feeling threatened?"

The Goddess’s fingers paused: "Threatened by what?"

"Courtney."

Silence.

The elevator continued descending, Elena glanced sideways, pretending to inspect her nails.

"Or is it only because Phei is not tagging along today, so you don’t have to worry about becoming jealous again?"

The Goddess’s face burned.

Not warmed.

Burned; the betrayal was immediate and absolute.

She stared at Elena, who continued studying her nails with the innocence of someone whose halo had been found at a crime scene. Somewhere in the depths of the Goddess’s mind, a very old, very possessive creature stirred—the same one that had once considered gutting lesser women for far less.

"So all of you knew?" the Goddess asked.

Elena’s mouth twitched.

"Knew what?"

"That I..."

The Goddess stopped.

There was no safe way to finish that sentence.

That she had been jealous of Courtney?

That she had watched the woman speak to Phei and felt some ugly little creature inside her bare its teeth?

That she, the Ashford Madam, the Goddess, a woman feared across families and private boardrooms, had briefly regarded Courtney’s harmless smile like an assassination attempt conducted through good manners?

Fuck.

Elena finally looked at her.

"Mother, you were not subtle."

"I am perfectly capable of being subtle."

"Right, that’s why you stared at her for six uninterrupted minutes the whole time."

"I was evaluating her."

"You asked me latter whether her blouse was ’always cut that low, lets not insult each other, mother.’"

"It was a reasonable question."

"You then asked me whether Phei normally smiled at older women like that."

"That was unrelated."

"Okay, when Courtney touched his arm during the shoot why were you gripping my hand."

"It was feeling weak from all the standing."

Elena lost the fight and laughed the sound of her soft laugh bounced off the mirrored walls like a small, delighted knife.

The Goddess stared toward the elevator doors, deciding that abandoning her daughter on the twentieth floor might qualify as necessary character development. Perhaps a brief free-fall would teach the girl some respect.

’Or at least rearrange her priorities.’

The bell chimed.

The doors opened... she was saved by expensive machinery.

The Goddess stepped out first with what remained of her dignity, while Elena followed wearing the unbearable little smile of someone who had obtained material for future blackmail, she looked like a prosecutor who had just discovered the defendant kept a secret diary and was already drafting the opening statement.

The twentieth floor was a bit crowded than the levels above, but some suites were separately arranged around a broad private corridor lined with cream walls, dark wood and tall windows overlooking Hell’s Paradise Island. Sunlight poured through the glass, catching the distant blue-black curve of the river and the deeper green of the forests beyond.

They stopped before a specific suite.

The Goddess rang the bell, then knocked once when no immediate answer came.

Several seconds passed before a lock clicked; the door opened and a woman stood on the other side.

"Madam." She greeted the Goddess first, then turned to Elena.

"Good morning."

"Good morning," the Goddess replied.

Elena offered a polite smile. It was the polite smile of someone already calculating how much damage she could do with a single well-timed observation.

The woman stepped aside slightly.

"Is Courtney inside?" the Goddess asked.

"Yes. She is just coming out of the bedroom."

The woman gestured for them to enter.

The living room beyond was impressive without attempting to compete with the absurdity of the upper floors. Everything was clean, bright and carefully arranged, with soft cream furniture, warm wood, flowering plants near the windows and enough sunlight to make the place feel genuinely lived in.