Evil MC's NTR Harem

Chapter 936: Chapter 936 Scroll

The crumpled note, lying innocuously among the other scraps, seemed to call to Nina.

Curiosity gnawed at her, and with it, an undeniable, fluttering desire.

She could feel her pulse thundering in her chest, her body reacting despite every warning she tried to give herself.

She bit her lip, hesitated, and looked around to make sure no one was watching.

Ten breaths passed as she wrestled with herself.

Each inhale felt heavier, charged with tension, while every exhale seemed to pull her closer to temptation.

Should she leave it? Should she ignore it like a responsible, rational girl?

Or should she give in to the curiosity—and something darker, more forbidden—that Ross had awakened in her?

Finally, heart pounding, she reached into the trash.

Her fingers brushed against the crumpled paper.

She pulled it out, smoothing it in her hands, and felt a thrill of illicit excitement.

Carefully, she folded it again and slipped it into her pocket.

It pressed against her thigh, a secret warmth that made her cheeks hot.

As she walked out of the washroom, her steps slow and measured, Nina could feel the weight of the note like a pulse against her leg.

Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts: desire, fear, guilt, curiosity, and the unspoken knowledge that Carrie had no idea what Ross had done—or what kind of effect he could have on another girl.

She tried to scold herself, to tell herself it was wrong, that she shouldn’t even think about it.

But deep down, she knew she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

The encounter had changed something in her.

Ross had planted not just a note, but an idea—a possibility—and Nina, whether she wanted to admit it or not, was already tangled in it.

With every step away from the washroom, she felt both guilty and exhilarated, knowing that her quiet rebellion—the small act of keeping the number—was the first thread of a dangerous game she wasn’t sure she wanted to resist.

***

The game resumed, but Zack’s team never found their footing again.

The momentum had shifted against them, and no matter how hard he pushed himself, his passes were sloppy, his reactions a second too slow, and his shots lacked precision.

The final whistle blew with the scoreboard glaring 25–15, sealing their defeat.

Zack stood on the court, his chest heaving, sweat dripping down his temples, but his mind was far from the game.

He barely even heard the groans of his teammates or the disappointed shake of his coach’s head.

His thoughts kept drifting, unbidden, to the stands.

There, in full view of everyone, Carrie sat with her boyfriend.

They weren’t trying to hide, not even a little.

She laughed freely, her face glowing, her hand brushing against his arm with casual intimacy.

He leaned close to whisper something in her ear, and she swatted him playfully, her smile brighter than Zack had ever seen.

The crowd might as well have disappeared—Carrie only had eyes for him.

Each moment was like a knife to Zack’s chest.

He clenched his jaw, his fists tightening at his sides, furious at the scene, furious at himself for being unable to block it out.

Why did it still matter this much? Why couldn’t he look away?

She wasn’t his—she hadn’t been for a long time.

And yet, the sight of Carrie being so sweet, so unguarded, with another man tore at him more than he wanted to admit.

He told himself he didn’t care. He told himself he was above this.

But the more he repeated the lie, the louder the truth screamed in his head: Carrie had moved on, and he was still standing in place.

What Zack didn’t realize, however, was that this loss was only the beginning.

Today hadn’t just taken the game from him.

He was already losing more than he could see—something far greater than Carrie, someone who had stood by his side far more important than she ever had.

Before long, Zack would discover that the person he had taken for granted, the one truly important to him, was slipping away too.

And when he did, it would hurt far worse than losing a game... or Carrie.

***

Nina came home bothered, her chest tight with a pressure she couldn’t explain.

She shut the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment, her breath shaky, her body heavy.

No matter how hard she tried to shake the memory away, the images from the washroom came rushing back in vivid flashes—the sounds, the movements, the sheer rawness of it all.

She stripped off her clothes piece by piece, leaving them scattered across the floor, and walked straight into the bathroom.

The shower roared to life, steam curling around her as she stepped in.

Hot water streamed down her bare skin, but instead of cooling her thoughts, it fueled them.

Each drop reminded her of Ross’s sweat, of Carrie’s flushed face, of the obscene size of him glistening under the dim light.

Nina pressed her palms against the tiles, bowing her head as the memories spiraled.

She told herself to stop, to think of anything else, but the harder she fought, the clearer everything became.

Carrie’s moans echoed in her ears. The way Ross had looked toward her—right at her—sent a shiver racing down her spine.

An hour passed before she finally stepped out, her legs shaky, her body unsatisfied.

She dried herself, slipped into a loose shirt and shorts, and crawled onto her bed, hoping exhaustion would finally give her some peace.

But peace never came.

Instead, her mind betrayed her again.

She saw Carrie bent over, gripping the stall wall, her voice breaking with pleasure.

She saw Ross behind her, merciless, unrelenting, his cock so impossibly huge it barely seemed real.

And worst of all, she saw herself—not as a bystander—but as the one in Carrie’s place.

Nina whimpered, covering her face with one hand as the other slid south, almost against her will.

Her fingers found her clit, slick already, and a moan slipped past her lips before she could stop it.