The Villainess With A Heroine Harem

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When Mrs. Porter first received her eldest son's call so early in the morning, she had expected the worst. After all, a small family like theirs getting involved with major politicians did come with some risks, and it had always been on the back of her mind that perhaps she should have just stayed away. And Jeoffery's panicked tone certainly didn't help.

She couldn't even bear listening to his words, and only heard George's name being mentioned before she cut off the call and drove all the way over to their not-so-secret apartment.

However, instead of facing any kind of emergency, what she found herself handling was just the aftermath of their drunk incident.

To say that she was pissed would be an understatement.

And to make matters worse, not only did her youngest son not apologize for wasting her time and emotion, he even insisted that it was all the fault of some ghost!

Mrs. Porter, who already felt disgusted by her son's behavior, felt even more disgusted when the scared boy kept trying to cling to her. "What the fuck are you talking about, George?! I swear if you keep spouting nonsense, I'll make you regret the day you were born!"

Although the boy had changed his soiled clothes, the terror in his heart hadn't been washed out at all. In fact, he couldn't even bear to be alone since that moment, and refused to leave his mother's side ever since she had arrived. "I swear I'm telling the truth, mom, big bro! Michelle came back as a ghost, and she even knocked big bro out! Tell her, bro! She almost killed me!"

Mrs. Porter frowned as she gave her older son a look, and as expected, he shook his head.

The spectacled boy sighed. "Don't be ridiculous, George. I just passed out from drinking too much, didn't I? You should probably sleep and let the alcohol flush out from your system so you can calm down too. This farce has gone on long enough. Stop talking crazy."

The boy clutched his head so hard that he actually managed to pull dozens of strands of bleached blond hair out. "I-I'm not drunk! I'm NOT! I'm not crazy either! You're crazy for not believing me!"

Mrs. Porter stomped her foot on the floor. "That's it, I've heard enough. From now on, no more alcohol for either of you, ever. To think that I almost thought someone was trying to kill you with how panicked you were… maybe it would have been better if I really found a murderer here!"

George couldn't help but cry as both of his family members kept blaming him when he was telling the truth. Why did no one believe him? "I really almost died!"

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Meanwhile, the White family was having a discussion of their own.

Of course, it had been Samantha who initiated the video call, as neither of the parents would ever reach out to the kids so early in the morning unless there was an emergency.

Having fully recharged her 'Emilium' reserves the night before, Samantha was certainly quite full of energy, and it didn't take her long to convince both the parents of the severity of the situation with Mr. Black and Mrs. Brown.

However, contrary to her and Emilia's expectations, Mrs. White didn't immediately agree to delay Noelle's transfer. Instead, she actually started explaining the truth behind the matter to convince them that what she was doing was, in fact, still the best solution.

Samantha didn't know that her family also owed so many 'political favors', especially to people like the Sullivans, who just seemed like shady characters in general.

Mrs. White sighed. "Honestly, I still don't know why you two insist on not being obedient for once. Just let the guy take the secretary position for a while, and I'll be able to spot out all his connections at once."

Samantha bit her lip. "B-But—"

Her mother didn't seem to hear her at all, however, and just continued. "Anyway, my side of the deal with Mrs. Sullivan is only to get him to that spot, not to let him stay there forever. And this way, I can also see what kind of movements they're trying to make. You understand, right?"

Although Samantha understood what her mother was thinking, she still felt that Emilia's words previously made more sense. "Mom, please, don't be so stubborn, we—"

Mrs. White rolled her eyes as she interrupted her daughter once again. "I'm the one being stubborn? Alright. Let me see which one of you has been very reasonable instead, then. Husband dear? Let's start with you first."

Mr. White made a pitiful-looking face on the screen. Hadn't he been obediently quiet throughout the conversation? Why were they bullying him again?

"You decided on my daughter's marriage even though I told you it was a bad idea, and now changed his mind just when I had decided to accept it? Are we still living in some primitive era where you have to go decide your daughter's marriage all by yourself? Please. Even if you don't consult me, have the decency to consult the girl you're planning to marry off!"

Samantha nodded. On this point, she very much agreed with her mother. Even though her father was now supporting her relationship with Emilia, it was true that he made a mistake trying to arrange her little sister's marriage before.

Mr. White kept his head down, not even daring to squeak.

Unfortunately, Mrs. White's next target was her daughter. "And you, Sam, how many of our resources have you been using to run personal errands? If I were to check, at least half of all our personnel in the city wouldn't be found doing anything productive at all, right?"

"Gyuck—?!"

Mrs. White chuckled. "What's that? Don't choke on your own tongue, dear. So, now do you believe either of you should be lecturing me about being unreasonable?"

Samantha looked a little abashed, but recalling Emilia's soft thighs and sweet lullaby, her motivation once again shot through the roof, startling her mother at how quickly she managed to fire herself back up. "We might have our own faults, but that doesn't mean we're also wrong on this matter. Mom, Emilia said—"

Mrs. White groaned. "Emilia? She's just a little girl, how could you—"

This time, it was Samantha who ended up interrupting her mother, filled with righteous indignation. "How can you say that about my sweet angel, mom?! It's not right. Do you know how sweet her voice is when she sings? Or how soft her lips are—"

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~ To be continued ~

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DustyDream:

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