Chapter 15: Harem God, $1M Mark
Jayden's eyes snapped open like he'd just been pulled from another world—and in a way, he had.
His breath was shallow at first, like his lungs were adjusting to something thicker than air. His skin prickled. Not from cold. Not from fear. From change. From something cosmic that had rewritten the rules of how people were meant to exist.
He sat up slowly.
And felt it.
It was in his posture. In the way his fingers moved like they were sculpted for touch. In the way his hair—longer now, textured in just the right way—framed his face without effort. His skin didn't glow, but it pulled light. Smooth, clear, the kind of complexion people spent fortunes trying to fake.
His body?
It wasn't just aesthetic anymore.
It was carved from temptation.
Jayden's face alone wasn't just handsome—it was the kind of beauty that didn't ask for attention; it demanded surrender. His jawline had that sculpted, model-perfect edge, but it wasn't harsh—it flowed into a neck that carried power without needing to flex. His cheekbones were sharp enough to imply danger, but not arrogance.
Balanced.
Deadly attractive.