The Bestselling Author's Reverse Harem In The Beast World

Death of a Bestselling Author

One

In a high-end apartment at 999 Starlet Avenue in the West End District, New York, a messy young woman sat completely absorbed in drafting the next chapter of her novel. Beside her, a cute orange tabby cat was equally focused on its own business-happily munching on its favorite dried fish.

For five uninterrupted hours, human and feline had existed in peaceful productivity. Then, a sharp ding from her phone shattered the silence. Both girl and cat flashed an identical look of mild annoyance at the sudden interruption.

Glancing at her screen, her eyes caught the sender ID: My Prince Eric.

"Oh, it's my Eric," she mumbled, a smile instantly replacing her scowl. "Is he preparing a surprise for me? I'm actually a little excited, hehe."

She tapped the notification.

[888 Starlet Avenue, Suite 304, North End District, New York, NY 10001]

"What? A hotel?" Her heart did a quick flip. "Oh no! Is he going to propose? What should I do? Am I even ready? Well, we've been together for eight years, so maybe it really is time for us to get engaged."

Her head spun with anticipation.

To anyone else, Elena Miller seemed like a typical twenty-five-year-old. She was the only child of a middle-class family with a modest business. But beneath that ordinary surface, she was a wildly successful author-exceptionally sharp, athletic, and trained in martial arts and fencing. Unlike the stereotype of a quiet, homebody writer, Elena was a dynamic powerhouse with an unconventional process: her brain only operated at peak performance after intense physical exertion. The harder her energy sparked during sports, the faster her imagination raced.

That unique vitality bled into her storytelling, making her one of the most sought-after authors in the entertainment industry. Major production studios routinely fought over the rights to her work. At twenty-five, she truly believed she had it all-a flourishing career, tight-knit high school friends, a loyal childhood sweetheart named Eric Anderson, and her beloved tabby cat. Her life felt smoother than anyone else's.

After wrapping up her writing session, Elena rushed to shower and transform herself. She sang continuously in the bathroom, completely ignoring her cat's irritated glares.

"Oh yeah! Look at that beauty in the mirror," she praised herself, admiring her reflection. "Simply stunning."

Thirty minutes later, she parked her car outside the Grand Starlet Hotel, floating on cloud nine. She had no idea that inside Suite 304, a very different kind of celebration was already underway. While Elena drove over with high expectations, Eric was intimately occupied with Vanessa Bryant, Elena's long-time academic and personal rival.

Stepping into the lobby, a sleek receptionist immediately approached her. "Excuse me, ma'am. Here is your room card for Suite 304 on the third floor."

Elena took the key card, assuming Eric had arranged everything in advance. Yet, as the elevator doors slid shut, an unexplainable feeling tightened in her stomach. She brushed it off as mere pre-proposal jitters.

Reaching Suite 304, she quietly unlocked the door. The suite was pitch black.

Why is it so dark? she thought, smiling softly in the shadows. He's really going all out with the atmosphere-such—such a sweet guy.

She reached for the light switch, but a sudden, familiar voice froze her hand mid-air.

"Babe, when are you finally going to kick that bitch to the curb?" a woman complained from inside the room. "It's been eight years, Eric! I can't keep waiting like this!"