Free Web NovelChapter 210: CH : 202 Marvin... You Truly Are A Demon
So Sofia Vergara is not in the Harem because she has a son from a previous marriage in 1991. Gisele Bundchen won’t be added because she is Leonardo DiCaprio’s Girlfriend and Leo would be essentially be Marvin’s Best friend, which is why he won’t pursue her even when she and Leo would break.
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For himself—Marvin took whatever small portions remained of the assembly. He leaned casually against the granite counter, eating entirely standing up. He possessed the ease of an apex predator who had fed his entire pack, satisfied by the sheer act of providing, regardless of the calories he consumed. And it’s not like they didn’t provide him with many wonderful emotions that fed his soul, more fulfilling than any meal could be.
The four girls sat down in the wooden chairs.
They stared at the steaming, customized plates placed directly in front of them.
A profound, stunned silence settled over the kitchen.
"Marvin." Beyoncé stared down at her perfect plate, refusing to pick up her fork just yet.
"Yes, B."
"How did you know?"
"Know exactly what?" He took a sip of his glass of milk.
"That I deeply wanted *this*." She gestured elegantly at the plate. "The soft eggs. The exact fruit I love. This is exactly what I would order at my favorite place in Houston." She stopped. Her brown eyes snapped up to meet his blue ones. Her trauma taught her that this level of attention to detail usually came with a terrifying price tag attached.
"I am an excellent guesser. I pay attention to the things that matter to me," he said softly, a faint smile touching his lips. "And somehow, when it comes to any of you... the answers just come naturally. Maybe that’s what happens when people start understanding each other a little too well."
His velvet voice wrapped itself gently around her insecurities, easing them before they could fully surface. "Or it could just be our souls connecting us."
Jessica looked up from her plate with the intense, wide-eyed expression of someone who had just taken one grand bite and needed a moment to recover her bearings.
"This is not a lucky guess, Marvin." Jessica shook her head. She took another bite. The roasted salsa tasted so flawlessly authentic it almost brought tears to her eyes. "This is... this is actually insane. You’re either a stalker who knows too much about our lives or just a witch."
"It’s just breakfast, Jessica." He kept his voice soft.
"It is *not just breakfast.*" Jessica pointed her fork at him with the passionate firmness of a woman drawing a distinction that mattered to her soul. "This is a psychological profile on a plate."
"Let’s just say that while I may not have the time to follow your every move, the connection of our hearts and souls reveals all the beautiful things about you." Marvin offered a wink, drawing a blush to her cheeks.
Lindsay had already eaten three large bites of her syrup-drenched pancake. She wore the glowing, teary-eyed expression of a little girl who had painfully needed this warm thing her entire life without even consciously knowing she needed it, finally receiving it in her own home. She was eating the love she had never received from Dina and Michael Lohan.
She looked at Marvin standing against the counter. She gazed at him with the raw openness of someone whose defensive emotional walls had just been bypassed directly through their stomach.
"These are, without a doubt, the best pancakes I have ever had in my entire life." Emotion thickened Lindsay’s voice.
"That’s a relatively low bar to clear, Linds." Dorothy cut into her protein-heavy eggs.
"Considering most of us have been forced to eat frozen, rubbery school cafeteria pancakes as our primary culinary reference point for the last decade."
"Oh, really? Including yours?" Lindsay challenged, waving her syrupy fork. Her traumatized edge softened in the warmth of the room.
"Yes, including mine." Dorothy chewed thoughtfully, her eyes wide with shock. "My homemade pancakes are better than the cafeteria’s trash. But *his* pancakes are vastly better than mine." She paused, swallowing.
"Much better. It’s actually highly annoying."
"Well." Beyoncé dabbed her lips with a napkin. Her sharp eyes locked onto the Wonder Boy leaning against the counter. "You hinted earlier that you wanted us to find out exactly *why* you woke up at five in the morning to make this breakfast for us. You said there was a point to the exercise. So? We’re listening, Shakespeare."
Every girl at the table instantly stopped chewing. They lowered their forks and looked directly up at him. The air in the kitchen grew thick with undivided concentration. They wanted to know the inner workings of his thoughts. freewёbnoνel.com
Marvin set his milk glass down on the granite counter with a soft *clink*.
He crossed his arms over his chest, his broad shoulders relaxed. He let the intoxicating aura of the Incubus slowly bleed into the sunlit room, wrapping around the four girls like a warm velvet blanket, targeting their individual insecurities. When he finally spoke, his voice hummed, deep and resonant, vibrating in their chests.
"I did not have to cook for you today," Marvin began softly, holding all four of their gazes simultaneously. "Just like I do not have to do anything for anyone in this world. I possess enough wealth and leverage to ensure I never have to lift a finger again. But I did it this morning... because I claim you."
The girls’ breath collectively hitched at the possessiveness of the word. "If you truly loved, respected, and deeply desired someone."
Marvin pushed off the counter and took a slow step toward the table. "Offering them your service and protection would be a complete no-brainer. You would think of them. You would think of their needs in a way that would make you *want* to do things that help them out."
He reached out and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind Jessica’s ear. She shivered.
"It could be something as seemingly small as silently lifting the dishes to wash them. Or cleaning up a mess they were too exhausted to handle. Or simply waking up in the dark to make them their perfect breakfast before they even open their eyes."
He stepped behind Beyoncé’s chair and rested his warm hands lightly on her shoulders. He felt her lean back into his touch instantly. The tension bled out of her spine as she surrendered to his unshakeable foundation.
"It is entirely about actively showing the women in your life profound appreciation that they simply exist in your world. It is about proving, through action, that I am willing to be burdened by you. To stand with you."
Marvin looked down at Lindsay and offered her a soft smile. He dismantled the transactional worldview her parents had built for her. "It’s a pretty simple concept. If you love someone, doing something as fundamentally simple as helping out with the dishes, or making a simple breakfast, goes a long way in establishing trust and love."
He began to slowly pace around the perimeter of the wooden table. His voice dropped into a hypnotic, romantic cadence that commanded their souls.
"You see, ladies, modern men are stupid. They think romance is a transaction. But true love... it is not about buying the expensive lemons, or buying the generic red flowers on Valentine’s Day, or begrudgingly doing the dishes when asked. It’s about the daily accumulation of *everything*."
He stopped, pressing his hands flat against the edge of the wooden table. He leaned in close so they could see the burning passion in his nebula-blue eyes.
"It is a really hard emotional concept to effectively explain to a foolish man if they don’t inherently, naturally *want* to do nice things for their partner. If a man sees providing for you as a chore, he is unworthy of your presence."
Marvin’s gaze swept over Jessica’s fiery eyes, Dorothy’s awestruck face, Beyoncé’s melting expression, and Lindsay’s tear-streaked cheeks.
"And last night," Marvin whispered. His voice grew thick with dark, suffocating emotion. "I willingly, happily took on the grand responsibility of making each and every one of you happier and safer than you ever were before you met me. I accepted your confessions. So, here I am. And looking at your beautiful, radiant smiles this morning as you eat... I completely see the point in doing it."
The kitchen fell into a stunning, paralyzed silence.
The four girls were shocked to their cores. They sat frozen in their wooden chairs, looking up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. Thick, hot moisture rapidly pooled in the corners of their eyes. Their hearts hammered a frantic, unified rhythm in their chests.
No teenage boy on earth possessed this kind of emotional vocabulary. No grown man they had ever met in Hollywood possessed this kind of devastating, terrifying understanding of the female heart, mind, and soul. He wasn’t just a prodigy; he was a master of the human heart.
Beyoncé was the very first to break the silence. A single, hot tear escaped her brown eyes and tracked slowly down her cheek. The transactional wall her father had built around her heart was crumbling into dust.
"Lord have mercy on us." Beyoncé’s voice shook with profound, overwhelming emotion. She reached out and grabbed his hand across the table, holding it in a vice grip. "Marvin... you truly are a demon. You are a beautiful, terrifying beast who understands the hidden hearts of women too much. And listening to you speak right now... I know exactly why I fell for you so hard, completely besides that impossible, handsome face and mind in that skull of yours."
Jessica wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and let out a wet, genuine laugh. Entirely unburdened by trauma but deeply moved by his power, she spoke. "Damn it, Marvin! You can’t just casually drop a romantic monologue like that on us before we’ve even finished our coffee! It’s completely unfair! You’re trying to make us all emotionally dependent on you!"
"I don’t have to try, Jessica." Marvin smirked softly, kissing her knuckles. "It is simply the natural order of things."
"I think I would follow you into an active warzone if you just promised to make me these eggs afterward," Dorothy admitted bluntly. She shook her head in awe, abandoning her usual tough-girl pride. "I’m entirely, hopelessly sold. I belong to the cult."
Lindsay didn’t even try to articulate a witty response. She pushed her chair back, launched herself out of her seat, and threw her arms tightly around Marvin’s waist. She buried her face in his chest and hugged him with every ounce of strength she possessed. It was the clinging hug of a parentified girl who had finally found her safe harbor in a storm, realizing she never had to earn her breakfast again.
What none of these women realized, as they hung on his every word, was that Marvin wasn’t merely a charismatic prodigy. He was a biological masterpiece. By the very nature of his Incubus physiology, he possessed an apex **Seduction Intuition**—a supernatural fluency in the neurological and emotional language of the female mind.
He didn’t just know when to speak and when to listen; he knew their psychology like a Stradivarius. He instinctively knew exactly which questions would bypass their mental defenses without triggering alarm. He knew how to weaponize the lightest, most casual answers, modulating the pitch and resonance of his voice to spike their heart rates and emotions. It was an almost hypnotic cadence, a perfectly calibrated push-and-pull that left them breathless, disarmed, and desperately craving his validation.
This wasn’t a learned charisma or good looks. It was an evolutionary mandate, etched into his astral DNA just as deeply as a predator’s instinct to hunt or its mating rituals.
A lesser creature—a crude Lust Demon—operates on brute compulsion and base physical urge. But an Incubus is a higher-tier entity, an architect of that.
The **Mother Abyss**—the primordial, cosmic womb of the demonic hierarchy—understood a fundamental truth about humanity: a flawless, impossibly handsome face might secure a night of passion, but only a flawless *connection* could forge eternal worshippers.
To captivate females, conversations serve as a paramount element; possessing aesthetic appeal may facilitate casual encounters, yet it does not guarantee the attainment of lovers.
To ensure the supremacy of her lineage, the Abyss had harvested eons of collective demonic intelligence regarding human psychology, distilling it and weaving it directly into the soul of every Incubus during their metamorphosis especially for females.
Marvin suspected his conversational dominance was amplified by the instinctive *Empathic Perception*. Without consciously trying, his senses mapped their emotional landscapes in real-time. He could read the micro-fluctuations in their auras, the subtle shifts in their pheromones, psionic, and the microscopic dilations of their pupils. This allowed his mind to instantly calculate and mirror their deepest, unspoken desires, morphing his persona into whatever archetype they secretly hungered for the most.
The most terrifying aspect of this psychological subjugation?
It was entirely instinctive and fully passive. Marvin hadn’t cast a single spell. He hadn’t unleashed even a fraction of his mana to influence their minds. He was merely existing.
This terrifying level of emotional dominance—this ability to make global icons and guarded socialites melt into puddles of devotion over a phone line—was simply the result of an Incubus having a lovely conversation.
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