The Realtor

The Renovation Project, Book Eight — Series Finale
by Isla Wilde

Pairing: MF+
Heat: 5/5 Inferno
Tropes: Age Gap, Blue Collar, Voyeurism, Mirror Play, Exhibition, Orchestration, Reverse Harem, Found Family, Series Finale

She thought she knew herself. He’s about to show her what she’s been missing in the mirror.

Callie Monroe has been loved by seven extraordinary men—Ford’s patience, Jax’s joy, Silas’s instinct, Dane’s command, Mac’s care, Ellis’s precision, and Tank’s protection. But Julian Ashworth is different. Elegant. Observant. A real estate developer who has spent his entire life watching beautiful things from a safe distance.

Julian doesn’t touch. He orchestrates. He appreciates. He catalogs perfection without ever risking the mess of actual connection—because fifty-eight years ago, he learned that beautiful things break when you get too close.

When he arrives to stage the Victorian for its official photoshoot, he discovers something unexpected: a woman who has learned to be seen by everyone except herself. As he teaches Callie to finally see what they all see—her own magnificent reflection—Julian finds his careful distance crumbling.

And Callie discovers that the man who taught her to love her own reflection might be the one who needs to step into the frame.

The series finale brings all eight men together as the mystery of Rose and Jack reaches its stunning conclusion—and Callie claims not just the house, but the impossible family that was always meant to be hers.

The Realtor is Book Eight and the Series Finale of The Renovation Project, a high-heat reverse harem romance series featuring voyeurism, mirror play, exhibition, orchestrated pleasure, all eight men together, the final mystery revelation, and a woman who finally claims everything she deserves. Contains explicit content intended for readers 18+. All activities are consensual between adults.

Content Notes

This book contains: explicit sexual content, significant age gap (35 years), voyeurism and exhibition, mirror play, orchestrated group scenes, all eight men with one woman, the complete mystery resolution, and the culmination of an eight-book reverse harem series.

Exclusive Bonus Scene

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Get an exclusive bonus scene from Julian’s POV that’s too steamy for Amazon — featuring his first moment of participation, what he sees when he finally steps into the frame, and the orchestration that brings all eight men together…

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Read Chapter One Free

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Chapter One: The Appraisal

The trucks arrived at seven in the morning.

I watched from the porch, coffee cooling in my hands, as a fleet of white vans pulled into my driveway like an invading army. Men in matching polo shirts emerged, carrying furniture, artwork, bolts of fabric, and what appeared to be an entire lighting rig. They moved with the precision of a well-rehearsed dance, each one knowing exactly where to go and what to bring.

Julian Ashworth stood at the center of it all, directing traffic with small gestures and quiet words.

I’d met him briefly at the end of Tank’s basement demolition—a silver-haired man in an impeccable suit who’d assessed my grandmother’s Victorian with the cool appreciation of someone who understood beautiful things. Ford had introduced him as the final piece of the puzzle: the man who would stage the house for its official photographs, who would help me present Rose’s legacy to the world.

What Ford hadn’t mentioned was the way Julian looked at me. Not with hunger, exactly—not the way Ford did, or Jax, or any of the others. But with something else. Curiosity. Assessment. Like I was a painting he was trying to understand.

“Miss Monroe.” He climbed the porch steps, and I noticed he moved like old money—unhurried, certain that everything would wait for him. “I trust you slept well?”

“I slept fine.” I gestured at the chaos unfolding on my lawn. “You didn’t mention you were bringing an army.”

“Staging isn’t decoration, Miss Monroe. It’s storytelling.” He turned to survey his crew with quiet satisfaction. “And your house has quite a story to tell.”

I followed his gaze to the Victorian—to the wraparound porch Ford had rebuilt, the gardens Silas had brought back to life, the windows that gleamed with Ellis’s careful repairs. Seven men had poured their skills into this house. Their hearts.

And now the eighth had arrived.

“Shall we begin?” Julian offered his arm with old-fashioned courtesy.

I took it.