Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

The time was almost 8 PM.

Outside, the mortal world was humming with twilight—cars crawling under street lamps, city lights blinking into life, the buzz of nightlife kicking in. But inside Lux's mansion? It was already alive.

The scent of garlic-brushed finger food and honeyed wine drifted from the dining hall. Velvet-draped tables bore trays of gold-rimmed glasses and snacks that shimmered faintly under the lights. Infernal servants had moved like silent shadows the past two hours, transforming the mansion into something elegant—but approachable. Smooth lighting. Soft infernal runes hidden just beneath the floor. Enough warmth to feel like a home, but opulent enough to remind mortals who the host was.

Upstairs, Lux stood in front of his mirror.

Still slightly damp from his bath, he buttoned the last two buttons of his shirt. Charcoal gray with faint gold thread at the cuffs. Black undershirt. Sleeves rolled just enough to show confidence without arrogance. His collar open—just enough skin to be casual, not enough to scream 'please seduce me.'

The outfit was modern, sleek. Sira's pick.

He looked at himself.

"…I look like a rich bastard who owns a chain of nightclubs and is proud of it," he muttered.

A beat.

"I mean… I'm not a playboy. I only sleep with three women. That's… that's minimum." He shrugged into his jacket and adjusted his watch. "Okay, maybe I flirt a lot."

He tilted his head. Eyed his own reflection critically. Then gave himself a slow smirk.

"Oh well. At least I look fabulous."

His room was still a mess. Sheets halfway off the bed. Pillows—somehow—on the windowsill. The scent of sex hung faintly in the air, masked poorly by incense and bath oils. One of his cuffs was hanging from a lamp.

Yeah. They hadn't exactly behaved earlier.

He opened the door, and a servant immediately bowed. "Sir, shall we clean your room?"

Lux nodded. "Go ahead. Don't touch the watch drawer. Or the snack cabinet."

"Of course, sir."

He stepped out into the hallway, strolling leisurely, letting the familiar weight of his mansion settle on his shoulders again. There was something deeply satisfying about walking through a space that belonged to him. Every rug. Every statue. Every ridiculous chandelier.

And as he passed a certain hallway, he stopped.

There it was.

That wall.

The one that used to hold that painting. The fake one.

Lux had hated it.

Without a word, he reached into the air and opened his dimension storage—ether rippling like gold-threaded water. He reached in and pulled out a different frame. Black-gold trim. Matte canvas. The image inside? Towering. Cold. Familiar.

It was Greed Tower.

Infernal Nexus, Sector 7. His home. His office.

The headquarters of Hell's economic sector—looming, powerful, intimidating. It made mortal skyscrapers look like Legos.

He stared at it for a moment. Smiled.

"Perfect."

He gestured to a servant. "Put it here."

The servant nodded and mounted it silently. When it was done, Lux stepped back and gave a single approving nod.

Then he kept walking.

He passed the lounges, the main hall, and checked the drink stations—all seemed good. Everything was set.

And then…

He heard them.

Footsteps.

Soft. Deliberate. Familiar.

He turned.

Naomi was descending the stairs.

And for a second—Lux forgot he was hosting a party at all.

She was wearing a flowing navy cocktail dress, split high on the thigh but still modest at the shoulders. Platinum hair curled down her back in soft, expensive waves. Her lips glossed, skin glowing, eyes lined just enough to be deadly.

She wasn't trying too hard.

But she was dangerous anyway.

Yeah, casual but not really casual.

'Holy hell,' he thought. 'I should cancel this party. Right now. Drag her back upstairs. No one would miss me.'

[Your incubus pheromones have risen by 12%.]

'Nope, nope. Not now. Damn it! Turn it off!' Lux groaned internally.

[...That's your libido, sir.]

'Yup. That's the problem.'

He adjusted his expression just in time and stepped forward, extending a hand.

"Naomi," he said, voice low and smooth, "you look beautiful tonight."

She smiled, a little shy, a little proud. "I put extra effort into it."

He took her hand, leaned forward, and kissed the back like a proper gentleman. "It shows."

"I usually have my hairstylist and makeup team do everything," she admitted. "But today…"

Lux raised an eyebrow. "Wait. Say no more. Are you telling me you girls need someone who does your makeup and clothes and hair every time you go out?"

Naomi blushed slightly. "Not always, but—"

Lux waved a hand. "Done. I'll summon someone for you. Or a few. I have more servants than I know what to do with."

Naomi blinked. "How many?"

He smiled. "Thousands."

She gawked. "Thousands?!"

"Some are on retainer. Some… sold their souls to me."

She gasped.

But Lux gave her a gentle smile and squeezed her hand. "Don't worry. I'm good to all of them."

"Does that mean…" Naomi glanced around. "Lyra? The others?"

Lux nodded. "Yes. They—or their families—owed me. Money. Protection. Or something more ancient. In return, they serve me. And I take care of them."

He stepped closer. Reached up and tucked a stray strand of platinum hair behind her ear, his fingers grazing her skin just slightly too long.

"You afraid now?" he murmured.

Naomi hesitated.

Then, softly, "A little."

"I don't bite unless asked."

Naomi gave him a look. "You bit me last night."

He grinned. "You liked it."

She flushed. "That's not the point."

He chuckled and stepped back just enough to keep things safe—for now.

"I used to think being Hell's CFO was just about managing the infernal economy—balancing supply and demand. Like a mortal-world CFO, just with more fire and blood. But your version?" She tilted her head. "It's not just finance. It's a monarchy."

"Similar," Lux admitted. "But darker. More hands-on. More… personal."

She looked around the room—at the grandeur, the servants, the way everything shimmered under his influence. "You really do run this place like a king."

Lux looked at her. Then whispered, "No, Naomi. This is just a vacation home."

Her breath caught.

He leaned closer again, voice lower.

"Wait until you see my real one."