Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

She could feel it—like a sudden dip in stock value right before a company gets delisted. Lux's attention, once casually cordial, now aligned itself with three terrifyingly efficient forces of nature: Naomi, Rava, and Mira.

They didn't even sit down like guests.

They sat down like they'd bought the table.

Lux adjusted the cuff of his shirt, watching them settle. "Everyone comfortable?" he asked, voice smooth as aged soulwine.

"Very," Naomi said with a smile that could close deals.

Rava curled a tentacle subtly around her wine glass. "This place is… intimate."

Mira smirked, resting her chin on one hand. "Cosy. Almost like someone designed it to make women lose their composure."

"I plead the fifth," Lux said, grinning.

Aelitha forced a laugh. "Well, I suppose the credit goes to your decorator?"

Lux gave her a polite nod. "Lyra handled the details. I just wrote the checks."

"You write very powerful checks," Sira murmured, fingers lazily trailing the rim of her glass.

"And yet," Rava added, "he knows when to hold the pen back."

Lux chuckled softly. "Risk management."

The food arrived on golden trays—steaming, fragrant, absurdly luxurious.

Aelitha picked up her fork, trying to reinsert herself into the conversation. "This presentation is lovely. Very… editorial."

Mira blinked at her, then reached casually for her own plate. "Ah, yes. Just like those editorials where everyone pretends your swimsuit line isn't ripping off your cousin's last summer campaign."

Ely choked on her wine.

"Ahem—Mira…" Ely whispered, elbowing her.

"What?" Mira said sweetly. "I'm just complimenting her. It takes real courage to wear knockoffs of your own blood."

Aelitha froze. "I design original pieces."

"Of course," Sira said with a wide smile. "We love originality. That's why Lux wears Fiera's line. The real one."

Aelitha's hand clenched around her crystal flute.

Lux reached for his glass and leaned subtly toward Lyra, his lips barely moving behind the rim. His tone was as smooth as a liquidity transfer, all calm power and quiet intent.

"Tell Fenrir. Another Ninevyn is incoming," he murmured. "Escort her in quietly. No drama. We're in the middle of… asset reallocation."

Lyra, who had been standing just behind him with her silver tray like a polite specter of upper-class efficiency, arched a single brow.

"You want me to kick her out?" she asked, her voice cool, low, and a little too hopeful. "Because I can do it. Thoroughly."

Lux smirked, eyes never leaving the soft-lit dinner table where Sira, Naomi, Rava, Ely, and Mira were engaging in overlapping micro-aggressions like it was a structured corporate bloodbath.

"I feel like doing that," he said with a sigh, "but Fiera said she's coming. So… not yet. Let her handle this."

Lyra's smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Understood, sir."

Then she was gone—like a well-diversified hedge fund dissolving into mist, no ripples, no noise, just a soft scent of lavender, velvet, and quiet menace in her wake.

Dinner proceeded.

Lux led the conversation like a seasoned investor moderating a boardroom—light, charming, but with every comment precisely placed. Sira baited, Rava prodded, Naomi redirected. Every question Aelitha asked? Repackaged and sold back to her with a 300% sarcasm markup.

"I'd love a picture with you, Lux," Aelitha said suddenly, seizing the lull in conversation. "To commemorate such a lovely night."

Lux gave a gracious nod. "Of course."

Aelitha stood and walked behind him, camera already in hand. But as soon as she lifted it—three forces moved in sync.

Naomi leaned in from the right. "Smile~"

Rava slid in from the left, tentacle lifting her wine glass. "Say 'hostile merger'~"

And Mira draped herself over the back of Lux's chair, resting one arm on his shoulder. "Don't be shy. This is a private equity moment."

-Click!

Aelitha blinked.

That photo?

All three women. One man. Zero space for her.

She hadn't even hit the shutter.

"Oh, sorry," Naomi said innocently, "Did we photobomb?"

Rava smirked. "Oops."

Mira grinned. "Force of habit. We're very… territorial."

Aelitha lowered her phone. "I just thought… you know. A picture with the host."

Lux sipped his wine and smiled. "Of course. But unfortunately, I'm a high-volatility asset. Very sensitive to exposure."

Sira, casually slicing her steak, added, "And some people think following you around with a camera will boost their social stock. Silly, really."

Ely buried her face in her napkin.

Aelitha tried to keep smiling. "I'm just a fan. Of his work. And presence."

"Oh, he has plenty of… presence," Sira said, eyes glowing with subtle amusement. "You should see it when he negotiates in his bathrobe."

Rava hummed. "Or not in it."

Lux cleared his throat. "Let's keep it PG."

Naomi gave him a sideways glance. "Since when?"

Lux raised a hand, exasperated but amused. "PG-13, then."

They all laughed.

Except Aelitha.

She was recalculating her entire evening. Every dress choice. Every word said. She came expecting a lonely, charming CFO at a lonely housewarming dinner.

She found a fortress with three dragons guarding the vault.

Worse, one of the dragons—Mira—wasn't even pretending to play nice anymore.

"I heard your Spring line didn't launch on time," Mira said idly, twirling her fork. "Supply chain issues? Or just no demand?"

Aelitha flinched. "That's not public information."

"I'm heir to a guild of eastern dragons," Mira said sweetly. "There's no such thing as 'not public.'"

Ely cringed. "Okay… Can we please not turn dinner into a cross-examination?"

Lux gently placed his hand on the table. "It's alright."

He smiled at Aelitha.

But his eyes?

Cold as a credit freeze.

"Though," he added, "I am curious why someone would impersonate an invite from Fiera Ninevyn. That's… financial fraud, isn't it?"

Aelitha's face paled just enough.

"I just wanted to meet you," Aelitha muttered, voice small—almost fragile. Her lashes fluttered like a wind-chime caught in a breeze. She tucked a lock of her shimmering auburn hair behind her ear with the kind of practiced awkwardness that only came from rehearsing in front of a mirror. Twice.

"I… I love you, Lux."

She looked up at him through doe eyes, blinking as if overwhelmed by her own confession. Her voice was breathy, like a girl confessing her feelings at prom. She even shifted her posture, turning slightly so the candlelight hit her cheek just right—softening the curve of her face, adding a hint of trembling innocence.

It was… impressive. Almost believable. Almost.

Lux, still holding his wine glass like a loaded stock option, tilted his head and smiled.

"I love me too," he said with a warm, magnanimous nod—like he was accepting an award on behalf of himself, from himself.

Aelitha blinked. Once. Twice.