Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Lux didn't smile.

Didn't smirk.

But his eyes flickered—something dark and pleased and very, very aware.

"As you wish," he said, voice like silk and secret deals.

Mira walked past him without another word, but she felt it—the weight of his gaze on her back. Like he was memorizing the way she moved. Not like prey. Not like a prize.

Like someone who had just placed a very large, very risky investment—and wasn't the least bit afraid to let it grow.

Lux stood still, swirling the last of his drink, eyes trained on the spot where Mira's silhouette disappeared around the corner. A servant silently followed after her, bowing to him once before gliding down the hall to guide her to one of the eastern guest rooms.

He heard the soft click of her heels fade into the corridor's hush. The servant's voice murmured something polite—likely the standard offer of emergency nightwear. His staff knew how to operate with velvet-smooth discretion. Silk robes, fluffy slippers, maybe something scented and feminine if she wanted it.

He didn't move.

Didn't sip.

Just thought.

'Interesting.'

Not the staying—he expected that much. Mira was many things, but cowardly wasn't one of them. No, what stood out was the way she asked. Like she wasn't seeking permission. Like she was staking a claim.

Lux could respect that.

He could also smell it.

A shift in her aura. A flicker in her pride. The scent of decision laced with uncertainty—sweet and sharp and a little thrilling.

A rustle of silk behind him. Familiar.

He didn't turn. "Let me guess…"

A glass clinked beside his, and a familiar, too-amused voice slid in like perfume across a velvet ledger.

"You were gonna ask if I talked to her?" Sira purred.

Lux finally glanced her way. Her hair was down now, loose waves cascading over one shoulder. She held a fresh glass of blood-red wine. Her smirk was smug and unapologetically pleased.

"She's a pride too," Sira said, watching the hallway where Mira had gone. "We need alliances. Sisterhood. Backup. The usual."

Lux raised an eyebrow. "Backup for what? Pillow fights and mascara emergencies?"

Sira rolled her eyes and sipped. "No, idiot. For bullying annoying mortals. Like that fox."

Her lip curled with visible disgust.

"Aelitha?"

"The audacity," she said, voice low and vicious. "Showing up in that discount perfume cloud, trying to pass off her desperate marketing as charm? Disgusting. I wanted to burn the couch after she sat on it."

Lux exhaled. "You're dramatic."

"She's dramatic," Sira shot back. "You're too good. That Fiera girl? Also too good."

"She slapped her," Lux said, remembering the moment. "In heels. In front of witnesses."

"Exactly," Sira scoffed. "Only once. Ugh. I was ready. I was waiting for the scream. The hair-pulling. The stiletto duel. But noooo. Just a dainty little slap and some crying."

Lux frowned. "You expected murder?"

"I expected entertainment. They're both fashion designers. Clothes are their identity. That was a full-on brand insult and she just walked away after one bitch slap?"

"This isn't the Infernal Realm."

"It should be," Sira said, swirling her wine like it personally offended her. "If this was back home? Someone would be missing a scalp."

Lux tilted his head. "You really think Mira would've joined in?"

"Not her. Yet." Sira grinned. "But she will. She's got pride. She's calculating. That girl's a slow-burn dagger. And Aelitha?" She clicked her tongue. "That vixen doesn't know how to let go."

Lux sighed and walked to the nearby credenza, setting his glass down. "Yeah," he muttered, adjusting his cuffs. "She'll show up again. I can feel it."

Sira leaned beside him, shoulder brushing his. "She likes you."

"Don't say it like it's a good thing."

She grinned wider. "It's funny. You walk around like you're so untouchable. Hell's CFO. Greed Incarnate. But the moment some desperate heiress bats her lashes and calls you 'sir'—"

"She was using me."

"She wanted to use you," Sira corrected. "Not the same thing."

Lux groaned softly and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why does it always come back to this?"

"Because you're hot," Sira said simply. "And rich. And mysterious. And emotionally unavailable. You're basically the wet dream of every bored heiress this side of the demon divide."

"Sounds like your type."

"Oh, it is," she said cheerfully. "That's why I already claimed you."

Lux side-eyed her. "Territorial much?"

"Obviously. But not jealous," she added. "Jealousy is for insecure girls and minor nobles. I just prefer to win."

He let out a quiet chuckle. "You think this is a competition?"

"Of course it is." She looked toward the hallway again. "And Mira just officially entered."

Lux didn't answer.

He knew she was right.

Mira wasn't the type to flirt. She didn't giggle or twirl her hair or seduce with skin. She played slow, precise games. Games that started with curiosity and ended with ownership.

And now?

She was under his roof. Unchaperoned. Choosing to stay.

He wasn't dumb. He knew what that meant.

Sira watched his face and smirked knowingly. "You're trying not to think about it."

"I'm not thinking anything."

"Liar."

He said nothing. Just adjusted his collar again, though it didn't need adjusting.

"You want her," Sira said.

"…Maybe."

"You'll have her."

"Maybe."

"But not tonight," Sira added, more softly. "You won't touch her until she asks."

Lux met her eyes. "Is that a problem?"

"No," she said, almost too quiet. "That's why we fall for you. You act expensive, although you are an incubus."

A pause.

Then Sira downed the last of her wine and stretched like a cat preparing to nap on top of your financial ruin.

"Anyway," she purred, walking off with a lazy sway of her hips. "I'm going to bed. If you hear screaming, I'm having another dream about you."

"I'll tell the staff to wear earplugs," he muttered.

She grinned over her shoulder. "Tell them to enjoy the audio."

Then she vanished down the hallway, bare feet silent against the marble, wine glass still in hand like a threat and a promise.

Lux was alone again.

But the night wasn't over.

Lux ran a hand through his hair. Just a second. Just to breathe as himself.

Then he composed again. Adjusted his cuffs. Straightened his spine. "I had a feeling I'd be walking into a lot of drama."