Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

"Ugh." She rolled out of bed dramatically, nearly falling off the edge. "Fine. I'll shower. But only because my brand is watching."

"And your clients," Lux added, stepping back with a smirk. "And your dignity. What's left of it."

Fiera shot him a one-fingered salute as she shuffled toward the bathroom, hair a tangled mess and tails dragging behind her like it too had a hangover.

Lux chuckled under his breath and turned on his heel. "Just head down when you're done," he called over his shoulder. "The others already finished breakfast. The hairdresser and makeup artist are waiting downstairs."

Fiera mumbled something incoherent and shut the door behind her.

He strolled back down the hallway, the morning light pouring through the mansion's tall arched windows, bouncing off the polished black floors and gold-inlaid banisters. His shoes tapped softly against marble. Outside, the world was waking up.

Inside?

Hell had already clocked in.

The dining room buzzed with soft voices. As he entered, his gaze immediately landed on the girls.

And he stopped.

Mira and Rava were frozen.

Mira's toast hovered between her lips like she'd forgotten how hands worked. Rava's juice glass was stuck to her lips, but no sip was taken.

Because they were both staring at Naomi.

Sira was leaning back in her seat, sipping lazily from her cup with a look that was pure smugness incarnate. The "I told you so" was practically glowing from her aura.

Naomi?

Naomi turned to face him just as he stepped in—and Lux felt his entire nervous system react before his brain could catch up.

She looked… divine.

Her hair was styled in a casual low ponytail, but the strands were silk. Glossed. Framing her face with this effortless elegance that was deeply unfair to the rest of humanity. Her skin was glowing—like, celestial glow. Her makeup was so light, so natural, he almost didn't notice it, except for the subtle contouring that made her cheekbones look like they'd been carved by profit-driven angels. Her lips were soft pink, her lashes curled. Her eyes? Bright, fierce, knowing.

And as an incubus?

Yeah.

It wasn't his heart that reacted first.

It was below.

His inner core sparked like someone had just set fire to his libido with a flamethrower. His d*ck gave a proud, immediate reaction.

Lux blinked. Whispered to himself, "Down, boy."

Sira, still sipping smugly, flicked a glance down to his crotch and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Wow," Lux said casually, hands in his pockets like he wasn't currently at war with his pants. "You're done already?"

Naomi turned her head slightly, posing just enough to flex the glow. "Yeah," she said, brushing invisible dust off her sleeve. "They work fast."

Mira finally put her toast down. "You look illegal."

Naomi smiled politely. "Thank you."

"No, seriously," Rava chimed in. "You look like you walked off the cover of a divine fashion magazine and every page has a 'No Mortals Allowed' warning."

Lux stepped closer, slowly. "Maybe we can squeeze in a round or two before you go?"

Naomi gave him a sideways look. "My car's already at the gates. I just need to change."

Lux made a thoughtful face. "Ten minutes?"

"Lux."

"Five minutes?"

She smirked. "I just got styled. Do not mess with this face."

The twins—Velza and Vierra—appeared beside her with perfect timing, hovering like glamorous warlocks.

"We can fix it again," Velza offered smoothly.

"Or delay the car," Vierra added. "Traffic hexes are an option."

Naomi raised a hand like a queen holding court. "No delays. I'll be late, but I'll be immaculate."

Sira clapped once. "That's the spirit."

Mira slammed her hands on the table. "My turn!"

Lux turned. "You're ready?"

"I was born ready," she said, already standing and stretching her arms above her head. "I need these brushes on my face now. I am ordering a crate of infernal cosmetics after this. No—importing them to this realm."

"You want to start a luxury infernal brand?" Lux said, grinning.

"I want my face to look like Naomi's," Mira replied. "You could shine a spotlight on her and blind an entire building."

Velza gestured for her to sit. "With pleasure, my lady."

Mira dropped into the chair like she was about to be blessed by a god-tier cult. "Do your worst."

Rava stood next, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "I'll bathe now," she said, already heading for the hallway. "Next is me!"

Lux called after her, "Don't be too long, or I'll send the twins in with waterproof glamours."

"Not funny!" she shouted from down the hall.

Vierra leaned toward Lux with a sweet, polished smile. "Would you like us to prepare Miss Sira next?"

Sira gave her a look. "If you touch my wings without oiling them first, I will end you."

Velza bowed. "Of course, my lady."

Naomi stood from her seat, turning just slightly to look back at Lux. "I'll get changed now. Try not to flirt with the stylists."

"No promises."

She gave him one final look—like she knew he was going to stare as she walked away—and then disappeared up the stairs.

The moment she was gone, Lux exhaled like someone who'd just survived a very sensual war.

"She's gonna kill me one day," he muttered.

Sira leaned in with her cup, still glowing from her smug little victory. "Or tame you."

"Unlikely," Lux said, though it came out more like a prayer than a promise.

He tilted his head, eyes scanning the room.

Mira was halfway through her infernal makeover—Velza had her hair pinned up in a half-crown of shimmering threads, and Vierra was dabbing a glowing blush across her cheekbones that somehow made her look like she was flirting just by existing.

Then—

Sira narrowed her eyes. "Where's Fiera?"

Lux blinked. "Showering. She'll be down soon."

Sira raised a brow. "And she's still not aware you're a demon?"

Lux smirked. "Nope. I'm saving that reveal for when it's really dramatic."

Before she could reply, a soft beep-beep echoed from outside.

Lux turned toward the front of the mansion.

"Your car has arrived, sir," announced Fenrir.

Ah. Right on time.

His car delivery.

He strolled toward the grand entrance, shoes tapping against polished black marble. The double doors opened automatically, enchanted with lazy wealth and subtle authority. Outside, a slick obsidian-black car sat idling in the driveway—fresh from the mortal realm's luxury showroom. It was a high-end model, nothing magical or infernal. Just rich. Fast. Clean. And… normal.