Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Color bled back into her cheeks. A soft sound escaped her lips—half moan, half sigh—as though the drink was more than just relief.

Lux grimaced. "Oh, for—don't make that sound. You're not in my harem. Yet."

Her breathing steadied. She slumped back against the seat, still unconscious, but less fragile now. A faint flush tinted her pale skin, and her lips curved into something dangerously close to a smile.

Lux corked the vial and tucked it back into storage, muttering under his breath. "Mermaid heiress passed out in my passenger seat. This is how scandals start."

He checked her again. Stable. Alive. Resting.

This wasn't a ledger. This wasn't a deal. This was… inconvenient.

He slid back into his seat, exhaling. "Alright. Hospital first. Explanations later." He started the car, eyes flicking to the woman's serene face.

The drive wasn't long. Mortals built hospitals everywhere, like insurance companies in meat form—ready to process you the moment life shoved you off balance. The siren—Ariel, though he didn't know that yet—slept in the passenger seat, head tilted slightly, hair clinging damp against her cheek. She looked… peaceful. Lux hated that. Nothing was peaceful in his world.

When he pulled up to the ER bay, his car purred into silence. He leaned over and tapped her shoulder gently. "Hey. Wake up. We're here."

Her lashes fluttered. Slowly, eyes the color of storm-lit seas blinked open, locking on him. For a second, just a second, she looked like she was drowning in the sight of him.

"You…" Her lips parted, faint smile twitching. "You're handsome."

Lux chuckled, not missing a beat. "I know. But we can file that under 'future flirting.' Right now? Hospital."

He reached down, unbuckled her seatbelt, and shifted like he was about to climb out. "Can you walk, or should I carry you like a princess for dramatic effect? I do a mean entrance—trust me, the lobby will talk about it for weeks."

Her hand shot up and caught his wrist. Weak grip, trembling fingers—but the desperation in it froze him.

"No."

Lux stilled. "No?"

She shook her head, gaze flicking toward the glowing red cross of the hospital. Her face twisted, not in pain—something else. Shame. Fear. "Please. No hospital."

Lux leaned back in his seat, brows rising. "Okay… so, where do you want to go?"

Silence stretched. Her lips pressed together, her throat bobbing as if she was trying to swallow down something that wouldn't move. Finally, she whispered, "I have nowhere to go."

Lux blinked at her. He almost laughed—almost. The irony was too sharp. 'Nowhere to go?' She was practically glowing with wealth when his scan hit her earlier. Heiress. Mermaid bloodline. Fortune in the hundreds of millions. And here she was, trembling like a runaway intern with two coins and a bus ticket.

He tilted his head, studying her. 'Strange. A bloodline like that doesn't just vanish. If a family disowns you, sure, you lose access, assets, protections. But your scan? Your financial tag rewrites instantly. That's law. And hers… didn't. Still heiress. Still swimming in liquidity. So either her family's lying, or she's lying. And she doesn't know her ledger shows up in neon to me.'

"You're a mermaid heiress," Lux said flatly. "A bloodline can't be cut away like last season's budget."

Her eyes widened faintly, lips parting in a nervous breath. But then she shook her head, voice quiet, almost breaking. "No… I'm a siren. Just… a weird siren."

Lux frowned. Her voice rang true. No deceit in her tone. But his system's scan didn't lie either.

So which was it? Mermaid heiress clinging to denial? Or siren girl hiding behind a cracked identity?

"You don't lie like a hustler," Lux muttered. "And that's the problem. Because if you're telling me the truth, sweetheart, then someone in your bloodline ledger is cooking numbers behind the scenes. And I don't like other people tampering with the books."

She hugged herself, gaze downcast, voice a whisper. "They… threw me away."

Lux arched a brow.

He leaned back, smirk sharp but eyes colder. "Well, congratulations. You just made yourself my newest headache. Don't worry—I've got practice. The whole royal court of Hell lines up to make me theirs weekly."

Her gaze flicked up, searching him. Fragile, uncertain.

"What do you want then?" he asked finally, voice steady, cutting.

Silence again. Her lips trembled. Shoulders curled inward. "I don't know… I don't know."

Lux studied her for a long beat. Her voice cracked like a failed business pitch, like someone who'd never written her own terms before.

And for once, he didn't smirk. Didn't joke.

Because deep down, buried under contracts, bloodlines, and infernal politics, Lux Vaelthorn knew this girl wasn't lying.

And worse—he knew he was about to get involved.

He drummed his fingers against the wheel, thinking fast.

He sighed through his teeth, turning back to her. "Alright. No hospital. But you're not dying in my passenger seat either. So, here's the deal. You stick with me for now. Hydrate. Eat something that isn't irony. Then you tell me who decided to 'throw you away' and why your account still looks like a Woll Street wet dream."

Her eyes widened. "Woll… street?"

Lux pinched his nose. "Don't worry about it." He glanced at her again, sharper. "But you'll owe me. And trust me, you don't want my interest rates. And if you create a problem for me—" he let the pause hang, deliberately cruel "—I'm selling you to sushi parlors."

Her head jerked toward him so fast he almost laughed. "S-sushi parlors?!" Her voice cracked, eyes widening like he'd just threatened to auction her on a fish market slab.

Lux smirked, finally amused again. "Yeah. Premium cut. You'd go well with wasabi. Maybe a little soy sauce drizzle. Hell, I could brand it—'Heiress Nigiri.' Limited edition."

Her mouth dropped open. "You're horrible!"

"And yet you're still sitting in my car," he said smoothly, tapping the wheel like he was conducting a symphony. "Which means you already know the truth—you'd rather deal with a horrible bastard who knows how to balance a ledger than go back to the ones who threw you out."

She faltered, lips pressing together, but her glare lingered. "You wouldn't really…"

"Oh, I would," Lux deadpanned, then winked. "But only if you annoy me enough. Consider it motivation to behave."

She nodded anyway.