Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Lux leaned in just a bit.

Not too close.

Just enough to let them feel the gravity of what danger in a three-piece suit looked like up close.

"I'm not here to be hunted," he whispered.

[Passive Skill Triggered: Negotiator's Smile]

[Effect: Induces guilt, fear, or arousal based on target's disposition.]

Serelina shivered.

The friend stood up halfway and sat back down, unsure if running or crying would be more dignified.

"I—" Serelina stammered. "I didn't mean it like that. We just—"

Lux straightened. Adjusted his cufflinks.

"Don't worry. I'm used to people meaning exactly what they say."

His voice was velvet laced with a surgical edge—polite enough for polite company, but dipped in something colder. Something that said 'I know. I always know'.

Serelina managed a shaky laugh, her glossed lips twitching in a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Her friend looked like she wanted to crawl under the table, or possibly under the earth.

Lux didn't let the silence stretch too long. That would've been cruel.

He took a step closer—just one—reaching out with the same calm grace one might use to adjust a napkin or hand someone a note.

Instead, he lightly patted Serelina's hand. Once. Fingertips barely brushing the back of hers.

"Please," he said gently, voice warm but humming with dark amusement, "be careful."

Her breath caught.

Not because of what he said.

But because of how he said it.

Like a lullaby wrapped around a threat.

And as his fingers left her skin, so did something else.

[Skill Activated: Wealth Rewrite – Misfortune]

[Target: Serelina Maren]

[Effect: Portfolio disruption, cascading inconvenience events, public embarrassment]

[Visual Feedback: None]

[Time to activation: 17 minutes]

To her, it felt like nothing.

A polite gesture. A warning cloaked in social grace.

He smiled like a gentleman who'd just let a dove go from his palm.

"Have a good day," he said smoothly. "Truly."

Then he turned and walked away, back straight, suit crisp, the café's tension folding behind him like static in the wake of a lightning strike.

[Not even bankrupting her this time?]

Lux replied internally, tone dry. "She didn't spill my coffee."

[Merciful.]

"And it was just a plan," he added. "A dumb one, yeah. But words don't deserve nukes. Misfortune will ruin her days just fine."

[Estimated Results: Delayed valet, missed lunch reservation, allergy reaction, get sprained, bad hair day, smelly body, sudden break out and a sudden unexpected audit.]

[Portfolio Deviation Forecast: -13.7% by market close.]

Lux nodded faintly. That would do.

The lobby was quiet by the time he reached the elevator. A soft gold-and-glass space filled with mellow jazz and scent-controlled air that smelled like expensive time.

He checked his reflection in the polished elevator door. Still perfect.

Hair slicked back but not stiff.

Jawline sharp enough to slice avocado toast.

Eyes unreadable, but somehow making eye contact with everyone in the room without looking at anyone.

Yeah.

Still him.

He stepped into the elevator and reached for the button to his floor.

And then—

"Are you Lux Vaelthorn?"

The voice cut through the silence like silk with a nail in it.

He paused. Turned his head.

And saw her.

Fox ears.

Glossy auburn hair that shimmered under the lobby lights.

Eyes the color of rich golden brandy and twice as dangerous.

A cream-and-rose outfit that screamed money, modesty, and menace in equal measure.

And behind her?

Two bodyguards in matte suits with curved sunglasses and wireless earpieces. The left one smelled like gun oil and bitterness. The right one smelled like betrayal and protein powder.

She, however…

She smelled like sweetened plum wine.

And trouble.

Lux stepped back out of the elevator with the kind of calm that made people feel like they were suddenly underdressed.

He offered her a smile that was equal parts boardroom charm and bedroom dare.

"I might be," he said. "Depending on who's asking."

The fox girl tilted her head, curls brushing her shoulder.

"I'm Aelitha. Fiera's cousin."

Oh.

Interesting.

She had the voice of someone used to being taken seriously and the posture of someone who'd burn down a boutique because it ran out of her size.

Lux took a moment to think—not to respond, but to watch.

Her hands were perfectly still. Her tail didn't twitch. But her pupils? Slightly dilated.

Nervous. Curious. Or maybe she just liked what she saw.

[She does. But not in a good way.]

[Recommend action: Caution.]

Aelitha stepped forward. "I've been meaning to meet you. My cousin doesn't normally entertain strangers. But you? She let you walk her runway."

She gave him a slow smile. "That's new."

Lux folded his arms lightly, letting the motion flex just enough fabric across his chest to remind the guards he wasn't mortal either—though, of course, they didn't know why.

"She asked," he said simply. "I accepted. It was an interesting evening."

Aelitha narrowed her eyes. "You don't act like a model."

"I'm not."

"Then what are you?"

Lux smiled. The good one. The slow-burn, you'll-never-know-all-of-me one.

"A devil," he replied.

A beat.

She didn't take it well.

Or maybe she did—depending on your definition of flustered but trying to act superior.

"My family," she said slowly, "doesn't like unknowns."

Lux tilted his head. "And yet, you're here. Talking to one."

"I like unknowns," she said, with the kind of purr that was all claws underneath.

Ah.

So she was the type to poke sleeping dragons just to see if they'd purr back or burn her.

Lux stepped a bit closer.

Just a bit.

Close enough to disrupt personal space, not close enough to be sued for it.

"Be careful, Miss Aelitha," he said, voice dipped in smooth shadow. "Sometimes the unknown doesn't like being known."

Then—like an afterthought—he reached out, and patted her hand. Gently. Warm. Polite.

But this time?

No skills.

Just a gesture.

And yet—

Her cheeks flushed.

The bodyguards tensed slightly, but Aelitha didn't flinch. She simply blinked up at him and smiled.

"You're hard to read, Mr. Vaelthorn."

"I practice."

She stepped back finally, adjusting her gloves. "Do you have a moment?"

Lux hesitated. Considered.

Then stepped back into the elevator. "You have exactly thirty floors."

Her brows lifted.

She followed. Guards too.

And just like that, Lux Vaelthorn's quiet elevator ride back to his suite turned into a curated disaster waiting to unfold.