Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

It had been an hour.

A full sixty minutes of Lux Vaelthorn casually deconstructing the hopes and dreams of elite collectors one artifact at a time.

"Overpriced."

"Worth it, but barely."

"Fake. Cheap fake."

"Real, but cursed. So yes—but only if you hate your heirs."

Lylith didn't say much during those assessments. She didn't have to. Her eyes said it all—gleaming like coins dipped in wine, cataloging every breath Lux took.

And her assistant? That poor soul practically wore his fingers to the bone trying to keep up, scribbling frantically in that gold-edged notebook while Lylith stood silent and stunning like a serpent goddess surveying her treasure map.

Lux wasn't sure what she planned to do with the information. And honestly, he didn't want to ask.

But he could guess.

Buy it. Trade for it. Sabotage the pricing negotiations just to make someone cry over a missed zero. Or maybe even leak the fakes to the media and watch reputations crumble like stale fortune cookies.

She wouldn't even blink.

And Lux?

He admired that.

She had a particular look when something caught her attention. A slight shift in her pupils. A tilt in her lips. It wasn't lust. It wasn't greed.

It was acquisition.

'Oh, I want this,' her expression would whisper when she spotted something worthy. A rare spirit-bound crown? Her gaze practically lit up. That shattered temple ring etched in lost dialect? Her tail twitched like she was already calculating how to steal it out from under a rival's nose.

Other items, though? Just as quickly dismissed.

She just gave 'Mm. Not bad. Toss it in the maybe-pile. Or feed it to my vault for aesthetic purposes' kind of look.

She had tiers in her mind, and Lux could see them forming in real time. Items she needed. Items she could use. And items that were beneath her.

By the end, they had made a complete lap of the gallery, leaving behind a trail of silent tension, blushing collectors, and at least three professional appraisers who were now reconsidering their careers.

And then—

It ended.

Not the exhibition.

No, the gallery still bustled, the overpriced wines still flowed, and egos were still being polished to high heaven.

But Lylith and Lux?

They were done.

And just like that, they disappeared from the public eye.

Back to the velvet-lined corridor. Past the roped security enchantments. Into her private VIP suite—an extravagant lounge of sunken silk couches, ceiling mirrors, and polished marble warm to the touch.

The scent inside was soft but heady—jasmine, amber, and something darker. Almost serpentine. The kind of fragrance that whispered of dry deserts and wet silk.

The moment the doors sealed shut with a golden hiss, Lylith flicked her tail once—sharp and commanding.

Her aides bowed and left without a word.

The silence they left behind was decadent.

She slithered toward the largest sofa and dropped herself onto it like royalty off-duty. No shoes, obviously. Her coiled lower half half-draped across the plush cushions like a lazy flex. Scales shimmered like wet obsidian under the amber light.

Lux leaned against the wall. Crossed his arms. Waited.

Because something was coming.

He could feel it in the air—the shift. The twist. The uncoiling of something that had been tight all day long.

"You did well," Lylith said finally, stretching with feline grace. Her tail gave a single, satisfied flick. "Very well."

Lux tilted his head. "And?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "And I liked it."

He raised a brow. "Great. Now where's my payment?"

Lylith turned slowly—her gaze dripping with amusement. "Payment?"

"Yes." He pushed off the wall, strolling toward her with his usual half-lidded stare and effortless arrogance. "You don't expect me to work for free, do you?"

"Of course not," she said smoothly, straightening her spine just enough to reach for something… unseen.

Then she extended her hand.

Palm down.

Fingers poised.

The back of her hand gleamed under the golden light—adorned only with a thin ring of emerald and platinum.

"I'll let you have me," she said softly.

Lux paused.

Blinking once.

"That's… a hand," he said.

"Yes," she replied. "You may kiss it."

"…Excuse me?"

Her tone remained perfectly neutral. "You should be honored. No one's ever been allowed to kiss my hand. Not even the Archduke of Sulkar. And he proposed. Four times."

"You're comparing me to someone who wears gemstone socks and thinks 'market crash' is a kind of cocktail."

Her smile widened, just a bit. "And yet even he didn't get to touch me."

Lux stared at her outstretched hand like it was a spreadsheet error.

"This is your idea of payment?" he asked, voice laced with amused complaint.

"It's more than money."

"Is it?"

"Would you rather I give you a briefcase full of diamonds?"

Lux sniffed. "I don't need that."

Lylith chuckled under her breath. Then leaned back, resting her arm across the top of the sofa as she watched him—eyes glowing faintly, tail flicking in slow waves behind her.

"You don't like it?" she teased.

"No." Lux crossed his arms again, gaze narrowing with a smirk. "You said I could 'have you.' You made it sound like something substantial. This is more like a ceremonial handshake for nobles who haven't touched grass in three centuries."

Lylith's eyes gleamed. "So you do want more."

"Obviously."

"You want me."

"Yes." He paced forward now, slow, predatory. "That's the deal."

Lylith's lips twitched faintly. "You make it sound like I'm a commodity."

"You said it yourself." Lux's tone was silk over steel. "You're value. And I collect rare assets."

She let that hang in the air for a moment. Not angry. Not offended. Just… curious. Her eyes narrowed slightly, gleaming like polished jade caught under candlelight.

"I'm not some relic you can auction, Mr. Vaelthorn," she said smoothly. "I don't come with a price tag or a user manual."

Lux smirked, voice lowering as he stepped closer. "Good. Manuals are for people who don't know how to handle fire."

She chuckled, low and dangerous. "Careful. You might burn."

"I am the fire," Lux replied, his eyes flashing with that molten gold for a heartbeat. "And you're the one playing with matches."