Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

She didn't move. Didn't blink. Just sat there coiled and poised, lounging like a throne was built beneath her, scales glinting in candlelight, as if every slither of her body whispered, 'You may approach the queen—if you dare.'

Lux huffed. A quiet, amused exhale, more shadow than sound. He knew this wasn't going anywhere. Not yet. Not the way he wanted it to.

He glanced around—lazy, casual, but every movement calculated like a seasoned thief pretending not to count exits. His gaze brushed across the corners of the room.

Three cameras.

Subtle. High-end. Flush with the gold trim. Probably enchanted. Definitely armed.

And she knew it.

Of course she did.

Lylith didn't leave anything to chance.

But neither did he.

Lux took a step closer, his fingertips grazing the edge of a glass table covered in curated temptation. Velvet boxes, crystal jars, little trays of rings and perfume vials stacked like sins in a boutique cathedral.

He let his fingers drift over a box of luminous pearls.

He didn't look down.

Didn't need to.

Three pearls vanished into his hand.

Sleight of hand, old as hell. Literally.

He leaned forward—closer to her now, close enough to smell the scent curling from her skin. Like citrus oil soaked into black silk and desert sun melting over rare incense.

"Let me get this straight. When I said I want you," he murmured, voice low, "I meant all of you. Body and heart."

Lylith's lips curved. Not a smile. A warning.

"Be careful, Mr. Vaelthorn," she said softly. "You shouldn't trespass your line."

He felt it then.

The shift.

That tightening of pressure behind his back, like heat prickling beneath his suit jacket.

The cameras weren't just cameras.

They were weapons.

Enchanted defense units, bound to lethal targeting runes. Any unauthorized action? Any hostile movement?

Boom. Back full of light holes. Very chic. Very dead.

Lux didn't flinch.

Didn't slow.

He wasn't afraid.

Not because he was stupid. But because he wasn't mortal.

He was the son of Greed.

The heir to Lust.

The Crown Prince of Want.

And no machine, no lamia's laser system, no enchanted corporate-grade security ward… could shake him.

He smirked.

"You can't threaten me," he said calmly. "It won't work."

Lylith's expression didn't change. Her tail curled slightly tighter behind her, coiling like a snake deciding whether to strike or seduce.

"Why do you say that?" she asked, voice smooth as polished opal.

Lux opened his hand.

Three perfect pearls glinted against his palm.

And then—

He flicked his wrist.

Three tiny flashes of white arced through the air with precision, each aimed at the exact node joints of the hidden camera units.

-Bang!

-Bang!

-Bang!

The lights flared. Sparks burst. Smoke sizzled from the wall corners. The faint electric hiss of short-circuiting enchantments stung the air.

[SECURITY SURVEILLANCE UNITS: DISABLED (x3)]

Lux's smirk widened.

Still standing. No lasers in his back.

Still devilishly alive.

Lylith froze—just for a fraction of a second.

Not in fear.

In shock.

The kind of stunned silence that only happened when someone managed to do something both suicidal and… hot.

Her lips parted, barely. Her pupils dilated just enough to shimmer.

He leaned in, slow and sure, like a devil sealing a contract without ink.

"If you think I'm just a simple billionaire," he said, voice velvet and steel, "you're going to be very disappointed."

He didn't give her time to argue.

Didn't let her deflect.

He moved—one fluid step—and claimed her lips.

Not a peck.

Not a test.

A kiss.

Soft. But not gentle.

Firm. But not cruel.

Domination wrapped in silk. Hunger restrained by a whisper of control.

It made her tremble.

She didn't mean to. Lylith Seravelle, the Jewelry Queen, did not tremble.

But it happened.

A ripple through her spine. A shiver under her scales. Her tail flinched, then coiled tighter again like it didn't know whether to lash or wrap around him.

His mouth tasted like fire and forbidden contracts. Like stolen luxury. Like something no one had dared to touch until now.

When he pulled back, it wasn't with a smirk.

Not yet.

It was slower. More intimate. Like he wanted her to remember exactly how his lips left hers—warm and a little dizzy. Like wealth with a pulse.

"That's all for now," Lux murmured, eyes still half-lidded, his breath brushing against her cheek like a secret.

Footsteps sounded outside the velvet-lined hall. Heavy. Rushed. Armed.

Lux didn't move.

He leaned forward one last time, grazing his thumb lightly over her lower lip.

"I'll have you pay me more," he whispered, "later."

Then, impossibly soft, he grazed her lips again—just a brush. A feathered echo of the kiss before. A signature, not a repeat.

Lylith still hadn't moved.

Her tail was twisted in tight spirals around the base of the sofa, coiled with tension and heat. Her chest rose and fell too evenly, like someone forcing breath into rhythm. Her eyes didn't blink, and her lips… they still tingled.

Because no one had ever dared kiss her like that.

Not because she didn't allow it.

But because no one had dared.

They offered rings. They offered oaths. They offered shares and mergers and eternal partnership clauses.

Lux just took it.

Her.

For one, brief, maddening moment.

And the worst part?

She liked it.

Liked the madness.

Liked the infernal confidence.

Liked that he wasn't pretending.

Because he wasn't just some spoiled rich guy with a pretty face and sarcasm as a defense mechanism. He was danger in a well-cut suit. Fire wrapped in finance. A contract that didn't need ink because the signature was written in skin.

Outside, the door buzzed. The security enchantments hissed. Someone knocked—twice. Then paused. Waiting.

Lux stepped back, rolled his neck once, and brushed invisible dust off his sleeves. "You should probably let them in before they think I killed you and stole your vault keys."

She didn't answer.

Just stared.

He turned, when her voice finally returned.

Low. Quiet. Sharp.

"Lux."