Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

For once, Lux didn't have an answer.

His smirk faltered—barely, but Mira saw it.

"I'm… not sure," he said, honestly. The words felt weird in his mouth. Not because they were wrong, but because he so rarely admitted uncertainty out loud. Especially not in front of dragon-blooded heiresses who dressed like divine executioners.

Mira blinked. Just once.

Lux looked out the tinted window, brow slightly furrowed. The passing skyline reflected back at him—a blurred collage of neon signs, glass towers, old cathedrals swallowed by modern greed.

"I mean, yeah… at first, she abducted me." He huffed, a quiet exhale through his nose. "And I let her. Because I wanted to know who was pulling strings. The mastermind. Thought maybe one of the auction guests was behind it."

Mira tilted her head, still watching him.

"I suspected the duke, you know?" Lux added. "Figured he might've been trying to silence me after the whole thing yesterday."

She nodded slightly. "His werewolves are the ones who attacked you at the auction."

"Yeah. But…" Lux shrugged. "Turns out I was wrong."

His fingers tapped lightly against his thigh.

"I mean, sure, Lylith already had cameras planted in the hotel room before today. Probably more. But my people dealt with those."

"Your people," Mira's eyes narrowed slightly. "One of them's named Corvus, right?"

Lux grinned—almost boyishly. "Let's not talk about that."

"That's a yes."

Mira let that pass without another jab, which surprised Lux more than it should've.

"So you couldn't escape?" she asked. "And you just… stayed?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "It wasn't that."

He fell quiet for a moment.

"Maybe I stayed because I wanted to know what she wanted from me. Really wanted."

"Power?" Mira offered. "Influence? Leverage?"

"Maybe."

She turned more fully toward him, her posture still poised but her tone more curious now. "Do you think… she have a crush on you?"

Lux didn't answer immediately.

Which said more than a direct yes ever could.

"Maybe," he admitted eventually. "But I don't think it's that simple."

Mira raised an elegant brow.

"I think it's about business. Or maybe…" he paused again, watching his own reflection in the window, "maybe it's because she sees my value."

"You think you're not valuable?" she asked, more serious now.

"No. That's not what I said." Lux turned to her. "I mean, she sees it. Really sees it. Not like the way people see numbers on a net worth chart. Not like status or fashion or family name."

He fell quiet again, his thoughts drifting in a place even he didn't usually visit.

Because something in that suite… in that kiss… in the way Lylith looked at him like he was an auction piece wrapped in flesh… it stuck with him.

There was a moment there—brief, unsettling, sharp—where she didn't just see a man.

She saw something rare.

Something dangerous.

And wanted it.

Not for prestige. Not for press. Not even for conquest.

But because it called to her.

Lux tilted his head, lost in his own silence.

In truth, he wasn't sure what it meant.

But one thing buzzed in his skull—sharp, electric, and wrong in all the right ways.

'She might be the closest thing to Greed I've seen among mortals.'

Mira was watching him now—closely. Measuring.

Her eyes didn't narrow this time. They softened. Slightly.

Without a word, she reached into the car's mini bar and pulled out a sleek, chilled glass of champagne. No label. Pale gold with a faint sparkle.

She handed it to him wordlessly.

Lux blinked.

"…Thanks."

"What?" she said, half-smirking again. "Don't give me suspense."

He took the glass, swirled it once. "Maybe she and I are a bit similar."

Mira snorted, softly. "That's a terrifying thought."

"You're not wrong."

She leaned back again. "Anyway… I heard something today."

Lux arched a brow.

"I heard you're planning to stay in Carson's mansion next week."

He gave her a lazy smile. "Yeah. That mansion is mine now."

She raised a brow. "You bought it?"

"Technically, yeah."

He took a sip of his champagne.

Then paused.

Swallowed.

"…Wait. You heard something?"

Mira nodded, calmly. "Carson found out."

Lux froze.

And slowly turned toward her.

Mira took a sip of her own glass before speaking.

"He went completely feral. Rage fit. Broke a few antiques. Smashed a mirror. Ripped down a portrait. Almost set the mansion on fire."

Lux blinked. "He what?"

"Yeah." Mira's tone was dry. "Apparently the staff called the police just before he could actually torch the place. They hauled him out kicking and screaming."

Lux hissed through his teeth. "Damn him…"

He set the champagne down slowly.

"Those were my chandeliers."

Mira laughed.

Actually laughed.

A low, sharp sound full of wicked delight.

"You're upset about the chandeliers?"

Lux gave her a wounded look, dramatic and deadpan. "They were black glass. Naomi said they shimmered like obsidian rain under candlelight. Of course I'm upset."

Mira blinked.

"You've never even seen them."

"No," Lux admitted, sighing. "But Naomi liked them. She said they made the room feel like a cathedral built for secrets."

That last part he didn't mean to say aloud. But it slipped, like a thread unraveling from something too tightly held.

Mira looked at him for a long moment, her eyes flickering with something unreadable. Not mockery. Not sharp amusement. Something else. Something quieter.

"You've never been to the mansion, have you?" she asked finally.

Lux shook his head. "Not once."

"Then why did you buy it?"

He glanced at her.

Paused.

Then smiled, half-lidded and lazy. "Because I'm petty."

It was a joke.

Mostly.

But she didn't laugh.

Instead, Mira leaned toward him—just slightly—her perfume catching the air like rare snow melting on hot stone. Her voice dropped an octave.

"Just because of that?"

Lux tilted his head, that slow devilish grin spreading again. "Careful, Miss Xianlong," he said, soft but laced with warning. "You keep leaning in like that… you might attract more problems."

Her lips curved. "Like?"

"Me."

Before she could shoot something back—because knowing Mira, she had something loaded—the car eased to a stop with a soft mechanical click of the magnetic brakes. The driver's voice came through the tinted intercom.

"We've arrived, miss."