Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Mira gave him one last glance. "We'll talk later."

Lux smirked. "Can't wait."

They stepped out of the car into warm, late-afternoon sun. The scent of incense and roasted spices hit him immediately—star anise, black pepper oil, and something citrusy and sharp, like pickled lotus stem. A warm breeze tugged at his jacket.

He already knew before looking.

Eastern cuisine.

Of course.

The restaurant loomed like a palace carved into glass and cherrywood—subtle, rich, discreet. Two golden lions guarded the front steps. Waitstaff in silk stood like decorative swords, poised and perfect.

He looked over at Mira.

"Really?" he asked. "This is your low-key lunch spot?"

She adjusted her hairpin. "Would you prefer fast food?"

"I mean… now that you've said it, yeah. I kinda want dumplings in a paper bag."

She gave him a side-eye so sharp it could fillet mana whales.

They were guided inside without a word. One look at Mira's face and the staff was already leading them to the most private booth in the upper tier—semi-secluded behind silk screens, koi pond beneath the floor, mood lighting soft enough to make devils flirt and dragons lower their guard.

The chairs weren't chairs. They were thrones masquerading as seats. Soft, polished, cushioned in green jade velvet. The table hummed with a warded field—conversations couldn't be heard beyond a three-foot radius.

Classy.

Discreet.

Deadly.

Lux liked it.

He didn't talk much during the first half of the meal. Not because he couldn't. But because for the first time in hours, the air felt… heavy.

Not bad.

Just real.

He'd overshared. Let her in more than he meant to. Between Lylith's chaos and Mira's questions, he wasn't used to the after part. He was used to fire and damage control. Not… chopsticks and lingering silences.

They ordered duck with black vinegar glaze, fermented mushroom dumplings, and lotus chips laced with something Mira promised wasn't addictive but still made his taste buds twitch.

Eventually, after a long pause between courses, Lux broke the silence.

"So," he said, lightly, "why'd you invite me to the exhibition, anyway?"

Mira didn't answer at first.

Instead, she reached for her teacup—fine porcelain, pale blue edge—and took a slow sip.

When she spoke, her voice was light. Too light.

"If I said I just wanted to see you," she murmured, "would you believe it?"

He blinked at her.

Then smiled slowly. "Half."

She huffed. "That's generous."

He leaned back. "So what's the real reason?"

She met his eyes.

And said smoothly, "My reason was the same as Lylith's."

Lux didn't flinch.

Didn't move.

But inside, something curled cold at the edge of his spine.

Because that?

That was a lie.

A clean, sharp, deliberate lie.

He could hear it in the cadence.

He could feel it.

Every word too perfect, balanced like a financial report designed to fool a team of auditors.

He tilted his head. "You sure about that?"

"Yes."

"You wanted my appraisal skills."

"Yes."

"Nothing else."

"No."

He grinned wider. "Do you have a crush on me, Mira?"

Her hand paused mid-reach.

The chopsticks in her fingers went still.

"W-What?" she snapped.

Oh, that stumble.

That tiny stutter.

It was beautiful.

Lux watched her like she was a rare stock chart about to spike. "I asked if you have a crush."

"Absolutely not."

He leaned forward, voice lowering. "When we first met, you were fire. Sharp and cold. Fierceless. Now you're a little… tame."

She scowled. "I am not tame."

"I didn't say soft. I said tame. There's a difference."

Mira sat back in her seat, the tips of her ears—just slightly—turning pink.

Which on her?

Was the equivalent of a public emotional breakdown.

She crossed her arms. "Don't mistake my self-control for affection."

"Oh, I'm not mistaking anything." Lux reached for his tea. "I'm confirming things."

She scoffed. "You're insufferable."

"And yet," he said, "you're still here."

The silence between them now wasn't cold.

It was charged.

Like a wire pressed too tight between two breakers.

Lux watched her carefully—really looked.

Mira Xianlong.

Banking goddess.

Eastern heiress.

A walking merger between discipline and pride.

She wasn't like Naomi, all warmth and chaos and bleeding vulnerability.

She wasn't like Rava, all sharp edges and coiled hunger.

Mira… was something else.

Something deliberate.

And that made her dangerous.

Because Lux knew people like her rarely let themselves want.

And when they did?

It wasn't a whim.

It was chosen.

So maybe she didn't want to admit it.

But she did invite him.

She did lean closer in the car.

She did soften when he mentioned Naomi's words about chandeliers.

And all of that?

Was data.

"Let's make a deal," Lux said casually, twirling his chopsticks.

Mira narrowed her eyes. "What kind of deal?"

"If you ever decide to like me," he said, "just say it. No need to hide behind business metaphors. I hate that. This isn't a business meeting."

She blinked.

Then, voice smooth as silk-wrapped knives. "And if I don't?"

"Then I'll pretend this lunch was about jade antiques and forgery detection."

She didn't answer.

But she didn't argue either.

Instead, Mira reached for the wine decanter and poured them both another glass.

"No more chandelier talk," she said.

"Deal."

And beneath the table, their legs brushed—just once. Just enough to make her tail twitch in silent betrayal.

Just enough to make Lux smile again.

And beneath the table, their legs brushed—just once. Just enough to make her tail twitch in silent betrayal.

Just enough to make Lux smile again.

"I'm interested in you," Mira said suddenly.

Lux's smile flickered. His eyes lifted from his cup and locked onto hers, sharper now, more still.

She held his gaze.

"Interested," she repeated, calm but not cold. "Not love. Not… like. That's all I can say for now."

Lux leaned back slightly, head tilting just a degree. Not smirking. Not smug. Just watching.

Like a gambler who heard the cards shuffle.

"Well," he said, voice smooth, "that's already more than most admit."

Mira took another sip of wine. "I don't lie. I just… delay."

"Is this a delay?"

"Maybe."

Lux tapped his fingers once on the table, then smiled—smaller this time, realer.

"Thank you for your confirmation."