MTLNOVEL Chapter 245: Round Thirty-Eight?
"That exact?"
"I'm always exact."
The system slid into his mind, as smooth and obedient as an old butler.
[Transaction Initiated]
[Recipient: Sira Shadowborn – Pride Royalty]
[Amount: 9,800,000 Hell Coins]
[Source: Greed Reserve – Personal Ledger]
[Confirm?]
Lux didn't even hesitate. 'Confirm.'
[Transaction Complete]
The panel dissolved into motes of gold dust that faded into the air.
The transfer was clean, instant—nine million, eight hundred thousand Hell Coins moved from his personal ledger into hers without so much as a ripple in his reserves.
They hadn't touched the Soul Credits. Those were reserved for antiques, relics, and other high-value assets; common pieces like the broken furniture were priced in Hell Coins only. Soul Credits were for treasures. This was just decor.
"Done," he said simply.
Sira's gaze lingered on him in a way that wasn't entirely about the money. "You didn't even ask for proof."
"I don't need proof. I know what I see."
Her grin widened slowly. "You know me too well already."
"I make a point of it."
She tilted her head, watching him with that slow, predatory interest Pride demons had when they were deciding if someone was worth claiming or just worth playing with. "I like your kind of arrogance."
Lux didn't answer. He just smirked again, reached for her hand, and pulled her toward the elevator wall.
The runes along the sleek black steel flickered green, shifting under his touch. The magic deepened, and the faint scent of hot metal and ancient coins filled the air.
There was a soft lurch, a breathless drop—and then light shifted around them.
When Lux stepped forward, the world had changed.
Gone was the gilded opulence of the Pride Lord's estate. The air was cooler now, tinged with that faint, crisp sterility of purified mortal-world ventilation. The scent of old wealth had been replaced by the faint trace of citrus polish and linen.
They were standing in the center of his suite at the Grand Sovereign Hotel.
Sira stepped forward slowly, her gaze sweeping the place. "Mortal realm luxury," she murmured, fingers brushing the back of an armchair upholstered in midnight velvet. "Different… but not bad."
"It's quiet here," Lux said as he crossed to the minibar. "No politics unless I invite it. No Throne demons showing up unannounced. Just… the city, the suite, and whoever I choose to let in."
Her eyes flicked to him, a sly smirk tugging at her mouth. "So I'm a choice?"
Lux poured himself a glass of water, the faint clink of ice against crystal soft in the quiet. "You're here, aren't you?"
She walked to the windows. "It's strange," she said softly. "From here, the mortals look like ants. Moving, building, chasing scraps they think are treasures. And yet…" She tilted her head, her hair spilling over one shoulder. "…your bed here looks more tempting than a thousand Pride banquets."
Lux sipped his water, watching her from over the rim of the glass. "That's because this bed isn't for show."
She glanced over her shoulder, catching the way his gaze lingered. "And what's it for, Lux?"
He set the glass down, his smirk deepening just enough to make it dangerous. "Wanna find out?"
Sira's eyes glittered, the sunlight framing her like a queen deciding whether to grant an audience—or start a war. "So… round thirty-eight?" she asked, her voice low, playful, but laced with that dangerous confidence only Pride could carry.
"Yeah," Lux said without missing a beat. "Let's continue."
And just like that, the air between them snapped. She peeled her dress in one smooth, deliberate motion, the silk whispering against her skin before pooling at her feet like it had been waiting its whole life to fall there. He didn't bother pretending patience—his fingers were already working at the buttons of his messy shirt, yanking it open and tossing it aside before shoving his pants down and kicking them away.
They didn't walk to the bed. They pounced.
The mattress caught them with a muted thud, the silk sheets sighing under the sudden weight. Her mouth was on his before the bounce had even settled, hot and insistent, teeth catching his lower lip in a way that sent a sharp jolt through him.
Lux kissed her back harder, his hand tangling in her hair, the other gripping the curve of her hip to drag her flush against him.
The city's skyline glittered beyond the window, but he barely saw it. All he could taste was her—heat and faint spice. Her skin was warm under his palms, smooth and unyielding all at once, the way a woman who knows exactly what she's worth feels to touch.
She broke the kiss just long enough to smirk against his jaw. "You really don't get tired, do you?"
Lux's laugh was low, rough. "I'm half-incubus. I am stamina." He caught her mouth again before she could make a smart remark, swallowing the sound of her amused hum.
Her nails grazed his back, not hard enough to scratch but enough to make his muscles tighten under her hands.
He shifted, rolling her beneath him with the easy strength of someone who knew exactly how to use his weight. The sheets twisted under them, the scent of clean silk mixing with the faint ozone of Greed's magic still clinging to him from the transfer earlier.
Sira's breath hitched when his thigh slid between hers, pressing just enough to draw a reaction. "You really think you can keep up with me?" she murmured, voice threaded with challenge.
His smirk curved against her throat. "I've been keeping up since last night."
She laughed, a low, wicked sound that made him want to ruin her composure all over again. Her hands skimmed down his sides, nails dragging lightly over skin, and for a moment, Lux let himself sink into the feeling—heat, the soft rasp of her breathing, the faint tremor in her thighs when he shifted his weight just right.
It was still morning, sunlight angling through the glass to catch in her hair. Lux's mind, ever the CFO even now, registered the thought that if time was money, he was spending it very well right now.
And judging by the way Sira arched against him, she agreed.