Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

They finished the rest of their breakfast in companionable silence, the clink of cutlery and the muted hum of conversation folding around them. Lux leaned back, watching the sunlight catch the rim of his cup, already thinking about the day's next move when Sira glanced at him.

"The mansion. Give me the address," she said casually, as if she were asking for more wine.

Lux arched a brow. "Unnecessary."

She didn't blink. But yes, that face clearly said 'Now'.

With a quiet sigh, he set his fork down and said, "9742 Elysian Ridge Drive. Beberly Hills mansion."

Her lips curled into a slow smirk. "Just watch."

She opened her palm. A black butterfly materialized there, wings like folded ink, each movement scattering a faint shimmer of shadow. It reminded Lux of his Corvus, though hers carried a subtler menace, less predator and more executioner. While Corvus more chaos and messy.

"This," she said, eyes on the creature, "is one of my servants."

The butterfly gave a silent flutter, and in the next heartbeat, it dissolved into a ribbon of dark aura and streaked away, vanishing before it hit the far wall.

"What did you tell it?" Lux asked, though he was already guessing.

"Take over the mansion. Kick everyone out. Decorate it to my standards."

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "You're crueler than me."

"I know," she said, picking up her glass again with a graceful shrug. "And I'm proud of it."

"Of course you are."

"Anyway, since we are waiting…" She set the wine down, tilting her chin toward the restaurant's entrance. "Wanna play?"

Lux followed her gaze.

Two girls stood just outside the open archway, still within the hotel's gleaming marble confines.

One was in the middle of a soft, practiced cruelty—posture forward, voice low but sharp, her mouth curled in a smile that wasn't one. The other… didn't push back. She shrank under it, eyes cast down, hands fiddling with the strap of her bag like it was the only anchor she had.

The problem was obvious, and not just in the dynamics.

The girl being bullied had that particular fragility that some men romanticized—a helplessness they thought would make them feel strong.

Lux didn't buy it. Weak partners didn't last. They broke, or worse, became a liability.

Sira's mouth tightened in a way that was more instinct than expression. "That," she said, voice low and deliberate, "insults my pride. My instincts are… tingling."

Lux leaned back in his chair, one brow lifting. "You want to meddle with mortal problems?"

"Yes," she said without hesitation. "We're on vacation. Nothing beats real-life mortal drama."

He gave a short, amused exhale. "I'm not a fan of drama. Especially this. "

"Then watch me."

Her smirk was all the answer he needed.

Sira didn't rise immediately. Instead, she flicked her wrist, and a second black butterfly shimmered into existence in her palm—smaller than the one she'd sent to the mansion, but its wings pulsed faintly like it was breathing.

"Go," she murmured, releasing it into the air. It darted forward, silent as a shadow, circling the two girls in the lobby before settling high above them on the ornate wall sconce.

A moment later, a twin butterfly appeared on the table between her and Lux, its wings opening and closing in a slow rhythm.

Lux glanced at it, then at her. "Receiver?"

She smirked. "Eavesdropper."

He shook his head, picked up his croissant, and bit into it. "I'll need another coffee if this turns into a soap opera."

The butterfly's wings pulsed again, and the voices filtered into the space between them—clear, as though those two girls were sitting at the next table instead of across the lobby.

"…you're always playing the victim, Dolly," the first voice—sharp, controlled, the kind that had been honed on a lifetime of social combat—bit out.

"Mia… I'm not—" the second voice cut in, softer but with a sly undertone, "—I'm just saying you overreact to everything."

Lux sipped his coffee, already guessing where this was going.

Mia's tone spiked. "Overreact? You took everything I've ever wanted. Everything. And you smile while you do it. My apartment? You 'needed' it when your lease was up. My job? You applied behind my back. And now—" her voice caught on a ragged edge "—now it's him."

Sira's eyes narrowed in intrigue, glancing briefly toward the two girls outside.

"Oh, please," Dolly's voice oozed with feigned innocence. "It's not my fault he liked me better."

"You slept with him, Dolly!" Mia snapped. "You knew—you knew I was in love with him."

Lux raised his brows slightly. Yep, soap opera.

There was a pause, then Dolly's voice came again, dripping with mock hurt. "He came to me, Mia. He said you were too… uptight. That you didn't know how to make him feel wanted. What was I supposed to do?"

"Say no!" Mia's voice cracked, the first hint of real pain bleeding through the anger. "You could have told me, but instead, you hid it—until I walked in and saw you both—"

Lux chewed his croissant slowly, appreciating the flakiness even as the scene unspooled.

Sira frowned, clearly annoyed since it didn't sound like she predicted.

Dolly's reply came, cool and dismissive. "He seduced me first. If anyone's guilty, it's him. And you should be angry at him, not me."

"Oh, I am," Mia said, voice low and trembling, "but you—you—made it easy for him."

Sira exhaled slowly, setting down her wine glass. "Pathetic. Both of them."

Lux gave her a sideways look. "You're interested."

"I'm invested," she corrected, a hint of heat in her voice. "One pretends to be a victim so she can take what she wants without getting her hands dirty. The other thinks rage alone is enough to make her right."

"Mortals," Lux muttered, "and you wonder why I don't like drama."

"You don't like drama when it's pointless and doesn't make you money," she said, the butterfly's wings still pulsing between them. "But this? This is a new type of entertainment."