Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

A minute passed.

And then—

The bathroom door opened.

Sira strolled out like nothing had happened, dressed like herself again. Hair pristine. Expression bored. Yeah, she definitely used her teleportation skills to get back here and leave Dolly somewhere Lux didn't want to know.

She slid into the chair across from Lux, lifted his untouched second espresso, and drank it.

"I see you caused a crash," Lux said.

"More like a hostile takeover," she replied. "Very satisfying."

"I'd say you overplayed, but…" He gestured vaguely toward where the man had been. "Your closing move was clean."

"Please," she said, licking coffee foam off her lip. "You think I'd let a walking scandal outpace me?"

"You really did all that to escalate the drama?"

"Not only escalate." She leaned forward. "I restructured the entire narrative."

Lux blinked. Then laughed.

"You're insane."

"And you love it."

He sipped again, smirking. "Maybe. But I still wore the robe better."

Sira smirked. "I wore you better."

Touché.

Lux didn't argue. He just rolled his eyes and leaned back with the quiet grace of a man who'd accepted defeat, sipped his coffee like it was tax-deductible, and muttered under his breath, "She even walks better in my slacks."

And then—

The black butterfly fluttered back.

Sleek, silent, and trailing a faint shimmer of shadow, it floated lazily toward their table before settling on Sira's outstretched hand. The wings pulsed once—transferring its payload—and vanished into ash.

Sira smirked. "Pack your belongings."

Lux blinked. "Huh?"

"We're going to the mansion this afternoon."

He set his cup down slowly. "What did you do?"

She looked far too pleased with herself. "Better you don't know."

Lux narrowed his eyes, skeptical. "You didn't kill him… right?"

"Of course not," Sira replied, scoffing like the accusation was beneath her, as if murder was something messy commoners did, not demon royalty. She waved a hand, dismissive. "I just relocated him. Gave him a better deal abroad."

Lux tilted his head, suspicion growing. "Relocated... as in Bali, or banishment?"

"Relax," she said, patting his hand like he was being dramatic. "It was a real deal. Legitimate. Legal. Tidy."

His eyes narrowed further. "You sure? Because I know your version of 'relocation' can include mind-wiping, soul-swapping, and disguising a hit job as an investment offer."

She gave him a knowing look. "Carson's your first girl's ex, right?"

Lux stiffened. "Unfortunately."

"If he stuck around, he'd be a problem. You know that. Better to send him far away, tied to a contract so sweet he'd be an idiot to refuse—and too busy to come crawling back."

Lux let out a breath, pinched the bridge of his nose, and muttered, "Can't argue with that."

And he couldn't. As much as Lux loved keeping enemies close to leverage them when needed, Carson was a different breed of pest. The kind that clung to regret and couldn't stop poking sleeping beasts. At least, that was what Naomi told him.

Lux wasn't afraid of him. But annoyance was a cost—time, energy, focus—and Lux didn't waste assets. Especially not on emotionally damaged billionaires with wounded pride and too much access to microphones.

Besides…

There was nothing in the world that made a bankrupt billionaire run faster than a shiny new "business opportunity" in another country. Especially one promising redemption, anonymity, and offshore banking.

He could already imagine Carson boarding, smiling like he'd gotten away with something.

Meanwhile, Sira was back here writing the terms of his exit like she was authoring scripture.

She stood from her chair, brushing down the sleeves of Lux's shirt—still hers now, even though she'd returned to her female form.

"And I'll need to get my clothes," she said, already checking her nails like this was a casual side errand.

"I guess I'll have to arrange my servants," Lux muttered.

She paused mid-step, tilting her head. "Infernal servants?"

"Obviously. Using mortal staff is risky," he replied, swirling the dregs of his coffee. "Who knows—one morning you wake up, wings out, horns sharp, and suddenly someone's calling the media."

"Valid."

"And I know you. You might kill them."

While Lux preferred to "negotiate first, kill later", Sira didn't have that much patience for that.

Sira laughed, but nodded. "Makes sense. I was considering getting a few mortal chefs though. Their food's interesting. Weirdly experimental. I saw it from mortal social media. I think one of them tried to make a risotto with ghost pepper and sea foam."

Lux raised a brow. "And it didn't kill them?"

"They cried," she said with a little shrug. "But the plating was gorgeous."

He grinned. "Classic mortals. No defense, but aesthetic gods."

She winked. "Anyway, yes. No horns in front of them. We agree."

He sipped again, then said, "Thought you didn't like mortals."

"I don't like commoner mortals," she said without a trace of irony. "But their food? That's a different class entirely."

"Classist and proud. That's my Sira."

"And proud is my class."

She turned to leave, heels tapping against the marble as she headed toward the restroom.

"Oh, and Lux," she called without turning around, "tell your girls the mansion's ready. They've waited long enough."

He smiled softly. "Thanks."

She stopped, glanced back at him, and in one fluid motion, leaned down to press a kiss against his mouth. Warm, slow, and entirely unnecessary—but that was the kind of generosity only Pride demons knew how to wield.

Then—without another word—she stepped into the restroom.

And vanished.

Lux stared for a moment at the now-quiet hallway.

Yeah. She definitely wasn't using the restroom.

She was going back to the Infernal Realm.

The air even smelled different. Magic, sulfur, and something perfumed.

Lux returned to his room and leaned back in his chair, finally letting his shoulders drop. He pulled his system, thumbed through his servant list, and began arranging the relocation logistics. Infernal cleaning staff, servants, gate wards, perimeter security with celestial-grade detection.

There was something comforting about watching logistics unfold. Something stable.

He chuckled to himself.

Whoever thought demon politics were exhausting had clearly never tried onboarding new household staff.

"Guess I should tell the girls," he muttered.