Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Chapter 479 – What The F?

Lux leaned back, one hand on the armrest, the other smoothing the line of his lapel.

And then—

He saw him.

Jeremy Delmar.

Standing near the edge of the auction platform, flanked by two assistants. Tall, handsome in a money-spent-well kind of way. Glossy brown hair. Too-white smile. And eyes?

Locked.

Right.

On.

Lux.

Shock. Pure, unfiltered ”what the fuck” stared back at him.

Lux gave him nothing.

Not a nod.

Not even a smirk.

Just that same calm deadpan, the kind that came from years of being born into a kingdom where affection was weaponized and love was something you bought in quarterly reports.

Jeremy’s mouth moved.

Lux read it perfectly.

”Why is he here?”

Sira casually adjusted her neckline.

”He’s looking,” she said under her breath, not even hiding her grin.

”Let him,” Lux replied. ”He thought he could isolate you.”

”Well,” she purred, ”I am very isolatable.”

”Not today,” Lux said. ”Today, we remind him what investment loss feels like.”

She laughed softly. ”Is that what I am now? A fluctuating asset?”

”No,” Lux said, eyes still forward. ”You’re the acquisition that tanked his portfolio.”

A pause.

Then:

”Sexy,” she whispered.

[Emotional Manipulation Level: Subtle. Passive Aura Effects: Fluctuating. Several nearby attendees now questioning their sexual alignment.]

Lux blinked. ”System...”

[Yes, sir?]

”Tone it down.”

[Apologies. You are radiating extreme ’touch me and regret it’ energy. Shall I activate Charisma Dampener?]

”No.”

[Understood.]

Lux closed his eyes for half a beat and inhaled through his nose.

Yeah. No helping it now.

The problem with being born a half Greed demon and incubus?

He was too good at restraint—until he wasn’t. Years of spreadsheets, infernal courtrooms, endless contract management, artifact valuation, and quarterly damnation reports... they dulled the Lust side of him. Blunted it under too many layers of corporate manners and hellish bureaucracy.

But it never left.

It just waited.

Like pheromonal napalm behind silk curtains.

And right now?

It was getting restless.

The room was already heavy with attention. But he needed more. Not chaos—control. If Jeremy Delmar wanted to flex status, if Mariell Delmar wanted to sniff around his aura like a gossiping vulture, then fine.

He’d let them taste him.

Just a little.

Lux tilted his head down slightly and focused—down through his chest, down into the second pulse beneath his bones. His incubus core. He didn’t unleash it. Just touched it. Whispered to it.

”Breathe,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone.

And the system heard him.

[Would you like to activate pheromonal output protocols?]

”Yes,” Lux said quietly. ”Set it at thirty percent.”

[Confirmed. Activating Incubus Pheromones at 30%. Projected effects: heightened arousal, weakened willpower, impaired logic processing in susceptible targets. Charisma aura doubled. Cloaking system still active. Proceeding.]

The shift was subtle.

At first.

Then—

The air moved.

Not literally. Not with wind. But something rippled across the room. Like scent, but not. Like gravity, but only for hearts and thighs. His pheromones seeped out, invisible and undeniable, coiling through the air like expensive perfume laced with addictive promise.

Across the aisle, the silver-braid MILF reached up and adjusted her bra again. Slowly. Like she forgot where she was.

The siren with the gold cuffs let her lips part and rolled her shoulder back—an instinctive mating signal among her kind.

Yeah.

That did it.

Lux opened his eyes.

Sira was already staring.

She grinned. ”Your pheromones...”

”Yes,” Lux murmured. His tone was even. His eyes were not. ”Jeremy wants to play.”

He looked up, gaze slicing across the hall.

”And I will give it to him.”

Because that’s when he saw her.

Mariell Delmar.

His sister.

Not in name, no. But in blood. The resemblance was there—sharp chin, glossy hair, that smug aura of inherited money and bored mischief. She was seated two rows back from the stage, draped in ocean-blue chiffon and sipping from a crystal glass like the champagne inside bored her.

But her eyes?

Locked on him.

Lux met her gaze.

And her lips twitched.

Oh, he knew that face.

When he was with Ariel. Her assumptions had been immediate. Ariel’s sugar daddy.

She hadn’t spoken then.

She didn’t need to.

Now?

Now she looked again.

And her pupils dilated.

Lux didn’t blink. Just stared back.

He let the 30% aura simmer—warm, velvet heat, lazy confidence oozing from every pore.

Mariell shifted in her seat.

Crossed her legs.

Slowly.

Good.

Let her remember that assumption.

Then let him break it.

Jeremy’s voice crackled over the mic.

”Welcome, esteemed guests, to the Delmar Auction House’s exclusive noon event...”

Lux barely registered the words.

His eyes swept the room like a wolf in a jewelry store. Every guest, every artifact case, every whispering mortal. The display shimmered softly over his vision, mana signatures pinging one by one.

Lux smiled faintly.

Sira leaned in, her thigh brushing his. ”So. Where’s the Lamia?”

He didn’t respond immediately.

Because just then—

It happened.

A ripple passed through the room.

Like power slithering under skin.

Every conversation paused. Heads turned. Even Jeremy stuttered slightly, mic feedback echoing like embarrassment.

And through the gilded arch?

She arrived.

Lylith Seravelle.

Queen of the Redscale Lamia.

Her arrival wasn’t loud.

It didn’t need to be.

She wore danger like diamonds.

Her body was tall, curved, and scaled in all the right places. Red and black shimmered along her waist and arms—royal colors laced into her flesh. Her dress clung like it was enchanted to fear disappointing her. Slitted down both sides. Sleeveless. Backless. And on her lips?

Blood-red.

Her tail slid along the polished floor behind her like a warning sign.

She didn’t flinch.

Didn’t pause.

Her eyes locked on Lux.

And she smiled.

A slow, devastating curve of lips that stopped hearts mid-beat.

Not because she wanted him.

But because she knew he was the only one worth looking at.

Lux stared back.

Expression calm.

But his pulse?

Yeah.

It skipped once.

Like recognition.

Like a mirror tilting back.

Sira’s voice beside him was low. Dangerous.

”She’s bold.”

”She’s a queen,” Lux replied. ”It comes with the scales.”

”You attracted her,” Sira muttered, half-smiling. ”With your pheromones.”