Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Chapter 488 – Devil’s Dance

Lux and Sira sat in silence.

The car moved smooth and low along the coastal road, each curve cutting through a horizon smeared with dying sunlight and cold blue waves. The windshield reflected flecks of fading gold, but inside?

It was tense.

No music. No banter. No smirks.

Just air.

Dry and too still. Like the breath right before a courtroom verdict. Like the moment between hunger and bite.

Lux gripped the wheel tighter. Not out of panic—he didn’t panic—but something deep in his gut twisted like a bad contract clause. Something was off. Everything about that auction, that woman, that circlet.

Sira didn’t speak either.

Which meant something.

She usually filled the air with soft threats or sin-laced jokes. Or teasing fingers. Or bold declarations of how she was going to ride him into a coma when they got home.

But now?

She just held the pearls.

Ariel’s pearls.

The ones the Delmars auctioned off like pretty souvenirs. Each one was a tear, a trauma, a fucking scar pressed into a gem.

Yeah, she stole them.

When?

Even Lux didn’t know.

Sira finally shifted. The pearls clinked softly in her palm.

She turned to look at him, eyes sharp, mouth parted like she was about to say something serious. Then, instead, she reached for the console and flicked the audio knob.

Old music filled the space.

Strings. Piano. Devil’s Dance.

A classical piece—slow at first, then swelling like a storm with gold-tipped violins and a heartbeat drum only demons could follow. It was a song made for war courts and ballroom deaths.

”You look like you want to wipe a nation,” Sira said.

Her voice was soft, almost affectionate. But there was nothing playful in it.

Lux’s hands stayed on the wheel. He didn’t look at her. Not yet.

”I do,” he said flatly. ”Because I don’t get it.”

Sira frowned.

”Don’t get what?”

”That greed,” Lux muttered. ”It’s different.”

His voice cracked around the word different, like it didn’t want to sit on his tongue. He tightened his grip again, leather creaking under his palm.

”She changed,” he continued. ”Lylith. Her aura. Her scent. Her price.”

Sira turned fully now. Her thigh brushed against his arm.

All he felt was confusion clawing under his ribs.

”She didn’t reek of mortal anymore,” he said. ”She reeked of... old Greed. But not mine. Not Dad’s. Not even the Vault Court’s signature. It was...”

He trailed off.

Sira didn’t push.

The violin climbed higher, slicing through the tension like glass.

Finally, Lux inhaled—slow, long, steady. It tasted like the inside of a judge’s chamber. Cold, processed, too clean to be real.

”The circlet,” he said. ”It didn’t feel infernal. But...”

Sira blinked. ”What?”

”My system gave me limited info,” Lux said.

Now she was sitting up straighter. ”Your system never glitches.”

”Exactly.”

Sira swore under her breath. Lux glanced sideways, just enough to see her fingers curl tighter around the pearls. Her Pride aura, usually loud and biting, was... restrained.

”What does that mean?” she asked.

”That someone... something... doesn’t want me to know.”

They hit a patch of uneven road. The car jolted slightly, and the pearls in Sira’s palm shimmered like a broken reflection.

Lux exhaled again.

”And the ruby,” he said slowly. ”On the circlet. It’s not normal. I’ve seen something like it before.”

Sira turned, her tone sharp. ”When?”

He shook his head. ”I don’t remember. That’s the problem. It’s like... static in my head. It’s like when you know a number, but your mouth forgets it.”

”That’s not like you,” Sira said quietly.

”I know.”

He snapped a little at that. Then sighed. Pinched the bridge of his nose. He hated that he forgot. He never forgot. Not contracts. Not faces. Especially not rare artifacts. He was the Prince of Greed. His brain categorized value the way others categorized feelings.

And this?

This wasn’t just value.

This was something buried.

She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. ”Where did you see it?”

”If I remembered,” he muttered, ”I’d drag you with me right now to the origin.”

Her lips quirked at that, but her eyes didn’t smile. ”It’s not like you to forget expensive things.”

”I know,” he growled.

A pause.

Then he added, quieter, ”But this one... feels like when I was a child. Before the Vaults. Before the infernal accounts.”

He stared at the road.

”It feels ancient.”

Silence again.

Sira leaned back into her seat, the movement slow, thoughtful. Her arm crossed beneath her chest, pearls still in hand, as she stared out the window.

The music played on. Devil’s Dance reached its peak.

”Do you think she’s cursed?” Sira asked suddenly.

Lux blinked. ”Who?”

”Lylith.”

He didn’t answer right away.

Was she?

No. That wasn’t the right word. Cursed implied a loss of agency. Lylith had too much. Her aura had warped, yes. Her ambition had sharpened. But she was still acting like herself. Just... dialed up.

”Not cursed,” he said finally. ”Used.”

Sira nodded slowly.

”She really wanted you,” she said. ”And not just to fck. She wanted you. Your system. Your aura. She kept flaunting her neck, Lux. That’s not normal.”

”I know.”

”She kept calling you ’Lux’ like it tasted expensive.”

”It does taste expensive,” he muttered.

She snorted. ”I’m being serious.”

”So am I.”

He glanced at her finally. Her hair caught the red shimmer of the setting sun, casting her face in soft gold and malice. Even now, her Pride aura shimmered like it was coiled around a dagger.

She wasn’t jealous.

She was curious.

And maybe a little scared.

Lux slowed the car as the road twisted uphill, the Vaelthorn estate only a few kilometers away now.

Sira broke the silence again. ”So what’s the plan?”

”Wait for Corvus.”

”If he makes it back.”

”He will.”

”You gave him permission to retreat.”

”Yeah,” Lux said. ”Which means if he does come back, it’s because he found something worth risking his wings.”

”And if he doesn’t?”

Lux didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

They both knew.