Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 660: Gone

Lux stepped forward.

He didn't run. Didn't lunge. He didn't need to.

He simply reached out… and placed a hand on Vincent's shoulder.

Firm. Gentle.

Vincent barely felt it.

But suddenly?

He felt… wrong.

His limbs weren't cold. He wasn't dizzy. No pain. No physical sensation.

But something was missing.

Gone.

A sliver of soul? No.

A whisper of luck? Maybe.

Or just that primal sense of stability… that anchor that told you the world was still under your feet.

And then… Ping!

His phone vibrated.

That specific tone.

The one everyone in finance knew.

That high-pitched, gut-punch chime from his investment app.

The bad one.

The "you're fucked now" one.

Vincent fumbled the phone from his pocket with sweaty fingers, unlocking it with a stuttered face scan.

And there it was.

Red.

Everywhere.

His assets… plummeting.

Crypto holdings? Gone.

Liquid cash? Vanished.

Portfolio? Free-falling like a cursed rollercoaster.

Company shares? Red candles. Red cliffs. Red panic.

His mouth went dry.

His fingers tapped. Refreshed. Checked other platforms.

No glitch.

No hack.

No mercy.

"W-What the hell," he whispered, voice cracking. "What— what the hell?!"

He turned, eyes wide, breath shaking. "Did… did you do this?!"

Lux tilted his head slightly. The same way a cat might watch a mouse spin in circles.

Then he smiled.

Not polite. Not smug.

Wicked.

"Oh," he said, voice warm and dripping with poison. "Absolutely."

Reporters gasped.

Flashes fired again.

Mira raised a hand to her lips to hide her smile.

"You… you can't—" Vincent choked. "You can't just bankrupt someone—"

Lux chuckled, a sound that made the lights above seem to dim for a second.

"I can," he said. "And I did."

He turned then. Calm. Slow. And looked straight at the cameras.

Cameras that had been watching this whole time.

Cameras that had caught the name, the scandal, the collapse.

Cameras that belonged to networks that, just hours ago, became his.

Lux smiled, eyes gleaming.

"I could make anyone who tries to oppose me bankrupt."

Not loud.

Not shouted.

Just spoken.

Firm. Casual. Truth in silk.

"I could end your market value over lunch," he said, letting the crowd hear. "I could buy your loyalty, or buy your enemies and let them destroy you."

He looked back at Vincent, who was now trembling.

"And I don't need to raise my voice to do it."

He stepped closer again, voice softer now, for just him.

"You pretended to be me," he said. "Used my name. My image. My influence."

He leaned in. "You used my reputation to sleep with people."

Vincent's voice was a croak. "I— It was just a game—"

Lux's expression turned cold. "I'm not a game."

And then louder, to the crowd…

"So please," he said, smiling again, "think twice before playing with me."

The ballroom froze.

People didn't even dare sip their drinks.

And Mira?

She was glowing inside.

Because this was the real Lux.

Her Lux.

The one who wore suits like armor and could destroy an empire with a casual shrug.

The one who didn't just own wealth, he embodied it.

She stepped beside him. Took his glass. Sipped from it. Then gave it back.

Lux looked down at Vincent again. No pity. No patience.

Just finality.

"Leave," he said.

Vincent didn't argue.

He ran.

And no one stopped him.

Because everyone was too busy watching Lux Vaelthorn own the room without ever lifting his voice.

His words still echoed. 'I could make anyone who tries to oppose me bankrupt.' And yet, when he turned, the terrifying glint in his eyes was just… gone. Like it had never existed. Like the fire had cooled and been bottled behind that buttoned-up charm all along.

The predator vanished.

And in his place?

The CFO of Greed Inc.

The heir of infernal economics.

The very public, very dangerous, very flawless Lux Vaelthorn.

Lux exhaled, slow and easy, as if he'd just ended a boring conversation at lunch. He turned toward the guests, adjusted his sleeve, and smiled.

A charm smile. The one that could sell investments and sins in the same breath.

"Forgive the interruption," he said, voice warm now. Controlled. Casual. "I do hope that little spectacle didn't ruin your evening."

There was silence for a beat too long.

Then scattered laughter. Nervous at first, then collective. Like people were convincing themselves that this had been a performance. Some brilliantly staged act by the Lux they'd all heard rumors about.

Please let it be theater. Please let it not be real.

"Please," Lux continued, his voice as smooth as the black velvet that hugged his frame, "carry on."

And just like that, he turned and extended his hand to Mira.

Not rushed. Not urgent. Just… offered.

Mira didn't hesitate. She placed her fingers in his palm with the same ease she used to sign billion-dollar mergers. Her heels clicked as she descended the stage beside him, her steps perfectly in sync with his.

The crowd parted.

No one asked questions. No one dared.

The reporters followed with their eyes, but not their mics. Their mouths were open, but their voices stayed shut. The atmosphere was velvet-thick, clinging to everything.

Once they were away from the stage, back near the entrance, where the music had resumed and new champagne was pouring, Mira finally spoke, voice just low enough to be private.

"The media," she said, eyes flicking toward the floating cameras, enchanted drones, and live-scrying orbs humming like bees in the corners. "Are they yours?"

Lux didn't break stride. "Yeah."

"You brought them?"

"I bought them," he corrected, smiling faintly. "Technically. Earlier this afternoon."

Mira blinked. "So you… invited your own execution squad to watch your show."

He chuckled. "Reputation management. I couldn't risk someone filming only half the story. You saw him. He was reckless. Desperate. I needed full narrative control."

He let go of her hand, only to adjust his cuff again. It shimmered with gold threading, nothing excessive, just enough to remind you the fabric cost more than your rent.

"I don't want to wake up to someone banging on the mansion gates with a swollen belly and a paternity claim."

Mira laughed. Loudly.

People turned.

She didn't care.

"You're disgusting," she said, grinning.

"I'm careful," Lux replied.

"You're paranoid."

"I'm experienced."

Mira tsked. "And you're not going to press charges?"

Lux looked bored. "Why bother? He's already lost everything that matters."

She gave him a long look. "You really did bankrupt him."

"I unplugged him," Lux said simply. "He was leeching off my name. My aura. My brand."

Mira raised a brow. "Your aura?"

He gave her a look. That look.

"You know what I mean."

She did. And her lips twitched.

Lux took two flutes of champagne from a passing tray, handed her one.

"To damage control," he said.

Mira took the glass but didn't drink right away. She studied him. That red glint from earlier still lingered faintly at the edge of her memory. And yet, here he was again, calm, clean, polished.

"You know," she said slowly, "when you walked in… there was a moment."

"A moment?"

"You scared me."

Lux's smile turned genuine. "Good."

She sipped. "Show me again sometime."

Lux raised his drink, tapped it gently against hers, and murmured,

"Darling… I never stopped."