Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 152: Not Just an Assassination
Chapter 152 – Not Just an Assassination
The dinner ended with less drama than Lux had expected.
Which, frankly, made him more suspicious.
They all said their polite goodbyes.
Mira lingered a bit longer than necessary, her gaze flicking between Lux’s lips and his eyes like she wanted to ask something but didn’t trust herself to survive the answer.
Elyndra gave Rava a long, questioning look before leaving with a subtle, noble nod in Lux’s direction.
And Fiera... Fiera muttered something about macarons, then vanished like a fox pretending not to have feelings.
Rava walked him to the door.
She still looked a little wrecked—eyeliner smudged at the corner, dress rumpled at the hips. But she owned it. Wore the afterglow like it was a designer scent only demons could afford.
He kissed her gently. Just a brush of lips.
But his gaze didn’t stay on her.
It moved.
Past her.
Right to the three girls pretending not to look back.
And when they caught his eyes—oh, they shivered.
Not because he smiled.
But because he didn’t.
He just looked.
Something about it was possessive without claiming, cold without cruelty. Like a promise written in the language of restraint.
Then he pulled away, whispered something in Rava’s ear that made her freeze for half a heartbeat, and walked down the stairs like he hadn’t just set half the table’s emotions on fire.
His motorcycle waited at the curb.
The machine purred under his hand like it recognized its master’s mood. The city lights reflected off its silver veins and demon-forged exhaust.
Lux slipped on his helmet.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t wave.
Didn’t look back.
The engine roared—twice—and he shot off into the neon-soaked streets like a bullet dipped in silence.
The roads were mostly empty this time of night. The hotel wasn’t that far. But he didn’t take the direct route. He never did. Instinct, maybe. Or habit. Or the fact that he didn’t trust the city’s peace to last longer than five minutes.
He should’ve been satisfied.
He’d exposed a noble.
Ruined another reputation.
Had Rava’s legs shaking around his waist.
That should’ve been enough for a Friday night.
But...
His gaze darkened behind the visor.
A soft blue light flickered across the inside of his helmet—system projection. Notification feed, scrolling gently like a polite death sentence.
One line stopped everything.
FROM: Celestial.Office @heavenlight.admin
TO: lux.vaelthorn @vaultnexus.infernal
Subject: Regarding the Upper Realm Incident – Priority Tier One
Mr. Vaelthorn,
Regarding the celestial incident, wherein you were ambushed in the middle of the Upper Realm Crown District.
Investigation has revealed layered interference with divine scrying protocols. A third-party spatial fold—independent from the Radiant Vow’s known constructs—was confirmed. The dimensional trap was not residual but designed. An isolated Limbo cluster was constructed with the apparent goal of either imprisoning or terminating you.
It has not yet been confirmed whether the Radiant Vow initiated this construction, nor whether the execution was unauthorized. However, the deployment’s intention was clear. Had the trap succeeded, your identity, contracts, and soul-state would have been effectively nullified across all bonded planes.
Furthermore, preliminary arcane residue indicates a high probability that your soul, should it have been captured, would have been utilized as leverage. Given that your infernal and interplanar contracts are soul-bound, such a maneuver would allow hostile actors to renegotiate, absorb, or sever said contracts at will.
This would constitute a catastrophic breach of multilateral treaties and precipitate widespread economic and metaphysical collapse within the shared realms.
We are continuing investigation under the Authority of Heavenly Balance. You are advised to reduce all cross-plane movement until further notice.
This is not a courtesy.
Sincerely,
Goddess Celestaria
High Custodian of Progression Paths, Upper Celestial Office
Lux exhaled slowly.
His fingers clenched the throttle. Not enough to rev. Just enough to crack the leather.
The tone.
The wording.
She only used that format when things were bad. Like, ’seraphim-breaks-the-window-and-smites-the-boardroom’ bad.
He’d heard "We are continuing investigation under the Authority of Heavenly Balance" exactly twice in his life.
Once when a minor god tried to claim his contract as leverage in a divine court.
And once when a vault exploded because of unpaid soul collateral.
Lux swallowed.
Hard.
"Shit," he muttered.
A flutter of feathers erupted beside him in a crackle of shadow.
Corvus appeared mid-air, shaking himself off like a bird who’d just flown through an interdimensional filing cabinet.
He didn’t land. Just hovered beside the bike, wings beating lazily in place.
’You seem upset, boss,’ he said directly into Lux’s mind, voice dry and amused like he’d just walked into a board meeting full of unpaid debts.
"I’m more than upset," Lux muttered.
Corvus tilted his head. ’Someone breathing down your neck again? I can still throw some chaos. Pretty sure Mira’s hedge fund hasn’t crashed yet.’
"It’s not that."
’Then what?’
Lux didn’t answer right away.
The light turned green, and he rolled forward, the engine humming in the quiet night.
After a beat, he said, "Upper Realm."
Corvus was silent for two full seconds. Rare.
Then.
’...Oh. Ohhh. Yeah, okay. That’s not great.’
Lux’s mouth was tight. "They built a fucking Limbo. A whole-ass pocket void. For me."
’That’s a lot of effort for one CFO.’
Lux huffed. "That’s the problem. It wasn’t just to kill me."
’No?’
He stared straight ahead, eyes focused but voice flat. "It was to erase me. Remove every signature. Void every contract. Unbind every stake I’ve planted across infernal and celestial planes. Wipe my soul off the ledger entirely."
He paused for a beat, jaw tight under the helmet.
"That’s what I thought, at first," he muttered. "But Celestaria said they may have had a second objective. To trap my soul... and use it as leverage."
Corvus clicked his beak sharply. ’Damn...’
A silence fell between them, broken only by the steady hum of the motorcycle and the wind howling past.
Then Corvus, voice low and thoughtful. ’That’s not just an assassination. That’s a redaction.’
Lux gritted his teeth. "Which means someone’s scared."
’Of you?’
"No," Lux said. "Of what I could become."
The wind howled around them as they slipped past another intersection. The hotel loomed in the distance, tall and sterile.
