Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 410: Not My Revenge

Chapter 410 – Not My Revenge

By the time they finished, the couch was draped in gowns, blouses, coats, even lingerie she hadn’t dared to touch but which the stylists whispered would "make her divine." Shoes lined the floor, glittering like weapons. The staff treated her like she was royalty; she just floated through the storm, still dizzy from the confrontation.

Finally, Lux strolled forward again. Hands in pockets, calm as a king visiting his treasury. "All of it," he said simply, his voice carrying finality that made the staff’s jaws drop.

"Sir—everything?" the stylist repeated, just to be sure.

"Yes. Everything. Bag it. Wrap it. Guard it if you must. She’ll take it all."

Ariel’s lips parted. "W-wait, I—"

"No arguments," Lux said smoothly, but there was an edge under the silk this time. "You’ll need them."

The transaction itself was almost obscene. The swipe of his black card lit up the terminal, numbers flickering so high Ariel felt faint just glancing at them. One stylist bit their lip like they’d just witnessed something indecent. Another whispered, "That could buy an estate."

Lux signed without even glancing at the receipt. Then he pocketed the card again, slow and deliberate, his jaw tight.

That was when Ariel noticed it.

The tension.

The way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. The way his hand flexed once before sliding back into his pocket. The faint muscle in his cheek ticking.

He wasn’t pleased.

Not even a little.

He looked like he was holding something back. Like a dam about to burst.

Ariel stepped closer, hands gripping the silk of her new skirt, her voice soft. "Lux... are you okay?"

He looked at her then, and for the first time since they’d entered, his mask slipped just a fraction.

"No," he said bluntly. "Clearly no."

Ariel blinked, startled.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, glancing aside for a moment before pinning her with that dark, velvet gaze. "I’m holding myself."

Her brows furrowed. "Holding yourself?"

"Yes." His voice was low, quiet, but it curled through her chest like smoke. "Because if I ended her here—" his lips curved into something dangerous, sharp as a blade—"the revenge wouldn’t taste half as sweet."

Her stomach dropped.

He meant Mariell.

"You..." Ariel whispered, "you wanted to—"

"Of course," Lux cut in smoothly, his tone almost casual, though the storm under it betrayed him. "I could have snapped her pride in half and walked out with her dignity bleeding on the floor. It would’ve been easy." He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing in that way that made people want to kneel or run. "But that’s not the point."

Her throat tightened. "The point?"

"It’s not my revenge," Lux said, softer now, but more terrifying for it. "It’s yours."

Ariel’s lips trembled, tears welling again despite herself.

He stepped closer, so close she could feel the warmth of his body, smell the faint spice and smoke clinging to his skin. His voice dropped, just for her. "I want you to be the one who makes her cry. Not me. You."

The words hit harder than any slap Mariell had ever given.

Ariel’s vision blurred. Her chest hurt. The idea—her, taking revenge? Not hiding, not cowering, but standing tall while Mariell broke instead? It was... impossible. It was terrifying. And it was... intoxicating.

"Lux..." she whispered, but then the tears came, heavy and hot.

She broke, clutching his shirt, hiding her face against his chest as sobs shook her. She hated herself for crying. Hated how weak it sounded. Hated how familiar it felt.

But Lux didn’t move away.

He just exhaled, one hand coming up to stroke her hair with surprising gentleness. "Hey, stop crying," he muttered, his tone somewhere between exasperated and fond. "Are you head filled with water or something?"

Ariel choked on a laugh-sob, pulling back just enough to glare up at him through wet lashes. "That’s... not funny."

"It was a little funny," Lux said, lips quirking into that smirk that both infuriated and reassured. He brushed his thumb across her cheek, catching a tear before it fell.

Her chest squeezed, and before she could stop herself, she hugged him again. Harder this time. Desperate, clinging.

He let her.

For a moment, the boutique around them didn’t exist. No stylists, no receipts, no stares. Just Ariel and Lux, the storm and the anchor, holding in a place she’d never imagined safety could exist.

And deep inside her chest, something new flickered. Not just pain. Not just fear.

A spark.

A spark of what revenge might feel like if she ever found the courage to claim it.

Lux, meanwhile, looked down at her, eyes dark and thoughtful, as if he could already see the moment it would happen. The moment she’d rise. The moment Mariell Delmar would finally weep, not Ariel. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

Ariel’s fingers tightened around his shirt, like she wanted to keep him there forever—close enough that no one could touch her, close enough that the past couldn’t reach her. His chest was warm, steady, unshakable. Her sobs still trembled through her body, but the rhythm was slowing, catching, shifting into softer breaths.

And then—

"Well, okay, what is this?"

Sira’s voice sliced through the room like a whip, all Pride and amusement.

Ariel startled, pulling back from Lux’s chest, cheeks flaming. She quickly looked away, scrubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand as if she could erase the tears before anyone else saw them.

Lux lifted his head lazily, his gaze sliding toward the doorway where Sira leaned, one hip cocked, arms crossed. Smug arcs, and her lips curved into that wicked grin that always meant trouble.

He sighed. "And why are you glowing?"

Sira chuckled, the sound low and velvety, dripping with wicked delight. "Oh, that? I just found an annoying man who thought flexing his money at me was going to work." She flicked an invisible speck of dust off her wrist, bracelets jingling like war trophies. "He tried to hit on me. Pathetic, really."

Lux raised an eyebrow. "And?"