Chapter 25 – Foreplay or Corporate Warfare
"You pay."
Lux blinked. "Excuse ?"
"You heard ," she said, arms folding neatly under her chest. "All the expenses. Tonight. Everything. How about that?"
Lux’s smirk returned, slow and sharp.
"I don’t mind," he said. "Like I said... my wallet regenerates."
Mira laughed. A real one this ti—rich and low, like sothing cracked open beneath her pride.
"Let’s see about that, Mr. Vaelthorn. So of my friends have high taste. You might not like it."
"Don’t worry about it," Lux said calmly. "I like being impressed. Or at least, mildly entertained."
With a flick of her tail and a last smug glance at Naomi, Mira turned toward the restaurant’s inner lounge. Her heels tapped like war drums over marble as she walked.
Lux sighed softly. "That one’s going to be a handful."
He turned back to Naomi.
She had already taken the seat across from him—straight-backed, elegant, still unreadable.
But her eyes softened as she looked at him.
"You okay?" she asked.
"I’m more than okay," he replied with a slow exhale. "Just wondering if that counts as foreplay or corporate warfare."
Naomi leaned forward slightly. "You won’t drain her wealth, right?"
Lux’s brow rose. "Why should I?" He tilted his head. "She just rode ."
Naomi exhaled—sowhere between relief and disbelief.
"She’s... unpredictable."
"You think?"
Lux gestured subtly toward the wine bottle, and the server—sharp and silent—stepped in imdiately. With practiced grace, she poured into both glasses, the deep red liquid catching the light like molten rubies. The soft clink of glass on glass was the only sound for a breath.
Lux glanced at Naomi as the server stepped away.
"You look relieved," he said quietly.
She didn’t deny it. Didn’t smile either.
Just let the rim of the wineglass linger near her lips, eyes lowered for a second—like the weight she’d been holding had finally shifted.
"I thought she was your enemy," he said.
Naomi looked up.
Then smiled—bittersweet.
"Mira?" she echoed. "No... she’s..."
A pause.
"My childhood friend."
Lux blinked. "You don’t look like childhood friends."
"That’s because we’re different," Naomi said, gently swirling her glass of wine. "Always have been."
She paused again, letting her fingers trail along the rim.
"She believes she can buy everything with money," she said, quieter now. "Including love."
"And you?" he asked, eyes not leaving hers.
"I don’t," Naomi said. "Money and love... they’re not the sa currency. I want soone who chooses because they feel it. Not because I’m the best return on investnt."
Lux raised his glass. "A dangerous philosophy in this economy."
Naomi clinked his glass gently. "So is trust."
He smiled. He couldn’t help it.
She really had co out swinging tonight.
"She’s probably going to bug you again," Naomi added after a sip. "She’s... stubborn."
"I can see that." Lux leaned back. "But that’s fine. I’ve dealt with worse. Demons. Divine HR departnts."
Naomi snorted. "HR?"
"Hell Regulation. You don’t want to know."
That got her to laugh—short and real.
"Anyway," Lux said, tapping the nu in front of him, "I haven’t ordered anything. You know I’m not from around here, so... I’m leaving it to you. Surprise . Order for both of us."
Naomi blinked. "Seriously?"
Lux nodded. "I want to be surprised. Worst case? I suffer through a bad al and get to bla you."
Naomi rolled her eyes. "Fine."
She waved the server over and began ordering with a fluid, confident tone. Lux leaned on his elbow and just watched her.
It wasn’t the food he was interested in.
It was how easily she spoke now. How comfortable she looked reclaiming control of the situation.
That, more than anything, made him realize—Naomi wasn’t just a rich girl running from an arranged marriage.
She was soone who had learned how to walk through fire while pretending it was a ballroom.
As the server left, Naomi looked back at him.
"All done. You’re getting sothing grilled, sothing glazed, and sothing that might bite back."
"Charming," Lux said. "Just like tonight."
She smiled.
And for a mont—just a sliver—everything was still.
The skyline glittered behind them.
And inside the gilded cage of the rooftop restaurant, the devil and the heiress sat at a table ant for power plays and quiet wars...
And yet—sohow—it felt almost like peace.
Almost.
Because then—behind the glass—movent.
But not Mira.
Not yet.
The restaurant’s staff moved with urgency now, adjusting lighting, fluffing seat cushions, setting up wine carts with nas Lux didn’t recognize but instinctively knew were disgustingly expensive.
A private room was being prepped.
Soft piano music filtered through hidden speakers, shifting from classic strings to modern jazz.
Lux glanced up. "So. Her friends?"
Naomi nodded. "Billionaires. Investors. Eastern cartel daughters. A few board-sitting grandsons. The usual."
A slow, wicked grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Interesting," he said. "I love money people. They make the air feel expensive."
"Welco to the world of inherited drama."
He chuckled, swirling his own wine. "You say that like you didn’t cause half of it."
She blinked, faux-innocent. "Did I?"
He gave her a long look, savoring her expression.
"You canceled a multimillion-dollar wedding, ran away to a hotel, flirted with a literal demon, and triggered a dragon’s ego in the span of a day."
Naomi shrugged, perfectly composed. "When you put it like that, sounds like I’ve been productive."
Lux leaned back in his chair, exhaling like he just unbuttoned the top of his power suit.
This wasn’t chaos.
This was his favorite kind of energy—dripping with wealth, whispered rivalry, and high-stakes ego gas under candlelight.
While Mira Xianlong might’ve stord in with claws out, and while the night still held a dozen ticking ti bombs wrapped in couture.
Lux Vaelthorn?
He felt right at ho.
That was when the system pinged.
[Warning: 10 rich heiresses detected within 15 ters.]
[Incubus Pheromones Activated.]
[You surely will have a great dinner, sir.]
Lux paused mid-sip.
Then finished the wine slowly, savoring the burn like it was the calm before a very expensive storm.
He set the glass down with a soft clink, leaned back just a little, and gave a slow exhale through his nose.
"Oh boy," he murmured, lips curving with dark amusent. "I’m gonna get sward, aren’t I?"
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