Chapter 26 – You’ll Chase
The doors parted like a curtain at the start of a fashion show—silent, graceful, and deeply intentional.
Ten won stepped through.
Not girls. Not just "guests."
No—this was a squadron of power-draped royalty with bank accounts fat enough to buy out half the continent and still have pocket change for private islands.
And at the head of that little procession?
Mira Xianlong.
Behind her. Nine heiresses. The elite. The ruthless. The beautifully bored.
The scent of perfu and supremacy filled the room—spiced florals, powdered moonstone, leather and citrus, all layered over ambition thick enough to choke a mortal man.
But they weren’t heading inside just yet.
Because a few of them paused.
Their eyes drifted toward the outdoor terrace—the glass wall revealing the city’s skyline...
And a man.
Seated like a prince carved by temptation itself.
Sharp jaw. Collar undone just enough. Sleeves rolled to expose veined forearms. That posture—not too stiff, not too relaxed. Like he knew his worth and didn’t need to explain it.
Lux Vaelthorn.
To most of the won entering... he didn’t look human.
He looked exclusive.
A limited-edition black card wrapped in a luxury body. The kind of man brands begged to endorse, but only if he didn’t look at them with those eyes—the kind that strip them to the bone with one glance and make them want to be stripped.
He looked like secrets dressed in sin.
And right now? He was sipping red wine and listening to Naomi Delacour like the world didn’t dare interrupt him.
The first to speak was Rava Bluewave, a kraken woman. Tall, sea-glass eyes, her heels made of pearl-embedded shell. She stopped walking. Her tongue clicked.
"You said this was an exclusive all-girls’ dinner," she said, her voice cool and fluid. "So... why is that man there?"
Her gaze didn’t waver. Her pupils narrowed a bit—just a bit. If anyone looked close enough, they’d catch a shimr at the tips of her fingers. The faintest curl of... sothing. Tentacles. Surging to the surface from beneath her skin when her interest spiked.
She didn’t even an to let them stir. It was involuntary.
Because that man?
That man was dangerous.
Mira gave the faintest of smiles. "Special case," she said breezily. "He’s going to pay our bills tonight."
That made a few of the won glance at her sideways.
Fiera Ninevyn’s fox ears twitched once. She narrowed her eyes—soft irises frad by layers of mascara so perfect it hurt.
"More importantly..." she said, her voice velvet and sharpened steel, "why is Naomi Delacour here?"
Everyone followed her line of sight.
Naomi. Sitting across from him. Legs crossed. Hair flowing like a perfu comrcial. Smiling.
"Is he Naomi’s new pet?" Fiera asked, tone soaked in mock interest. "The reason she kicked off Carson?" She gave a little pout. "Sha. I actually wanted to see that wedding fail on the altar."
Lux tilted his head slightly.
From this distance, he heard everything.
Elyndra Vireleth said nothing at first. She didn’t need to.
High Elf blood made her movents liquid. Regal. Her long silver-blonde hair fell down her back. She stood still at the rear, eyes locked on Lux like she was appraising property that should’ve been offered at auction, not taken by a single bidder.
"I don’t think he’s hers," Elyndra said finally, her tone almost too neutral. "He doesn’t look... contained."
And Lux felt all of them watching him.
That stare. That hunger. That silent calculation.
He wasn’t stupid.
These won weren’t naïve debutantes.
They were trained to dismantle businesses with a well-tid smile. They were taught to flirt like weapons and seduce like lawyers—clause by clause.
But what they weren’t prepared for...
Was wanting soone they didn’t already own.
Because Lux?
Didn’t look available.
Didn’t look like soone they could hire, seduce, or threaten.
He looked like the devil who walked into a room, flipped the valuation chart, and said "You’ll chase ."
And oh gods, were so of them already halfway there.
Rava’s fingers twitched. She quickly clasped her hands behind her back—tentacles retreating.
She didn’t need to look again. She wanted to.
That man’s body. The cut of his suit. The way his wrist moved when he lifted that wine glass.
Everything about him scread limited stock.
The kind of luxury that whispered ’You can’t afford this—but you’ll try anyway.’
Fiera licked her lip once, then caught herself.
Her nine tails gave one subtle flick beneath her skirt.
She wasn’t here for a man.
She wasn’t.
But that collarbone?
That smirk?
That entire vibe?
She wanted to bend him backward in the back of her own boutique and ask what he looked like in fox-silk robes.
Just to see if he blushed.
And Elyndra?
She remained silent.
But her mind had already listed five reasons why Naomi’s proximity ant nothing.
It was politics. It was PR. It was power.
It wasn’t love.
Because Lux Vaelthorn didn’t look like soone who belonged to anyone.
He looked like soone you fought wars to earn.
And if not wars—at least one exceptionally illegal real estate buyout.
The won moved further into the restaurant now, heels ticking against marble like a countdown.
Rava leaned into her as she passed. "Where’d you find him?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
"I didn’t," Mira replied. "He found himself here. By accident."
Rava scoffed softly. "Nothing about that man looks like an accident."
Fiera lingered by the wine bar, pouring herself a drink she didn’t touch. Her gaze kept drifting.
To him.
To Naomi.
She murmured under her breath, "That girl always gets the good ones. Even when she’s not trying."
Elyndra said nothing. She took a flute of sparkling fae wine from a tray and moved to a high-backed seat... with the perfect view of the terrace.
Lux, anwhile, hadn’t said a word.
He just raised his glass to Naomi.
"Looks like the guest list is expanding," he said with a small smirk.
Naomi glanced sideways, then took a sip of her own wine. "And all interested in you."
He raised an eyebrow. "Really? I hadn’t noticed."
She gave him a flat look.
He laughed. "Okay. I noticed."
From the corner of his eye, he saw Mira re-enter the terrace. Not alone this ti.
The girls followed her slowly—half curious, half pretending not to be. They ca in pairs or threes, sipping drinks, laughing too loudly, brushing their fingers through perfect hair.
Lux didn’t stand.
He didn’t need to.
He just sat there—sprawled, radiant, relaxed—like sin wrapped in silk.
Naomi leaned toward him. "You ready for this?"
Lux tilted his glass again. "Born ready. But remind —this is still dinner, right?"
Naomi smirked. "Oh, you sweet sumr devil. No. This is a battlefield."
And with that—
The heiresses descended.
Let the seduction gas begin.
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