Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 475: Just Use Your Words

Chapter 475 – Just Use Your Words

Her lashes fluttered. Her voice came out small, like a soft cloud brushing across the surface of a lake.

"But I don’t like crowded places."

He stilled.

"I like you," she added, barely above a whisper. "And Sira. And now... Naomi. I like it here. I want to be with you. But..."

Her hand moved to grip his sleeve.

"...I don’t want crowded places. They suck my energy. It’s too loud. Too much. I don’t like it."

Lux just stared at her for a long moment.

Right.

She was Sloth’s daughter. Not lazy—never that. Just... wired differently. Stillness wasn’t weakness. It was protection. Crowds weren’t parties. They were emotional landmines.

He placed his hand over hers, warm and steady.

"Alright," he said finally. "That’s fair."

Her fingers tightened a little.

"But," he added softly, "if you ever need me—if you want company—you have to tell me. No silent suffering, Lulla. Just use your words."

Lullaby nodded, expression unreadable. Her eyes looked darker somehow. Vulnerable.

Then she tilted forward, leaned into him like a falling tree, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

No flair. No seduction.

Just her.

Soft, slow, and entirely overwhelming in the way she collapsed into people without warning. She smelled like sweet milk tea and vanilla sleep. Her body pressed against his like she was made to rest there.

He chuckled. "Alright, alright."

His arms circled her waist automatically, holding her like muscle memory. He felt the weight of her—not just physical, but emotional. She didn’t hug like normal people. She clung. Like a soul anchoring to a lighthouse in the middle of a storm no one else could see.

He pressed a kiss to her hair. "Lulla."

She didn’t answer at first.

Then—

"Carry me," she mumbled, voice barely audible.

He paused.

"I’m sleepy."

Of course she was.

He sighed, but the kind that came with affection—not annoyance. "You’re always sleepy."

She nestled closer. "So?"

"I’m wearing a suit."

"You look nice."

"Lullaby..."

"Lux..."

He groaned theatrically. "Fine. But if I break my back, I’m invoicing your father."

She hummed. "Put it on my tab."

He slipped one arm under her knees and the other around her back, lifting her like she weighed nothing at all—which was a lie. She felt like warmth wrapped in inertia, a sleepy creature made of soft limbs and emotional dependency. The second she was off the chair, her head dropped against his collarbone and she sighed like a dying princess. Drama included.

"Don’t drool on me," he muttered.

"I make no promises," she whispered.

Her breath was soft against his neck, and her entire body went heavier in his hold. That was her trick. The longer you held her, the more gravity she seemed to generate. Like her soul had extra weight it liked to share.

He adjusted her slightly, carrying her out of the dining room and past the polished hallway with paintings she never looked at. Her eyes were already closed. Her lips slightly parted.

"Where to?" he asked. "Bed? Couch? Bathtub?"

"Mmm..."

"You pick or I drop you."

"Your bed," she said, barely audible.

Lux stopped walking.

"Excuse me?"

"Your sheets are warm."

He closed his eyes, mentally calculating the consequences.

"And soft."

"...and?"

"I like your smell."

He opened one eye. "That’s cheating."

She didn’t respond.

He sighed again and kept walking.

When he finally laid her down on his bed, she curled instinctively to the side where he usually slept, nuzzling into the pillow like it still remembered his warmth. Her robe shifted, exposing one pale thigh and the curve of her back.

Lux adjusted the blanket over her and sat on the edge of the mattress.

"You’re trouble," he whispered.

She didn’t reply.

Her breathing was already slow. Deep. Like she’d returned to her natural habitat.

His hand hovered for a second, then gently brushed her hair away from her face.

"You’re not weak for needing quiet, you know."

She twitched slightly, eyes still closed.

"I know," she whispered.

He stood.

She grabbed his wrist.

"Don’t die today."

He looked down, surprised.

"I wasn’t planning to."

"Good," she murmured. "You still owe me a nap date."

And just like that, she drifted off.

Lux stood there a moment longer, watching the rise and fall of her breath, slow and steady like waves lapping at some forgotten shore.

Lullaby in his bed wasn’t strange anymore. It was just... real. The way she curled into his pillow like it was sanctuary. The way her fingers stayed slightly curled, even in sleep. The way her entire soul seemed to whisper stay.

He exhaled, long and quiet.

Yeah. That was so her.

He leaned in, brushing the loose strands of hair away from her face and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Nite, Lulla."

She didn’t respond.

Didn’t need to.

He tucked the blanket over her body with the kind of care that came from instinct, not effort. Sloth demons needed warmth. Safety. A low-pressure ecosystem. And Lux? Somehow, he’d become her ecosystem.

He shook his head at that thought, amused and a little doomed.

Then he straightened.

Time to prepare.

Because in a few hours, he’d be crashing a mortal auction with Sira on one arm and an infernal grin on his lips—and if they were going to crash it, they were going to own it. No chaos unless it looked like choreography. No blood unless it blended with wine. No war unless it came in heels and headlines.

So he walked to his personal wardrobe, the one behind the enchanted paneling—sleek black marble laced with infernal sigils. It hissed open as his mana brushed the seal, revealing a closet that looked less like fashion and more like a bank vault of tailored destruction.

He scanned the suits.

The basic black? Too funeral.

The navy infernal silk? Not bad. But too tame.

No. He needed something that screamed royalty, money, and danger in the same breath. Something that said ’I’m not here to shop, I’m here to own the building.’

And there it was.

He reached for it.