Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 598: Bearish

Chapter 598 – Bearish

A silence followed.

One of the Virtue guards in the far corner finally coughed. "Forgive me, Lady Celestaria. But if Lux Vaelthorn truly held the interrealm contract key sigils, and if something has happened to him... we need contingency."

"Contingency?" Solara raised a brow.

Celestaria turned slowly, eyes blazing. "You think we can replace him? We barely kept the treaties stable with him doing half our work and charming the other half out of war."

"He hasn’t responded to your messages," Selena whispered.

"I know," Celestaria said quietly. "But I feel him. That thread... it hasn’t snapped. Not yet."

Solara stood, smoothing her robes. "Then we stall. We delay all updates. We issue silence until we know."

"And if Hell collapses in the meantime?" Selena asked.

Solara exhaled. "Then maybe they’ll finally learn they should’ve valued him better."

Back in the Mortal Capital, Lux Vaelthorn’s mansion was quiet...

Too quiet.

The kind of morning hush that didn’t belong in a home filled with dangerous heiresses, cursed treasures, and an absurd number of coffee cups.

Outside the main wing, the gardens glistened with dew. Wind chimes made from coins and soulsteel tags tinkled faintly in the breeze. The birds sang morning songs while cleaning their own feathers.

Inside, however, the servants moved like a well oiled war machine.

Silver trays floated through hallways. The kitchens bustled with infernal spiced stew, herbal teas, and charmed bread that would never burn. A maid polished the dark marble in the atrium while humming under her breath, blissfully aware that the master of the house, the infamous Hell CFO, was currently being held hostage in his own bed.

Normally, Lux was awake before the staff. Already halfway through an economic report, or doing ’pushups’, or at least charming a half-asleep Naomi.

But not today.

No. Today...

Lux was still in bed.

Not sleeping. Not recovering.

Just... tied.

With actual rope. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

Thick, knotted, reinforced rope soaked in Pride grade suppression ink. Blessed and woven through with Lullaby’s magic wards.

He’d woken up an hour ago. Which, honestly, had been the worst part. Because at first, it was soft sheets, gentle warmth, a hint of lavender in the air.

He couldn’t move.

Like, at all.

Not even roll over.

The rope wrapped around his chest, his arms, his thighs. His legs were slightly spread and pinned to the mattress with enchanted velvet cuffs. Tasteful. Pretty. Awful.

His jaw clenched. "Please... just a note..."

Nothing.

The infernal HUD blinked gently above him. Charts he could see, but not touch. Contracts he couldn’t adjust. Real-time trades. Panic reports. The market was still wobbling. Bearish. Fear index flickering. Investors crawling up every financial channel.

And he could do nothing.

His fingers twitched.

Then didn’t.

He wasn’t even cuffed with lust rope. No silk. No teasing. This wasn’t play.

This was punishment.

Real. Unfair. Pride engineered punishment.

He exhaled, glaring at the ceiling.

"This is worse than the hell pit of tax audits."

A small rune above the bed glowed softly. Lullaby’s spell. Probably watching his vitals. Monitoring his mana. Triggering his recovery if anything went wrong.

Which, clearly, was not the problem.

His body was fine. Not even a scar left. His brain worked. His systems weren’t fried. Just low.

They’d poured potions into him. Lullaby had worked her lazy healing formation under the bed.

Mira made soup so thick and bitter it probably scared death itself.

Ely had brushed his hair and whispered recovery chants while tucking the strands behind his horns.

He was pampered. Monitored. Bound.

And completely helpless.

"Corvus," he muttered. "I know you’re near. Let me out. Just... one arm. I’ll draft in my head. I swear."

Silence.

Then from somewhere in the hallway, muffled through the massive stone walls.

"No."

It was Lullaby’s voice.

Soft. Sweet. Absolute.

Lux groaned.

"I’m not going to move," he called back. "I just need to write one—"

"You’re always not going to move," Sira’s voice snapped from further down. "Until we blink, and you’re off launching lawsuits or killing legacy demons."

Lux struggled against the rope again.

It didn’t budge.

Pride-class. Of course it was.

He could feel the mana suppressors humming inside the weave. Every movement just strengthened the bindings. Lullaby’s ward flared once, warned him. He sighed and gave up.

"Please... one line. One note. One message to the board."

No reply.

"This is literal torture. I’m a victim."

Lux exhaled and dropped his head back into the pillow.

This was madness.

He’d survived Zoltarin. Killed him. Fought to the edge of death.

And now he was defeated by rope.

The chart above him blinked.

Another dip in the market.

His jaw twitched.

"Please," he whispered, staring at the graphs. "Just a ping... a disclaimer. One sentence."

He nearly screamed.

Corvus had already told Zavros. Of course he had. The Lord of Greed didn’t need confirmation, he could feel the shift himself. That sudden absence of power that once clawed at the edges of the Vaults, now gone. Not Lux’s signature. Zoltarin’s. Dispersed. Destroyed. Zavros didn’t say anything publicly, but everyone in the department knew he’d noticed something. How could he not?

And Lux’s mother... she had come the night after. Quiet. Composed. She entered the room, saw her son tied to the bed like a hostage from a luxury scandal, and didn’t even flinch. She simply looked him over, no visible wounds, just bound and half-glowing with suppressed mana, and turned to the girls.

"Please take care of him," she said gently. Then, after a pause, "Better."

And that was it. No drama. No scolding. She left like she had all the time in the world. And all the trust in them.

He bit the inside of his cheek.

Watched a transaction fall through on the screen.

Another company folding. Another investor panicking.

This was pain.

This wasn’t recovery. This was economic solitary confinement.

He breathed slowly.

Endured.

Waited.

And then...

He heard it.

The sound of a door opening.

Soft, slow.

Footsteps followed. Familiar weight. Confident gait. Each step closer.