Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 599: The Dip is Dipping

Chapter 599 – The Dip is Dipping

Lux turned his head as much as the ropes allowed. The wards hummed faintly in response, a gentle warning pulse that said don’t even think about it. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, painting gold across the dark wood floor and the edge of the massive bed where he was very much restrained like a dangerous artifact someone forgot to put a warning label on.

Rava stepped into view.

She didn’t rush. Her hair was tied loosely over one shoulder, still slightly damp, as if she’d just come from the bathhouse. She wore a simple robe, sleeveless, tied at the waist, the fabric clinging just enough to remind him that yes, she was unfairly attractive even when doing domestic things that absolutely did not include tying demon CFOs to beds.

Behind her, several tentacles unfurled with quiet grace.

One held a basin of warm water that steamed faintly. Another carried folded cloths. Another balanced a tray with breakfast. Soup. Thick, nutritious soup, the kind Mira insisted on when someone’s mana channels had been torn apart. A side plate of protein. Eggs. Meat. Something charmed to replenish stamina. And notably...

No coffee.

Lux’s heart broke a little.

Rava smiled when she saw his eyes open.

"Lux," she said softly. "You’re awake."

He stared at her for a second too long.

"Rava," he said. "Untie me. I’m bored."

She paused.

Slowly set the tray on the bedside table. Carefully placed the basin on a low stand. Her tentacles moved with deliberate calm, like she was performing a ritual.

Then she looked at him.

Still smiling.

"Still talking like that?" she asked, tone light, teasing. "I thought you wouldn’t beg."

He scoffed immediately. "I’m not begging."

Her brow lifted just a fraction.

"I never beg," he added quickly. "I usually don’t beg. This isn’t begging. This is... a professional request."

She hummed, picked up a cloth, dipped it into the warm water, wrung it out slowly.

Lux watched her hands. Her tentacles. The calm precision of someone who absolutely knew she had the upper hand.

"It’s work related," he said, trying again. "It’s urgent. Look at the charts."

He flicked his gaze meaningfully toward the hovering projections above the bed. Red. So much red. Lines dipping. Then dipping again.

"They’re red," he insisted. "Rava. They’re red-red. Even the dip is dipping. Have a spare on those investors. They’re panicking. It’s going to enter a bearish market soon. I need to do something!"

Rava didn’t even look at the charts.

She walked closer, sat on the edge of the bed, and gently pressed the warm cloth to his shoulder.

Lux hissed quietly despite himself. Not pain exactly. Just sensitivity. His body might have been repaired, but his nerves still remembered being torn apart in that infernal network.

"Don’t blame us for that," Rava said calmly, wiping dried blood from his collarbone. "First, you locked us out because you wanted to kill Zoltarin."

Lux opened his mouth.

She continued.

"Then we finally got in, and what did we see?" Her voice stayed even, but there was an edge now. "You bleeding like crazy. Dying. Literally dying, Lux."

"I wasn’t—"

"We were panicking," she said, eyes flicking up to his. "Naomi couldn’t even feel your pulse properly. Mira was boiling herbs like she was at war. Lullaby..."

Her voice softened for just a moment.

"Lullaby was shocked. She cried."

Lux swallowed.

Rava wiped lower, careful around his ribs, her fingers warm against skin that still tingled faintly with residual healing. "And Sira?" she went on. "She was furious. Absolutely furious. Not because you scared us. Because you scared Hell."

Lux winced.

"You got rest for a day," Rava continued. "One. Day. You drank an elixir so rare it’s stored behind three warded vaults, used your Dark Healing like it was some kind of mana flex, and then what did you do?"

She flicked her gaze up, sharp. "You worked. Again."

Lux glanced away.

Rava didn’t let up. "She explained to us," she said. "Sira. Calmly, which somehow made it worse. She told us exactly what happened. What you actually did. Fixing damage Zoltarin had been seeding for centuries. Not years. Centuries, Lux. And you did it in one night."

She paused. Looked at him fully now.

"In that state. You were literally still bleeding!"

Lux pressed his lips together.

"You deserve the tie," Rava said flatly. "No wonder Sira used her ancient family Pride rope. She doesn’t bring that thing out for fun. That rope is older than some bloodlines."

He exhaled slowly through his nose.

She wasn’t wrong.

And he hated that.

Lux sighed.

"In my defense," he said carefully, "I did it because I didn’t want some intel broker, or ambitious demon, or one of my haters to grab it and become another Zoltarin."

Rava stopped wiping.

Looked at him.

"You did it," she said slowly, "while you were dying."

"No, I wasn’t," Lux replied automatically.

Her stare did not change.

"...Okay," he cringed. "Okay. Kinda. But not dying-dying. I was just still in recovery."

She resumed wiping, unimpressed. "You couldn’t even sit up without Corvus swearing at you."

"That’s his love language."

"That is not a defense."

He sighed again. "But there was no need to tie me up like this."

She finished cleaning his chest, then reached for another cloth, this one cooler, wiping his face gently. Her touch was firm but caring. No teasing now.

"What were you planning to do if we released you?" Rava asked.

Lux hesitated.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Work, right?"

He opened his mouth.

"You said it yourself," she continued. "You’re on vacation."

He closed it.

Because yeah.

She was right.

Again.

He stared up at the ceiling, jaw tight, watching the red lines slowly stabilize without his input. It was torture. Actual torture. He could feel the market breathing, feel the panic rippling through Hell and Heaven alike, and he couldn’t touch it.

For someone like him, that was worse than pain.