Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 657: Fake Bulge

Chapter 657 – Fake Bulge

Mira caught her breath, fanning her cheek with her fingers. "That was dramatic."

"I’m sincere."

"No. You’re rehearsed. But... entertaining."

Vincent leaned closer, his voice dropping just enough to make it intimate. "So, I amuse you?"

"For now."

She paused. Not because she was flustered. But because her brain was already calculating the layers.

This man wasn’t Lux.

But he wanted her to think he was.

Or maybe... he thought he could fool her.

Either way?

This would be fun.

She smiled sweetly, just enough to let the bait sparkle on the hook. "Drink?"

Vincent’s grin bloomed, victorious. His eyes gleamed like someone who thought he just seduced a dragon. And maybe that was true... if by seduction, you meant walking into a volcano because the fire looked pretty.

He didn’t know.

Didn’t realize.

That she was already playing him.

They walked together, easy and smooth, into the edge of the main lounge area, where servers moved like shadows through bodies and the gaps between chatter and flute glasses. Every eye they passed lingered for a second too long.

Not just because Mira Xianlong never brought dates to galas.

Not just because she was walking beside a man instead of surrounded by guards and velvet distance.

But because of him.

Because of them.

Vincent tilted his head toward her as they stopped beside a floating bar station that sparkled with blue crystal. "Elven rose tonic?" he asked smoothly, already pretending he knew the answer.

Mira raised a brow. "Something’s wrong?"

Vincent smiled, smooth. "I thought you preferred something with more bite."

Mira raised a brow. "Like most things in life, the sharper it is, the easier it disappoints."

Vincent let out a low chuckle, caught off guard but doing his best not to show it. "That’s a dangerous philosophy," he murmured, recovering fast as he handed her the correct glass with a charm-drenched smile. "But I like danger."

She took it. Sipped slowly. Watched him from behind the rim.

And the longer they stood there, the more attention they gathered.

Across the ballroom, one woman in a crimson wrap dress stared. Eyes narrowing. Lips twitching in displeasure.

Vincent noticed.

Ah.

The same woman who let him through the gate.

Now watching him laugh beside Mira like she didn’t exist.

Delicious.

But she couldn’t say a thing. Her husband stood right beside her, talking to another CEO. She clenched her clutch tighter, said nothing, and looked away with a jaw that could crack diamonds.

Vincent turned back to Mira, smug blooming just under the surface of his skin.

She was still watching him. Not in awe. Not even interested, really. But engaged. Focused.

This wasn’t passive observation. It was analysis. Calculated curiosity.

He decided to escalate.

Vincent leaned just a little closer, letting the space between them tighten like a drawstring. His tone dipped into something velvety. "You’ve drawn every eye in the room."

"They were already watching," Mira replied, casual. "You’re just the new toy."

He smiled. "Then maybe it’s time we gave them a story."

She raised a brow. "A story?"

Vincent looked toward the clusters of reporters subtly camped by the bar and balcony alcoves. "This many press for a fundraiser?"

"More than usual," Mira admitted, turning her glass. "But then again... the host is a friend of mine."

She paused. Looked at him with that exact too-sweet smile she wore when gutting opponents in court.

"Maybe," she said, "we should make an announcement?"

Vincent blinked. "What kind of announcement?"

Her tone was light. Airy. But laced with something sharp. "About us."

"Us?"

"There are a lot of reporters here," she said, circling the rim of her glass with one finger. "And you can’t keep yourself that mysterious forever, right?"

Vincent hesitated.

Just for a moment.

His stomach flipped once, the way it always did before he made a bet with stakes too high. His fingers curled subtly against the glass in his hand.

But then he remembered.

He wasn’t Vincent tonight.

He was Lux Vaelthorn.

And Lux didn’t flinch. Lux didn’t stall. Lux owned the moment.

Vincent took a breath. "Fine."

Mira smirked. That same sharp, amused smile. Like she’d just poked a wolf to see if it barked.

She turned, gesturing subtly to one of her bodyguards.

"Please inform the host I’ll be making a brief statement," she said. "Have the press moved toward the crystal podium."

The bodyguard nodded and disappeared.

Vincent stayed calm, riding the high of momentum. "Since you want an announcement," he said, stepping closer until they nearly brushed shoulders, "I suppose I should show a bit more... sincerity."

"Oh?" Mira said, glancing sideways.

"You know what I mean," Vincent said, adjusting his stance.

He took half a step back and shifted his hip slightly forward... just enough to draw attention.

And yeah.

There it was.

The bulge.

A not so subtle hint. A message.

He didn’t say a word.

Just let the positioning speak for itself.

Mira’s eyes flicked down.

And for a moment...

Just one moment...

She nearly lost it.

It took every ounce of dragonborn discipline not to laugh in his face. It was a fake. Clearly a fake. The real Lux would cry if he saw it.

She bit her lower lip. Hard. Almost too hard. A sharp exhale hissed between her teeth, her shoulders stiffening as she covered it with a sip of her drink.

He took it as flustered.

He thought he won.

Vincent tilted his head, smirking like a man who just sealed a billion-dollar deal and knew exactly how long he was going to enjoy spending it.

"Too forward?" he asked, low.

Mira’s voice was velvet-wrapped iron. "Fine."

And that was it. She could only let out that one word.

She couldn’t hold it anymore.

Not a full laugh, she had better control than that.

But something inside her cracked. A gleam of unfiltered amusement shimmered behind her eyes like sunlight under ice.

He really thought that worked.

She smiled, the kind that made emperors feel blessed and executioners feel forgiven. "I suppose... you do have your own kind of charm."

Vincent’s smile widened, completely unaware she was moments from dragging him into one of the greatest public mind games this city had seen in years.

He’d learn what happened when you tried to wear a king’s crown without the spine to hold it.

But for now?

She raised her glass and let it clink gently against his.

"To us."

And Vincent, glowing with victory, drank.