Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 88: BRIDE TO BE

Chapter 88 – BRIDE TO BE

Lux didn’t look back.

But he did laugh.

"Mortals," he muttered under his breath. "So easy to tease. So easy to beat."

His fingers flexed on the throttle as he took the next turn sharper, leaning in. The motorcycle responded like it knew exactly what he wanted.

And maybe—just maybe—it liked being bad too.

The underworld’s motorcycles were all power and threat—fire trails and mana-fed thrusters and demonic steering assists that made riding feel more like flying. But this one? This was different. This was tactile. Mortal. Raw.

No soul-bound gears. No hell-forged afterburners. Just tires, pavement, wind, and gravity doing their slow seductive dance with danger.

Lux grinned as he slowed into the familiar roundabout of the hotel. The staff hadn’t moved an inch. Still standing there with perfect posture and a slightly too-wide smile, like they weren’t quite sure if they were witnessing a guest or an urban legend.

He pulled to a smooth stop, the bike purring beneath him like a loyal beast, and killed the engine with one flick of the wrist. The sudden silence was almost reverent.

Lux swung his leg off the seat, boots landing on polished stone, shirt still half-open and wind-tousled hair sticking up like he’d just rolled out of a thousand-thread-count sin session. Which, to be fair, he had.

"Where do I sign?" he asked, voice lazy but precise, still tinged with the satisfied arrogance of someone who knew he looked like the cover of a forbidden magazine.

The taller staff member—thin, glasses, sweating despite the AC—fumbled for the clipboard. "Y-yes, sir! Right here." He held it out with both hands like it was an offering.

Lux took the pen, flicked his wrist, and let his name glide across the form. The ink shimmered faintly gold where his aura touched it.

"Good stuff," he added, handing it back with a nod.

Then, of course, came the tip. Lux dipped into his pocket, pulled out two crisp hundred-dollar bills, and slid them toward the clipboard like he was tipping for a particularly well-played sonata.

"For your time," he said. "And your silence."

The man blinked, nodded, and very visibly tucked the money inside his jacket without another word.

Lux mounted the bike again and guided it smoothly toward the underground garage.

The garage itself was cool, shadowed, and mostly empty this early in the morning. The air smelled like clean oil and new rubber, tinged faintly with citrus from whatever industrial-grade scent diffusers the hotel used to pretend luxury didn’t come with grease.

He parked near a corner—out of view but not out of reach—mentally tagging it for quick teleport access later if needed. His fingers brushed the seat one last time before walking away, boots echoing against marble-tile silence.

Elevator. Swipe key. Button pressed. Lobby.

He leaned against the back wall of the lift, letting his thoughts drift.

-Ding!

Lobby floor.

The doors slid open.

And fate, as always, had a sense of humor.

Five girls walked in.

Not just five girls. Five bachelorette-party-morning-after girls. freewёbnoνel-com

All cute. All glowing. All smelling faintly of tequila, rose water, and last night’s poor decisions.

The bride-to-be was easy to spot. Sash slung across her crop top: BRIDE TO BE in aggressive glitter. Messy hair in a bun. Smudged mascara and the smug confidence of someone who had screamed karaoke in heels and lived.

Lux took one look, exhaled quietly through his nose, and hit the "floor 23" button like a man preparing for spiritual warfare.

The girls stepped in, laughing and nudging each other. One had a unicorn scrunchie. Another was holding her shoes in one hand and a mimosa in the other like she was born for chaos. As the elevator doors closed, they caught sight of him at the same time.

And the room changed.

Scent.

Vibe.

Pheromones.

It was like a heatwave rolled through the confined space—silent, invisible, warm—and every single one of them felt it hit. They even forgot to pressed the elevator button.

Lux didn’t do anything. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move.

But he didn’t have to.

[Incubus Pheromones – Passive Active]

[Range: 5m. Confined Space Bonus: +30%]

[Status Effects: Heightened attraction. Increased curiosity. Slight romantic disorientation.]

[No targets meet compatibility threshold.]

[Recommendation: Proceed with social engagement if desired. No assets detected.]

So. Not rich enough for the System to care. That was fine. Greed didn’t always pick. But Lust?

Lust didn’t need a damn checklist.

The tallest girl, long curls, sparkly eyeshadow, leaned a little closer to her friend and whispered—not quietly enough, "Oh my god, who is that?"

The unicorn scrunchie girl giggled. "He looks like someone who just broke hearts and a mattress."

Bride-to-Be gave a mock frown. "We shouldn’t flirt. I’m engaged."

Pause.

Then she smirked. "But you guys should definitely go for it."

One of them cleared her throat and leaned closer to Lux. "Hey... you staying here too?"

Lux glanced sideways. Slow. Smooth. Let his eyes meet hers with that lazy infernal glimmer. "I am," he said simply.

Another girl took that as permission. "You look like you’ve had a very good morning."

Lux tilted his head slightly, smiling. "It’s been... productive."

"Where’d you come from?" the one with the heels asked. "You smell like... sandalwood and sin."

"Trade secret," Lux murmured. "Though I suppose sharing would be fun."

They laughed. All five. One nudged the other.

"What’s your name?" asked sparkly-eyeshadow girl.

"Lux."

Unicorn scrunchie nearly dropped her mimosa. "Of course it is."

Bride-to-Be looked him over again, lips pursed thoughtfully. "Are you a model? Or, like... a consultant?"

"Let’s say I work in finance," he replied.

Sparkly-eyeshadow arched a brow. "Finance doesn’t smell that good."

"Depends what you’re investing in," Lux said, voice like melted chocolate. "Or who."

He watched them practically short-circuit. The pheromones were doing overtime. One girl pressed her thighs together. Another touched her neck like it suddenly itched.

The elevator dinged.

Floor 23.

Lux stepped forward and turned slightly, giving them all one last, slow smile as the doors opened.

"Ladies," he said, nodding. "Have a lovely morning."

Bride-to-Be raised her mimosa. "Send room number later."

"Maybe," Lux said.

Then he stepped out and let the doors close behind him.

He didn’t even need to look back to know one of them was still staring.

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