Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Chapter 150 – Doomed

Elyndra leaned closer to the bathroom door like she wasn’t the granddaughter of an ancient elven dynasty. Like she wasn’t supposed to be graceful and aloof and utterly above all this.

But she really wasn’t above this.

Because the sounds slipping through the crack in the bathroom door were... graphic.

Low, rhythmic thuds. A breathless gasp. A moan that started high and dropped low and long, wet enough to curl Ely’s toes inside her expensive heels.

She pressed a hand to her burning cheek. ”It’s so hot,” she whispered.

Fiera flinched beside her, mouth full. ”Not gonna lie. That last moan? That was a cinematic experience.”

Mira didn’t say anything right away. She just slowly turned her head and stared at Fiera with visible judgment.

”Why,” she said dryly, ”are you still eating macarons?”

Fiera was halfway through her third. She chewed slowly, like shame would appear if she swallowed too fast.

”I need something to distract myself, okay?” she snapped softly, glaring at the floor. ”I’m stress-eating. This is my coping mechanism.”

Ely blinked. ”You literally raided the dessert tray.”

Fiera gestured to the door. ”They’ve been in there twenty minutes. What did you expect me to do, knit a scarf?”

”I expected you to act like an adult.”

”That’s rich coming from someone who was blushing like a virgin the second Rava started screaming his name.”

”I didn’t scream,” Ely muttered, ”I just... startled.”

Mira snorted quietly, arms folded. Her long black hair shimmered in the low light, and she looked like someone who had never eavesdropped on anything in her life. Except she was—and she hated how invested she was.

”I can’t believe Rava,” she said finally. ”Dragging him into the bathroom like that. In her own mansion.”

”She’s bold,” Ely offered weakly.

”She’s winning,” Fiera muttered, licking some raspberry off her thumb.

Mira gave her a side glance. ”Jealous?”

”No.”

Mira lifted a brow.

Fiera shoved another macaron in her mouth.

Ely was trying to breathe evenly. She was a high elf, damn it. She had meditated atop moonlit trees. Studied the languages of rain. But nothing had prepared her for this level of audio assault.

Especially not from Lux.

The noises weren’t just carnal.

They were obscene.

The wet, rhythmic slap. The rough growl from Lux’s chest. The breathy, unhinged whimper Rava made that sounded like it had broken past her bones.

Ely pressed her knees together.

Fiera stared at the door like she could will it open.

Mira didn’t even blink, though her fingers kept twitching where they rested on her arm.

After what felt like forever, the sounds changed. Slowed. Became soft. Shaky. Whispered things they couldn’t quite make out.

Then silence.

Heavy. Final.

The kind of silence that made all three of them jump back from the door like guilty schoolgirls caught in the teacher’s lounge.

”Shit,” Fiera hissed, almost dropping her pastry plate. ”Back—back to the table—go!”

They all scrambled in heels.

Chairs scraped.

Wine glasses clinked.

Macarons were sacrificed to the floor gods in a panic.

They landed in their seats with the most unnatural, synchronized stillness. Three heiresses. Perfect posture. Completely composed.

Except they weren’t.

Not even close.

Fiera was chewing nothing.

Mira was fidgeting with her bangles.

Ely kept adjusting her neckline like it was suddenly too tight.

The bathroom door remained closed.

Silent.

Like nothing had happened.

Like they hadn’t all just heard the devil himself rearrange their friend’s soul against marble tile.

Fiera was the first to break.

”Please don’t say they’re doing a round two.”

Mira scoffed. ”That’s impossible.”

”You sure?” Fiera glanced at the door with pure, twitching suspicion. ”You heard him.”

Mira rolled her eyes. ”Lux isn’t... supernatural, Fiera. He’s just dramatic. A man. A ridiculous, overly charming man who likes the sound of his own voice.”

”He also likes making people moan his name,” Ely whispered.

Mira shot her a glare.

Ely shrugged delicately. ”I’m just saying. He sounds like a demon.”

”He looks like a demon,” Fiera added.

”Acts like one,” Ely said.

”And f*cks like one,” Fiera muttered.

Mira held up her hand. ”Okay. Stop. Demons don’t exist.”

Ely tilted her head. ”Says you.”

Mira pointed at her with a perfectly manicured nail. ”No, seriously. All this ’I’m the CFO of Hell’ crap? He’s doing a bit. It’s branding. Maybe fetish-adjacent roleplay.”

”What if he is real?” Ely said, her voice quieter now—curious, not even trying to sound ironic anymore.

Mira snapped her head toward her. ”No. Absolutely not. What is that delusion?”

Fiera snorted behind her wineglass.

Mira didn’t stop. ”What do you want to say next? That he actually works in Hell’s financial department? Like he files demon tax returns? Does quarterly soul audits? Balances cursed investment portfolios?”

Ely raised a brow. ”I mean, that does sound like him.”

Mira flailed one hand. ”You think his dad owns Hell or something? That he’s some interplanar nepotism baby with an infernal family estate and a throne made of unpaid student loan contracts?”

Ely blinked. ”He did mention a throne once...”

”And let me guess,” Mira said, pacing now, sarcasm rising like steam. ”He’s engaged to some girl from the upper realm too? Like, engaged-engaged. Some celestial bride sealed by prophecy and soul compatibility and the scent of stardust?”

Ely calmly adjusted her napkin. ”It’s called the Celestial Realm, Mira.”

”Whatever it is, it’s delulu,” Mira snapped, spinning around. Her tail bristled slightly. ”You need to stop or you’ll end up like him.”

Fiera looked up, still chewing.

”Hot?” she asked. ”Wealthy?”

”Unwell,” Mira deadpanned. ”You’ll end up unwell.”

Ely just smiled faintly and sipped her wine.

”I don’t know,” she murmured. ”Unwell has a certain... appeal.”

Mira exhaled through her nose like she was about to do something incredibly stupid and dignified at the same time. ”Look. Whether he’s a demon or not—he’s dangerous.”

”We know that,” Ely said quietly.

”I like that,” Fiera whispered.

Mira closed her eyes. ”And that’s why we’re all doomed.”

They sat in silence for a beat.

A slow creak sounded.

All three turned sharply toward the bathroom door.

It didn’t open.

But something shifted.

The lights in the dining room flickered. Just once.

Then settled.

Fiera swallowed. ”Okay. What if he is real a demon?”

Ely blinked slowly. ”Then I want to see what hell feels like.”

Mira looked between them and groaned, dragging her hand down her face. ”I need more wine.”

They poured in silence.

Pretending to continue their dinner.

Pretending not to glance at the closed bathroom door every other second.

Pretending not to wonder how it would feel if they were the one dragged in next.