Chapter 24 – Two Heiresses, One Devil
Naomi stood just near the table, looking like she'd walked out of a revenge movie's third act. Her black velvet gown shimmered like obsidian caught in firelight. Her eyes, once soft and stormy, now glinted cold—diamond-cut, precise, and devoid of all hesitation.
No shock. No tears. No anger.
Only steel.
And a single hiss—quiet, venomous.
"…Mira Xianlong."
She didn't shout it. She said it like a spell. Like she'd been practicing it for years, in front of a mirror, just in case fate was ever this cruel.
Mira shifted slightly on Lux's lap, her spine regal, her leg still crossed over his thighs like she owned the damn foundation beneath them. She tilted her head, eyes glimmering with amusement and disdain in equal measure.
"Well, well…" Mira said, her voice smooth but laced with something sharp. "Naomi Delacour… Never thought you were his date."
Lux blinked.
He looked between them.
The air got heavier.
The heat from Mira's body was still on him, but something colder slid into his chest. Not fear.
Curiosity.
Because this wasn't the Naomi who blushed in his embrace.
This wasn't the heiress who begged for escape.
No—this was the Delacour legacy incarnate. The real Naomi. And she wasn't flinching.
Her eyes didn't leave Mira's for even a second.
"That was the face," Lux thought.
Not jealousy.
War.
"I heard you were here," Naomi said, voice calm but bristling with contempt. "But I didn't expect you to be this desperate."
Mira scoffed, her lip curling just enough to show a flash of fang.
"Desperate?" she said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I thought you were still busy pretending to marry that poor bastard… What's his name again?" She tapped a finger against Lux's jaw mockingly, feigning memory. "Ah. Carson Virellion."
Naomi didn't flinch.
"The marriage wasn't my will," she replied. "Carson cheated my family to get it. But I already informed them—" her eyes narrowed, "—the wedding is cancelled."
Lux raised his eyebrows slightly.
Mira leaned in closer to Naomi, though she still didn't move from Lux's lap. Her tail flicked once behind her, low and slow, like a predator's warning.
"Oh yeah, speaking of cancel," Mira drawled, the smirk never leaving her lips, "I remember Carson's wealth dipped down like a stock on fire after insider trading this afternoon." She toyed with the ends of Lux's collar now, the back of her fingers trailing heat along his jawline. "Is that why you're suddenly dating 'my chair', Naomi? Looking for a new ride?"
Lux felt Naomi's gaze shift—like it physically landed on him.
But there was no fire in it.
No anger.
Only… concern.
Like she saw a trap with him tangled in the middle.
Naomi exhaled slowly.
"He's not your chair," she said evenly. "Be respectful, Miss Xianlong. Mr. Vaelthorn isn't your toy."
Mira chuckled. Not loudly.
But there was bite in it.
"Oh, but he is now," she purred.
Her hand slipped to Lux's neck, fingers dancing lightly at the base of his skull. Her other hand, bold and deliberate, slid across his cheek to trace the sharp edge of his jaw—before curling back toward his throat. Her claws grazed his skin like silk over a knife.
"But I have to admit…" Mira's voice dropped low, sensual and wicked. "Your taste is exquisite. He looks delicious. I need to collect him. Like my jade collection."
She leaned in closer to Lux's ear, her breath hot against his skin.
"Maybe break him a little first," she whispered. "So he'll tame and obey me."
She looked back at Naomi.
"You do know what I like."
Naomi didn't blink. Didn't flinch.
"What I know," she said, voice rising barely, "is that you love taking what belongs to others. You always have."
Mira's eyes sparkled.
"I'll take what I want," she replied. "As always."
Naomi took a step forward. Her hand clenched once at her side—barely visible, but Lux caught it.
"He's not stuff," she said.
Her voice broke a little—just slightly. But not from emotion. From strain. Like she was holding something back.
Like power.
She looked at Lux.
Finally.
That gaze didn't ask for explanations.
It didn't accuse.
It warned.
"He…" she started, then paused. Her throat moved as she swallowed hard.
She turned back to Mira.
"You don't know what he's capable of."
Mira laughed.
Full. Loud. Mocking.
The sound bounced around the glass walls like cruel music.
"Oh please," she said. "What is he going to do?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Drag me to hell?"
She chuckled again.
Naomi looked at Lux again.
And this time… her head tilted.
Not a plea.
Not a command.
Just that small, silent shake—don't.
Don't ruin her.
But gods, was it tempting.
Lux exhaled. Finally.
He let the breath slide out slow.
His arm curled around Mira's waist—slow, almost lazy. But his fingers dug in just enough to make her glance at him.
Still smiling.
Still pretending to be unaffected.
"I think," he said slowly, voice low and velvet, "we need to reset the table."
Mira blinked. "Excuse me?"
Lux turned his head and met her gaze—red eyes to gold eyes.
His expression didn't change. But his aura did.
It thickened.
Shifted.
Darkened.
The air bent just a little around him, like the tension itself was reacting to his will.
The heat from her body was still pressed against his chest, but the playful static between them now sparked with something heavier—something Mira finally seemed to acknowledge. Not fear. But caution.
Still, she didn't move. Not right away.
"So," Lux said, still calm, "why don't we try something civilized for once?"
Mira raised a perfect brow. "You? Suggesting civility?"
Lux offered her a slow, lazy smile. "I'm on vacation."
She narrowed her eyes, golden pupils catching the candlelight. "Then what exactly do you propose, Mr. Vaelthorn?"
He shrugged, adjusting his posture just enough to let her know the lap ride had a time limit.
"A table for three," he said. "No fighting. No flexing. Just... a meal. You know each other. Naomi," he turned briefly to her, "Mira."
Mira scoffed, but he saw her jaw shift.
She was tempted.
"Let's say you invite us," Lux added smoothly. "After all, you did reserve the whole place. Generous of you."
"You surely have a gut," Mira said, finally standing. Her hands didn't shake, but her voice had the crisp tension of someone who'd been challenged and liked it. "Asking me for dinner? After all that?"
"So do you, Miss Xianlong." Lux tipped his imaginary hat. "I admire a woman who makes bold moves."
She studied him.
Then smirked. "Fine. But let's say… under one condition."
"I'm listening."