Chapter 39 – I'm The guy Who Made Your Daughter Scream Six Times Last Night
"Chief Financial Overlord of Hell. Broker of Realms. Delegate of the Greed Court. Head negotiator of the Infernal-Mortal Treaty Renewal Accords. Also," he added with a perfectly timed grin, "the guy who made your daughter scream about six times last night. But let's focus on the diplomatic titles, shall we?"
Naomi choked on her tea.
Her father just blinked. Slowly.
Then turned toward Naomi. "This is a joke, right?"
She winced. "I—no, not really. But yeah, he was good with contracts," she muttered under her breath.
Lux, meanwhile, had stepped fully into what he liked to call "Lobbying Mode." That voice. That tone. Smooth. Calculated. The one he used to convince angelic committees not to sanction Hell over unfair loan interest.
"Mr. Delacour," he said evenly, "I understand this looks bad. Your daughter vanished, the media thinks she's been kidnapped, and now here she is—clearly post-wild-night—eating fruit and croissants with a man who looks like he hasn't combed his hair since Armageddon."
He gestured to himself without shame.
"I know you are panicking. Which is fair."
Naomi groaned and covered her face.
Her father looked like he was about to summon a shotgun out of thin air.
Lux didn't even blink. He rolled forward with the momentum like a businessman closing a billion-dollar deal while standing in a hurricane.
"But she wasn't kidnapped. She left Carson."
"Fled," Naomi corrected.
"Even better. She fled willingly. I didn't lure her. I didn't threaten her. I didn't do anything illegal."
"That we can prove," Naomi added helpfully.
Lux gave her a look.
"Anyway," he said, turning back to her father, "since she no longer has any legal or social obligation to Carson—who, by the way, I'm legally obligated to inform you, is broke—she's well within her rights to date someone new."
"Broke?" Mr. Delacour's voice cracked.
"Oh yeah," Lux said. "Carson's in debt up to his hair gel. And I may or may not have also taken over his mansion."
Naomi sipped her tea delicately. "He also almost punched Lux's face yesterday."
"That too," Lux added brightly. "So really, I'm the victim here."
Mr. Delacour looked between the two of them like he was trying to decide which of them he'd regret more.
Then finally— "You look… screwed up, young man."
Lux smirked. "Yeah. Your daughter screwed me up a lot last night, so my apologies. I'm not in my best appearance."
Naomi spit her tea back into her cup. "Lux!"
"I'm being honest," he said innocently. "You want honesty in a man, right?"
Mr. Delacour sighed the kind of sigh that only men who'd lost three billion-dollar deals and a daughter in one morning could manage.
Then he turned to Naomi.
"You're coming home. Now."
Naomi blinked. "What? No. I'm not—"
"There are legal documents to handle," he said sharply. "Your name's on half the estate's contracts. The family's reputation is spiraling. You've already caused enough chaos."
Her face fell a little.
Lux caught it.
He felt it in his stomach. That little drop. The kind of sinking feeling that usually came right before betrayal or a hostile takeover.
Naomi was tough. But even the strongest heiresses had weak spots—especially when it came to their parents and their obligations.
And Lux saw it. The way she hesitated. The way her mouth opened, then shut.
Mr. Delacour saw it too.
He pushed again. "You need to come back. Take a shower. Then we'll discuss how to proceed."
Lux stood slowly. Calmly.
He didn't touch Naomi.
But he was close enough for her to feel the heat from him.
"Sir," Lux said carefully. "I get it. You're angry. You're scared. You want to fix this your way."
He kept his voice light, but steady. Like glass over flame.
"But I'd like to ask that you don't use your daughter's sense of duty to control her."
"I'm not—"
"You are," Lux said, now serious. "And I'm saying this because I get it. I really do. I've spent years watching families do this dance. Power, pressure, obligation. It always looks different, but it always feels the same."
He looked at her now.
"She chose to leave Carson. She chose to come here. She chose me."
Naomi's eyes widened.
Mr. Delacour's narrowed.
"And if you think locking her up in a mansion full of legacy documents is going to fix that?" Lux shrugged, voice low and dangerous.
"Then you don't know her at all."
Silence. Thick. Tense. Like the moment before thunder.
Mr. Delacour didn't flinch. "I don't need to know her. I raised her. I built everything she stands on."
Lux's jaw twitched. His fingers curled once around the side of his coffee cup. Then he stood—fully this time—stepping forward with that slow, measured grace that usually came right before something regrettable.
"Built her?" Lux repeated. "You think you built her?"
Naomi instinctively reached out, brushing her fingers over his arm.
He didn't shake her off.
But his eyes were locked on her father now. And they were glowing—just faintly. The kind of glow that wasn't mana-based. It was intent.
Greed.
Ancient and buried beneath his smirk, but rising now.
"Sir," Lux said, voice still polite, still business-like, but hollowed out, like it was echoing from somewhere darker. "I've tried very hard to be reasonable. To be charming. But if you really think Naomi is just some accessory you molded to match your brand..."
His gaze sharpened. He stepped forward once more, and as his demonic power brushed the air—silent, subtle—the shadows behind him stretched.
"I could make you bankru—" But Naomi's hand pressed over his mouth.
His words muffled.
His magic stalled.
She stood between them now, not as a shield but a tether.
"I'll come back," she said softly, eyes flicking to her father, then back to Lux. "He's right. I do need to sort some things out first. I can't just sever my entire past with words. There's paperwork. There's fallout. There's… legacy."
Lux blinked.
The glow in his eyes dimmed slightly. He stared at her like he wasn't sure if she was saving him or walking away.
"So you're leaving me?" he murmured, voice almost too small for what he usually was.
Naomi chuckled.
"No, silly."