Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation
Chapter 51: No Wounds

Chapter 51: No Wounds

Chapter 51 – No Wounds

They both continued to stand there.

Staring.

Rava cleared her throat. "I’ll help."

Together, they carefully peeled the shirt up and over Lux’s chest.

And froze.

Because beneath all the blood and dirt and battle residue—

Was... art.

His torso was sculpted. Not in a fake, gym-influencer way. No. This was lean, functional strength. Abs that had seen war. Shoulders that carried literal sin. His skin was pale, unscarred, and smooth—almost unnaturally so, save for faint bruises and the faded shadow of what should’ve been major wounds.

Han blinked hard.

Rava stared. Her face flushed.

"...So, uh," Han said quietly, "no wounds."

"Just bruises."

"Yup. Looks like someone hit him with a car and he walked it off."

"But I saw blood," Rava said. "It was everywhere. His chest was soaked. I thought he got stabbed."

Han leaned in closer. "That’s... weird."

Rava swallowed. "Is it possible he—"

"Self-regenerates?" Han finished. "Sure. In fiction."

They both kept looking.

The rise and fall of Lux’s chest was steady now. Calm. His breathing slow and quiet. His abs flexed subtly with each breath. And somehow, his lips—soft, slightly curved at the edges—seemed smug.

"He looks like he’s dreaming about taxes being canceled," Rava muttered. "Or laying on a pile of people who want to kiss him."

Then they both realized their hands were still lightly resting on his chest.

Slowly. Awkwardly.

They pulled back.

"...This is definitely going in my journal," Han whispered.

Rava cleared her throat and picked up the blanket. "He needs to rest."

"I agree. No signs of internal damage. Pulse is steady. Breathing’s fine. But if you didn’t tell me he was bleeding earlier, I’d think he just fell asleep after... I don’t know, a beach marathon photoshoot."

They carefully draped the blanket over him again. Covered everything back up.

Lux didn’t twitch.

Didn’t move.

Except—right as they stepped away, his lips curled slightly.

Just a little.

A half-smirk.

As if he knew.

As if he was aware they’d seen him shirtless, touched his abs, blushed, and then tried to act like nothing happened.

Han narrowed her eyes. "Is he faking this whole thing?"

"I don’t think so."

"You sure? Because that face says ’I know you stared.’"

Rava didn’t respond.

She just stood there for a moment longer.

Watching him sleep.

Something in her chest felt tight. Not panic. Not worry.

Just... curiosity with edges.

Who was this guy?

He fell into her life with blood on his collar and jokes on his tongue. He looked at her like she was real. Didn’t treat her like a prize or a nuisance. He didn’t try to win her over.

He just—existed.

She turned away.

"I’ll check on him later."

Han sighed and gathered her bag.

"I don’t want to fall for a patient," she muttered as she exited.

Rava didn’t answer.

But the color still lingered on her cheeks as the door clicked softly behind her.

Silence settled in again—quiet, but not awkward. Just... thick. Laced with unsaid things and faint breaths and the ticking of some invisible clock.

Rava stood there, alone now, her hand still hovering at her side as if she hadn’t fully committed to stepping away. She looked at Lux—really looked at him. Her head tilted slightly, eyes narrowed not in suspicion, but in something softer.

"So... he’s okay?" she muttered to herself.

Weird.

Really weird.

She had expected bruises, bandages, maybe even some grunts of pain or dramatic groaning. The guy had been bleeding when she found him. Limping. Barely holding on. Yet here he was, chest rising and falling in the calmest rhythm imaginable, like he had never looked death in the face and won.

And yeah, sure, it could’ve been some kind of high-end healing potion or private enhancement—rich people pulled strange stunts sometimes—but this? This was different.

This was... unnatural. Quietly wrong. But also—kind of beautiful.

Rava ran her fingers through her hair, sighing.

She was supposed to leave. That was the plan. Drop him off, get him stable, let the doctor do her job, and walk away like a normal functioning adult.

But... no.

She found herself moving instead.

Her heels clicked once across the polished marble floor as she walked back toward the bed. The sunlight slipping between the curtains hit Lux’s face at an angle, highlighting that unnaturally flawless jawline, the almost-feminine curve of his lashes, the barely-there smirk that somehow still lingered, even in sleep.

Rava sighed again, more annoyed at herself this time.

What was she doing?

Maybe she was tired. Maybe being in close proximity to someone like him was messing with her head. She sat down on the edge of the bed slowly, trying not to disturb the mattress too much. Her eyes never left him.

He didn’t stir. Not even a twitch.

And that just made it weirder.

"So... you’re okay," she whispered, studying his face again. "You really are."

She leaned her elbows onto her knees, clasped her hands together, and let her thoughts unfurl like smoke.

This wasn’t how she imagined things would go.

Last night, he’d been terrifying. Not violent—but intense. That dangerous energy you only saw in people who knew exactly what they were capable of and didn’t need to prove it. It was how he looked at Naomi—like she was his, and the rest of the world was just background noise. Like if anything touched her, he’d erase it.

She’d been caught in that aura too.

Everyone had.

Even Mira had stiffened.

Fiera? Flustered.

Elyndra? Quiet.

That scent, too.

Something in the way Lux smelled—powerful, faintly smoky, layered with something not quite natural—had hit Rava hard. Like a magnetic fog that clouded her thoughts and made her want to lean in without knowing why.

But now...

Now that he was lying here, peacefully, half-tucked under her best silk sheet?

The pull wasn’t as strong.

That fog? Thinner.

She could think clearly again.

Her attraction hadn’t disappeared—God no—but it wasn’t some pheromone-fueled spiral anymore. It was... curiosity.