Chapter 56 – I Don’t Offer Love
Rava sat there, blinking once, her throat dry and her palms hotter than they should be. What the hell just happened? One second she was teasing him, the next she was almost kissing a guy who literally admitted to being a living aphrodisiac. And not in the "he’s hot" way. In the actual, technical, supernatural way.
She hated how it worked.
"So," she said, clearing her throat, voice too casual to be casual. "You want to sleep around now?"
Lux turned his head toward her, calm and amused. "If I say yes," he said slowly, "are you going to be disappointed?"
Her jaw tensed. That was not the kind of question you asked a woman while trapped in a plush luxury vehicle with tinted windows and leather seats soft enough to justify moral crimes.
He added, voice silkier now, "But if I do... I’ll do it with consent. I’m a fair person."
Of course he said it like that. Smooth, controlled, like flirting was breathing. Like seduction was just business negotiation with better lighting.
Rava tilted her head, studying him. "Naomi won’t get mad about this?"
Lux didn’t flinch. "Naomi’s the one who gave me the idea."
The car could’ve swerved and hit a lamppost and she still wouldn’t have blinked faster than she did just then.
"She said that?" Rava’s brows shot up, disbelief painted on her face like war paint.
He nodded. No smirk. No sarcasm. Just... that slow, maddening calm.
She narrowed her eyes, voice low. "Weird. Naomi’s not the sharing type."
Lux didn’t say anything.
But Rava was sharp. That silence wasn’t empty. It was heavy. Something in his eyes shifted—like he knew more than he could say. Like the whole truth sat on his tongue, but he wouldn’t let it out.
She felt the weight of it.
And that only made her more curious.
"So..." she said slowly, "you planning to just... what? F*ck around for free? Or do you have some kind of business contract with Naomi?"
He finally smiled again, and it was that damn lazy kind.
"Business, huh..." he echoed. "I wouldn’t call it that."
He shifted, the soft shk of leather as he leaned forward just a little, enough that his voice dropped and his tone changed. Warmer. Quieter. Realer.
"It’s an emotional bond," he said. "Whatever this is... it’s not transactional. I’m not handing out contracts. But I can promise this—"
He locked eyes with her.
"If someone tangles up with me, their life probably won’t be plain anymore."
Rava’s throat went dry.
"And in return," Lux added, voice like velvet-wrapped blades, "I can give her whatever she wants. Just tell me."
Her brain stopped.
No, actually—her entire nervous system threw up its hands and walked off the job.
Did he just say that?
That casually?
She stared at him, eyes wide.
Her face heated, slow and treacherous.
"You think just because you bought us dinner last night everything’s going to be easy for you?" she said, crossing her arms, trying not to sound breathless.
Lux didn’t even blink.
"You think you’re that rich?" she added, challenging him.
"I am," he said.
Two words. Just that.
But the way he said them?
Like old money that had never tasted poverty.
Like a dragon sitting on gold, sipping espresso from a diamond-encrusted mug while the world burned outside.
She didn’t realize he’d leaned closer until she could smell the faint trace of blood and sandalwood on his collar.
"Try me," he whispered.
His breath ghosted against her ear.
"You’ll understand why she fell for me."
And then he pulled back, slow, deliberate. That smirk back on his lips like it lived there rent-free.
Rava didn’t move.
Couldn’t.
Her whole body was lit up like someone had rerouted her electricity to run through her spine. And worse—she liked it.
She liked that smug grin.
Liked that self-assured confidence.
Liked that maddening, impossible promise behind his words.
And gods help her, she liked that bloody mess of a man sitting across from her like he’d just strolled out of a war zone and into a fashion campaign.
She blinked, hard.
What the hell is wrong with me?
But the answer was obvious... Lux Vaelthorn.
The man was cursed charisma wrapped in expensive threads, dipped in blood, and dusted with some kind of devil-born allure that had no right hitting as hard as it did.
She tried to look away. Couldn’t.
He was still watching her. Amused. A little smug. And completely unreadable under those lashes.
’The damn bloodline,’ she thought, teeth grinding. It had to be. That weird pull—like he’d been tailored to every dangerous fantasy she never admitted to having.
That kind of chemistry didn’t happen by accident.
Still...
She wasn’t just some doe-eyed heiress ready to fall because a man whispered promises in the back of a luxury car. No matter how good his voice sounded when he said tangle up with me like it was an invitation to lose everything and enjoy it.
She cleared her throat. "You always talk like that?"
"Only to girls who challenge me," he said, completely unbothered.
She raised a brow. "You enjoy being challenged?"
He leaned back again, that smug grin softening just enough to feel dangerous. "Immensely."
And dammit.
That made her heart flutter again.
This was not good.
Not when her fingers were still twitching to touch the silk on his collar. Not when she kept replaying his words. Not when she kept wondering if Naomi really had given permission, and why, and what it said about their relationship, and if it meant—
No. She wasn’t going there.
"So..." she said carefully, "what happens if a girl does say yes to you?"
Lux tilted his head. "You want the sales pitch?"
She rolled her eyes. "I want the truth."
He looked at her for a moment. Then he said, simply:
"I ruin her schedule. Disrupt her life. Make her feel like she’s been kissed by chaos and dressed in power."
Rava blinked.
"...That’s not a no."
"It’s also not a maybe."
She exhaled slowly. "And what about love?"
His smile dimmed. Just a fraction.
"I don’t offer love," he said softly. "Not because I don’t feel it. But because I’ve seen what people expect it to look like."
His voice dipped lower.
"And I don’t... love like that."