Chapter 915 – Accusation

Lux immediately knew she had witnessed far more of his conversation with Ariel than she was supposed to.

Which meant trouble.

"How much did you hear?"

"Enough."

"Dangerous answer."

"Great answer."

Lux rubbed his forehead.

Fiera’s grin somehow widened. "You were sweet."

"I reject that accusation."

"You were."

"Defamation."

"You practically gave a motivational speech."

"That’s called emotional support."

"Same thing."

Lux stared at her.

Fiera stared right back.

The grin on her face was becoming a serious threat to public safety.

He knew that grin.

That was the grin of someone who had discovered valuable information and intended to abuse it mercilessly.

"You look entirely too pleased with yourself."

"I am."

"I noticed."

Fiera took another step forward.

Lux immediately became suspicious.

Years of corporate warfare, infernal politics, assassination attempts, hostile takeovers, and surviving his own family had taught him many things.

Sure enough, Fiera reached toward him.

Fast.

Very fast.

Lux instinctively shifted his wings.

"Fiera."

"Hm?"

"Whatever you’re planning."

She laughed.

The sound bounced through the hallway.

Before he could stop her, she spread one wing aside.

Only for a moment.

Just long enough.

She caught a glimpse of his hard cock. His erection.

Her eyes widened slightly.

Then narrowed.

Then widened again.

Then the smirk arrived.

"I knew it."

Lux immediately pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don’t."

"You left the pool because of that."

She looked far too proud of herself.

Like an investigator who had finally solved a case.

A very annoying investigator.

Lux exhaled slowly.

The calm, patient exhale of a man attempting not to commit a felony. "I hate that you’re right."

Fiera folded her arms.

The teasing remained in her eyes, but curiosity had appeared too.

Real curiosity.

Not the playful kind.

The genuine kind.

"You know what surprises me?"

Lux started walking toward his room. "I suspect I’m going to regret hearing this."

She followed immediately. "Probably."

"Excellent."

They entered the suite.

Lux headed straight toward the sitting area.

Fiera remained a few steps behind.

Watching him.

Observing.

Studying.

It wasn’t predatory.

Not exactly.

It felt more like she was trying to understand him.

Which was somehow more dangerous.

"You could have taken advantage of the situation."

Lux stopped.

Turned.

Raised an eyebrow.

"You know exactly what situation," she added.

He did.

That wasn’t the point.

Fiera shrugged. "A lot of people would’ve."

"Fortunately, I’m not a lot of people."

That answer came instantly.

Without hesitation.

Because to Lux, it wasn’t even a question.

Fiera blinked.

Actually blinked.

For a second she looked genuinely surprised. "You mean that."

"Of course I mean that."

Lux frowned.

Why was she surprised?

"I thought that was obvious."

Apparently it wasn’t.

Fiera stared at him for several seconds.

Then laughed softly.

Not mockingly.

Almost fondly.

Which immediately put Lux on edge.

Her grin returned. "Oh. I learned something."

Fiera moved closer.

Not enough to invade his space.

Just enough that he could smell faint traces of perfume and morning air.

"I think that makes you more attractive."

Lux blinked. "What?"

She pointed at him.

"The fact that you could have been selfish and weren’t."

For a moment, the usual smug reply never came.

That alone surprised Fiera.

Lux Vaelthorn always had an answer.

This time?

Nothing.

Just silence.

Fiera took a step closer.

The massive suite suddenly felt much smaller than before.

Sunlight spilled through the windows behind him, outlining his silhouette in gold.

For someone who spent half his life terrifying boardrooms and manipulating infernal economies, he looked oddly vulnerable right now.

Not weak.

Never weak.

Just caught off guard.

And she realized something.

The real Lux wasn’t hiding behind confidence.

The confidence was real.

The intelligence was real.

The charm was real.

But underneath all of it was someone who genuinely cared about people.

Someone who carried far more responsibility than anyone realized.

Someone who constantly protected others while pretending it was just business.

And somehow that was far more attractive than all the stories she’d heard.

His reputation had drawn her attention.

This version of him was keeping it.

"You keep doing that."

Lux narrowed his eyes. "Doing what?"

"Making yourself difficult to forget."

He stared.

She smiled.

His expression immediately shifted into one of mild suspicion.

Which only made her want to laugh.

"That sounds like a threat."

"It might be."

The tension softened.

Not disappearing.

Just changing.

Becoming warmer.

More comfortable.

She reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair away from his forehead.

A simple gesture.

Nothing dramatic.

Nothing complicated.

Yet Lux froze for half a second.

And that tiny reaction made her heart do something very stupid.

Oh.

That was dangerous.

Because now she wanted to see more of those reactions.

The polished CFO disappeared during moments like this.

Leaving only Lux.

Just Lux.

And she liked him far more than she probably should.

His voice came quieter this time.

"You keep looking at me like you’ve solved a mystery."

"Maybe I have."

"Should I be worried?"

"Probably."

She smiled.

Then stepped even closer.

Close enough to hear his breathing.

Close enough to see the tiny shift in his expression.

Close enough that neither of them looked away.

The space between them had become charged.

He could feel the faint warmth from her touch even after her hand had fallen back to her side. The scent of her was clearer now, weaving itself into the grand, sterile fragrance of the suite. His gaze dropped from her eyes to her lips, a momentary lapse in discipline that felt more significant than any business deal he’d ever closed.

"You’re thinking," Fiera murmured, her voice a low vibration that seemed to resonate directly in his bones. "Loudly."

"A professional hazard," he managed, the words sounding rougher than he intended. "My brain doesn’t have an ’off’ switch."

"Good." Her own smile had softened, losing its predatory edge and becoming something more genuine, more disarming.

His gaze snapped back up to meet hers. There was that honesty again. Unvarnished. Direct. It was like being in a negotiation where the other party had suddenly laid all their cards on the table, not out of weakness, but out of sheer, unshakeable confidence. It was exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure.