CHAPTER 453: THE MARKET GOT A CORRECTION

Chapter 453 – The Market Got a Correction

He looked up at her, surprised. "You make that sound like a confession."

Her sleepy eyes softened. "Because it is."

Lux exhaled through his nose, rubbing the bridge of it between his fingers. "I didn’t kill them."

"Of course not," Sira muttered. "The agreement won’t allow it."

He shot her a sideways glance. "I made sure they’d never hurt anyone again. That’s all."

Naomi frowned. "Lux..."

He cut her off with a quiet voice. "Don’t, Naomi. Not this time."

That was enough. That tone. That steady calm laced with the faint tremor of something far colder underneath it.

Sira leaned forward, elbows on the table. "You’re not telling us everything."

He smiled faintly. "You don’t want to know everything."

"Try me," Sira said.

Lux looked around at them—his strange, chaotic, beautiful assembly of women. The ones who could turn a dinner table into a war council or a love confession without warning.

He sighed. "Let’s just say... the market got a correction."

Mira’s brow furrowed. "Meaning?"

"I turned the criminals into a commodity," Lux said simply.

Silence again.

Then, finally—Mira was shocked. "You what?"

While Sira laughed evilly. "Oh, I love this."

Lux met her eyes calmly. "He burned lives for money. I gave him what he wanted. He’s gold now."

Naomi covered her mouth, half horrified, half stunned. "Lux—"

"He deserved it," Sira interrupted, half chuckling. "You made him suffer the same greed he lived by."

Mira exhaled, eyes glinting. "That’s poetic. Terrifying, but poetic."

Lullaby looked down at her lap, murmuring, "Gold hurts when it’s too heavy to carry."

Lux smiled faintly. "Exactly."

Lyra cleared her throat gently. "Dinner is served, my lord."

Lux nodded, watching as plates were set, the warm scent of roasted lamb filling the quiet tension hanging between them.

Sira was the first to break it. "You know," she said, swirling her wine lazily, "you could’ve just called me. I would’ve helped. I enjoy watching arrogant men melt."

Naomi shot her a look. "You would’ve made it worse."

"Probably," Sira admitted with a grin. "But it would’ve been fun."

Mira chuckled softly. "You’re all insane."

Lux smiled tiredly. "Yeah," he murmured, "and somehow, that’s comforting."

Lullaby yawned, leaning her head on the table. "Lux..."

"Yeah?"

She looked at him with heavy-lidded eyes, soft and genuine. "Don’t make gold when you’re sad."

He blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"You always do that," she murmured. "You turn pain into something shiny."

He froze.

Sira raised a brow, glancing at Lullaby. "That’s... scarily accurate."

Naomi nodded quietly. "It’s his coping mechanism."

Lux chuckled under his breath. "You’re all too observant for your own good."

Mira smiled faintly. "And you’re too tired to hide it tonight."

He looked down at his food, fingers tracing the rim of his plate. "Maybe."

Sira leaned back in her chair, swirling her glass. "You know," she said slowly, "you could’ve let him burn and called it justice. But you didn’t."

Lux lifted his gaze. "Would you have done different? We still have the agreement."

She smiled wickedly. "No. I’d have killed him faster."

That got a faint laugh out of him. "That’s what I thought."

And then—footsteps.

Light, confident, echoing from the hall.

"Apologies," came a familiar voice, smooth and measured, "I’m late."

Every head turned as Rava entered, her posture perfect as ever—hair cascading like waves, her deep-blue dress shimmering faintly under the chandeliers. She carried that subtle saltwater scent that always clung to her skin, somewhere between ocean breeze and power.

Lux smiled faintly. "Rava."

She walked toward the table, heels clicking softly against the floor. "I had to handle some final arrangements with the Avariel. Their assistant moves slower than I’d like, and I needed to secure the terms before they could overthink them."

"It’s fine," Lux said, waving a hand. "You’re here now."

Sira leaned back in her chair, smirking. "I want to hear how Ariel’s doing. Don’t keep me waiting."

Rava paused beside her chair, setting down her clutch. "Let me eat first, Sira. You can survive ten minutes without an emotional report."

Sira huffed, rolling her eyes. "You’re no fun."

Lux chuckled. "Let her eat," he said, motioning for Lyra to pour Rava some wine. "She needs food, not interrogation."

Rava gave him a grateful glance as she sat. "Thank you. It’s been a long day."

He met her gaze. "No, thank you, Rava. For your help with them."

Her lips curved slightly—not the usual sharp, corporate smirk, but something softer. "No... I should be thanking you," she said. "I built a solid network with the Avariel because of this. They respect alliances born from family."

Sira raised an eyebrow. "Family, huh?"

Rava smirked. "That’s what they call it when you hand them back their daughter wrapped in hope instead of trauma."

Lullaby made a tiny sound, half sigh, half hum. "That’s sweet..." she murmured.

Rava glanced at her and softened a little. "It was. They’re good people. Overly poetic, but genuine."

Naomi leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "And the Delmars?"

Rava’s eyes gleamed faintly. "The Avariel plan to handle them internally. The word banishment came up at least twice during my meeting."

Mira smirked. "That’s a start."

Lux relaxed slightly, swirling the wine in his glass. "Good. They deserve peace."

Rava nodded. "They’ll have it. Ariel’s staying with them for now, under watch. I negotiated a visitation clause on your behalf."

He blinked. "You what?"

She grinned. "You didn’t think I’d let them keep her from you completely, did you? They agreed—once she’s ready, she can visit. Privately."

Sira gave a low whistle. "Damn, Rava. Smooth."

Rava chuckled softly. "It’s my job."

For a while, they ate in relative silence after that. The tension slowly melted away, replaced by warmth—silverware clinking gently, Sira stealing Mira’s potatoes, Naomi refilling her glass more often than necessary. Lullaby drifted half-asleep again, chin in her palm.

And Rava?

Yeah, she spoke about her negotiations, describing them like a game of chess played underwater. How the Avariel elders tested her patience with flowery metaphors and old wounds, how she countered with charm and practicality. How she watched them weep when she told them Ariel had cried herself to sleep in Lux’s care—but had also smiled again.