CHAPTER 460: GREED IS A HOARDER

Chapter 460 – Greed is a Hoarder

He turned his head. Met her eyes. And with the kind of stillness that came from centuries of cold-blooded ambition, he said.

"I wait."

Rava blinked. "That’s it?"

"I wait until they realize they do. Or I let them go."

He looked down.

"Not because I’m kind. But because I don’t beg. Ever."

Silence again.

The kind of silence that wasn’t empty—but sharp.

Clean.

Like the edge of a contract waiting to be signed in blood.

But inside?

His mind wasn’t quiet.

Because he had begged before.

Almost two centuries ago.

He could still feel it, like rust under his nails.

They had left him alone.

Zavros and Seraphyne—Greed and Lust, his so-called loving parents.

And yeah, maybe he was. But being smart wasn’t enough when Hell’s Central Finance Department had sixteen factions trying to embezzle from him, three different Demon Kings demanding tribute balances, and half the system runes malfunctioning because of an unapproved Greed-System patch update that no one trained him on.

He remembered the night he finally snapped.

Alone in the Vault Nexus.

Hands ink-stained and shivering from spell fatigue.

A junior accountant crying in the corner because the ledger runes were bleeding.

Three dead interns because someone summoned a soul-eater inside the tax box.

And Lux—

Lux sitting on the cold golden floor, surrounded by broken contract seals, calling his parents through a mirror portal that kept glitching.

"Please."

His voice had cracked. He hated that it cracked.

"Just come back. Just for a week. I can’t—"

Static.

A flicker of his mother’s smile.

His father’s distracted hum.

"You’ll be fine."

They never came.

He never begged again.

Not once.

So yeah. When Lux said he didn’t beg?

He meant it.

Even if the scar still pulsed sometimes.

Even if the memory still curled in his stomach like a tight, bitter knot.

Even if the boy he used to be—young and desperate and shaking in the middle of a gold-ink storm—still haunted the edges of his silence.

Eventually, Rava leaned back, her tone lighter.

"You know you’re insufferable when you talk like that, right?"

Lux blinked once.

Then exhaled slowly, letting the weight of that memory dissolve into the tea steam.

"Yeah," Lux said. "But I’m rich and hot, so it balances out."

She laughed then. A real one. Not the polite boardroom chuckle she usually gave, but something breathier, closer to the Rava he got to see when no one else was looking.

"You staying here tonight?" she asked, flicking the remote to shut off the screen.

He looked at her. Long and deep. The kind of look that asked more than just permission.

"I walked all the way here barefoot in sleepwear with a half-finished existential crisis in my head," he said dryly. "You think I don’t deserve cuddles?"

Rava raised an eyebrow. "You’re not a cuddler."

"Greed is a hoarder," he replied, already standing and pulling off his shirt. "And right now, I want warmth."

She rolled her eyes. "Gods help me. You’re going to monologue in bed, aren’t you?"

"Only a little," he said, tossing his shirt onto the couch. "But I promise to be hot while doing it."

"Deal," she said, sliding over to make space—then pausing. "Lux?"

"Hm?"

"Just... don’t let them change you."

His back was to her, hands busy undoing the tie on his pants.

He paused for a beat. Not long. But enough.

"I won’t," he said.

Then he slid in beside her. The couch-turned-bed wasn’t huge, but it was padded with Rava-level standards—ocean-threaded silks and cold-pressed cotton sheets infused with minor enchantments to regulate temperature. Comfortable in the way that screamed "don’t get used to this" unless you were rich or powerful or, in Lux’s case, both.

He shifted, letting their shoulders touch. Warm skin to warmer skin. The late-night air was still and scented faintly with that hibiscus tea and Rava’s ever-present sea-tinged perfume—cool like a kraken current, calm like something waiting beneath.

"I meant what I said," Lux murmured.

"I know," Rava said softly, not looking at him.

They lay like that for a moment. Long enough to hear the hum of the silence between them. That quiet weight that existed only after the masks slipped.

Then Lux exhaled and shifted to face her fully, one arm propping under his head.

"But for the time being," he began, voice quieter now, "I need to reward you."

Rava blinked at him. "Reward me?"

He nodded. "For what you did for Ariel."

Her brow twitched. "Lux—"

"I mean it," he said, cutting her off gently. "All things... should have payment. Mutual. Balanced. Not because I use people or see you as a tool, but..." His voice tightened just slightly, like the words themselves were old currency with sharp edges. "Because I thought you’d be happy for it."

Rava stared at him. Her eyes gleamed in the dark, like a calm sea lit by stormlight.

She shook her head slowly. "We already talked about this."

"I know," he said.

"This isn’t how a relationship works, Lux." Her voice wasn’t angry. Just tired. Patient, but in that dangerous way women got when they were disappointed and still trying to be kind. "This? What you’re doing? This is a transaction. You’re trying to balance it. But it’s not about numbers."

He looked away. "I just want to say thank you."

"You did," she said. "With words. With actions. With everything you’ve done for Ariel."

"That’s not enough," he muttered, jaw tensing. "Not for me."

Rava sighed and sat up a bit, her hair spilling across her shoulder like a dark tide. "Lux."

He didn’t move. Just stared at the ceiling.

She touched his chest. Right over the steady thrum of his heart. "You’re doing it again."

"What."

"You’re trying to earn affection."

He swallowed, throat working. "Isn’t that better than taking it for granted?"

"It’s not about earning," she said softly. "It’s about giving. Freely. Not because you feel like you owe it. Not because you’re afraid of being a bastard. Just... because you want to."