Chapter 1037: Meeting The Parents

Chapter 1037 – Meeting The Parents

Naomi’s chest tightened.

Because he was right.

And because he was wrong.

Both.

That was always the problem with Lux.

He saw every ugly fact clearly, then forgot that facts were not the whole truth.

Naomi turned more fully toward him. "Then use the honest one."

Lux looked at her.

She held his gaze. "I chose to stay."

His fingers tightened around hers.

Naomi continued, "Not because you seduced me. Not because of money. Not because of danger, or excitement, or whatever rumors people like to imagine."

Lux’s expression became very still.

"I stayed because I wanted to."

The car moved through a quieter road now. Trees began to line the street. The city thinned into estates, gates, old walls, and too much inherited privacy.

Naomi’s voice softened.

"And I’m not going there to ask permission to love you."

Lux inhaled quietly.

Naomi almost smiled.

The sentence hit him harder than any accusation would have.

"Love is a dangerous word before meeting parents," he muttered.

Lux looked out the window again, but he did not pull his hand away. "I am scared," he said, voice low. "Not of them. Of what they represent."

"Family?"

"Claim."

Naomi went quiet.

Lux’s eyes remained on the passing trees.

"Parents have old claims. Emotional claims. Childhood claims. Memory claims. They know parts of you I don’t. They can pull on them."

Naomi listened carefully.

"And I..." He exhaled. "I don’t like being on the outside of a claim I cannot measure."

That was so Lux it almost made her want to laugh.

But she didn’t.

Because beneath the phrasing was fear.

Not possession in the ugly sense.

Fear of losing what had become precious.

Naomi lifted his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

Lux turned to her.

"You won’t lose me just because my parents ask difficult questions."

He studied her. Then nodded once.

Naomi smiled. "Also, my father is probably more worried you’ll corrupt me."

Lux deadpanned, "Too late."

The driver coughed again.

Naomi laughed.

Lux looked forward. "If you cough one more time, I will assume you are participating."

The driver’s shoulders stiffened. "Apologies, sir."

Naomi covered her mouth, eyes bright.

Lux leaned back, slightly more himself now. "There. I am recovering."

"Threatening the driver is recovery?"

"It is familiar behavior."

The car turned through a large iron gate.

Naomi’s smile slowly faded.

Lux noticed.

His gaze shifted outside.

The Delacour estate appeared beyond the long driveway.

Beautiful.

Old.

Elegant.

Too quiet.

Lux’s instincts sharpened immediately.

This was not Hell, but old wealth carried its own curses. The mansion ahead stood bright beneath the late morning sun, white stone and dark roof, wide windows, manicured gardens, and beneath it all... Something wrong.

A pressure behind the estate.

Lux’s eyes narrowed. "Naomi."

She looked at him.

His voice lowered. "The tower is here?"

Naomi’s fingers tightened around his. "Behind the estate. Hidden by wards and old family barriers."

"Who knows?"

"My parents. Some old servants. A few family lawyers. No outsiders."

Lux’s smile returned. Professional. Cold at the edges. "Family lawyers. Lovely. The mortal version of demons."

Naomi gave him a look.

He squeezed her hand gently. "I’ll behave."

"You say that like a warning."

"It is."

The car slowed near the front entrance.

Two figures waited at the top of the steps.

A man in a dark suit, posture rigid, face controlled.

Mr. Delacour.

Beside him stood a woman with elegant blonde-threaded hair, a pale dress, and eyes that made Lux’s instincts immediately revise all risk assessments upward.

Naomi’s mother.

Lux looked at them. Then exhaled softly. "Well."

Naomi glanced at him.

He smiled. Not the CFO smile. Something calmer.

A bridge with rails.

"Let’s meet the parents."

The driver opened the door first.

Lux stepped out.

Smoothly.

Controlled.

Expensive shoes touched the estate driveway, and for a second, the sunlight caught him perfectly, black suit, gold cufflinks, composed expression, dark hair styled back, the faintest smile resting on his face like he had personally purchased confidence and kept the receipt.

This was Lux Vaelthorn with his public face on. He turned back to the car and offered Naomi his hand.

Naomi looked at it for half a second.

Then smiled.

A tiny, private smile.

She took his hand and stepped out.

Lux helped her with natural ease, not overdone, just enough to say she mattered and he knew people were watching.

Because they were.

At the top of the steps, Mr. Delacour stood with his hands clasped behind his back, mouth set in a line so flat it could have been used as an architectural tool. His eyes went from Naomi to Lux, and the temperature around the driveway spiritually dropped.

Beside him stood Naomi’s mother.

Blonde like Naomi, though her hair carried elegant silver threads that made her beauty look colder, sharper, inherited from old portraits and old money. Her dress was pale cream, simple but clearly expensive. Her face was composed, almost unreadable, but her eyes...

Ah.

Her eyes were not cold.

They were watching.

Lux smiled and inclined his head. "Mr. Delacour. Mrs. Delacour. Thank you for receiving me." His voice was warm. Respectful. Perfectly balanced.

Naomi’s father’s expression did not move.

Naomi’s mother’s did, just slightly.

A tiny lift at the corner of her mouth.

Lux’s system flared.

[New Social Encounter Detected.]

[Possible Protocols: Family Introduction, Hostile Negotiation, Romantic Damage Control, Estate Curse Audit.]

[Should I show their net worth or...?]

Lux kept smiling.

He answered, ’Show me their emotions and reactions. We are in negotiation protocol’.

[Right away, sir.]

[Suppressing net worth display. A rare act of restraint. I am proud of us.]

A translucent interface appeared in his vision.

Not numbers.

Emotional reaction bars.

The kind he used in negotiations when he needed to close an important project, secure a hostile acquisition, or convince a furious demon house that bankruptcy was technically a form of spiritual growth.

[Subject: Adrian Delacour]

[Baseline Mood: Disapproval 81%]

[Trust: -12%]

[Hostility: Controlled]

[Protective Instinct: High]

[Memory Trigger: Hotel Restaurant Incident]

[Commentary: He remembers.]