My Autistic Incubus Turned Out To Be The Missing Heir Chapter 01
I bought an incubus with autism. Every day, I leaned into his ear, whispering filthy things just to watch him tremble in humiliation. I pushed him so far that he finally choked out, “I will absolutely destroy you.”
Later, his true identity was exposed: he was the long-lost heir to the Sterling Vanguard empire. Terrified, I filed an overnight return and ordered a brand-new incubus. But right as I unboxed the replacement, the boy surrounded my house with his security detail, his eyes glowing a violent, bloody red.
He was a man of his word. That night, he nearly fucked me into an early grave…
***
“Julian, I’m home,” I called out.
Pushing open the front door, the house was pitch black, curtains drawn tight. I was used to it by now. I flicked on the living room lights and walked over to the corner.
Despite being nearly six-foot-three, the boy was curled up on the tiny sofa. His skin was pale, and even with his eyes closed, his face was devastatingly beautiful.
Sensing someone approaching, Julian’s eyes snapped open. He looked like a startled wild animal, the corners of his eyes flushed red from sleep, making him look almost pitiful.
Too bad such a gorgeous creature was a defective, useless product.
I sighed inwardly and reached out to ruffle his messy hair. “Didn’t I tell you? When I come home, you’re supposed to come greet me at the door. Just like Lucky.”
Lucky was the emotional support dog I’d bought specifically so Julian wouldn’t be lonely. But Julian always glared at the dog with pure murder in his eyes—especially when Lucky jumped into my arms seeking attention.
In less than a week, my normally hyperactive dog became deeply depressed. Helpless, I had to send Lucky back to the care center and order another support dog just for the dog.
…
Julian dodged my touch and silently stood up from the sofa.
On the dining table was a bowl of cold organic chicken noodle soup. I’d specifically asked the housekeeper to make it before I left for work, but he hadn’t touched a single bite.
Customer service told me that dealing with an autistic incubus required gentle, patient guidance, and absolutely no loud noises. For a whole week, I played the role of the gentle, caring older sister. But the boy’s eyes remained hollow and numb.
To hell with patient guidance. If nothing I did was right, that meant I could do whatever I wanted.
