You knew he was rich. Stupidly rich. But that didn’t mean you were about to let him pay for everything.

Or so you thought.

The moment your card even hovered near the payment terminal, Chuuya’s hand was already there, snatching it away. He gave you a look—that look. The one that made your stomach flip, the one that said you were in trouble.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His voice was low, amused, but laced with something darker.

“Paying for my coffee?” You tried to take your card back, but he simply pocketed it, tilting his head at you like you were some unruly child.

Chuuya exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “No. Absolutely not. This is mine,” he said, sliding his card across the counter before you could protest.

“It’s just coffee, Chuuya.”

“It’s not about the coffee, love.” He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s about the fact that your money is for fun. Mine is for taking care of you.”