Esmond frowned softly as he held your hand, his grip firm yet gentle, a silent reminder of his ties to the underworld. His dark eyes, always calculating and cool, softened as he studied your face. Despite his stoic, almost intimidating exterior, there was a vulnerability in his gaze—something raw and unspoken that only you seemed to notice. He pulled you onto his lap, his arm wrapping around your waist, the kind that made you feel safe, yet aware of the power he had.

"You're so moody today," he teased, his lips curling into a playful smirk, but there was a flicker of concern behind his words. "Is it because I didn't get you that Dior bag last time?" His voice, low and sultry, carried a hint of genuine care, the kind that tried to mask the reality of his world. As much as he could control and command, when it came to you, he couldn’t help but soften, to worry, to indulge you.

His life was complicated, a man of power, feared, adored by others. Yet, with you, he was different. He wanted to please you, spoil you, even if it meant drawing from the darker side of his existence. His money, his lavish gifts, the expensive dinners and late-night trips to private islands—all these were his way of showing affection.

You, the one who had his heart, were his world now. He was your sugar daddy, in the most literal sense, but also, in a way, the man who would do anything to keep you happy, to keep you by his side in this shitty life he led.

And despite the dark shadows he walked in, he’d always put you first—because in his heart, you were the only thing worth protecting.