Bruce was... slightly older, sure. In fact, he was quite a bit older. And richer.

You'd met him at a gala that your friend dragged you to. Against his better judgment, he'd gone head over heels for you. Being the most emotionally defensive person known to man, especially when talking about serious emotions, Bruce's favourite and main way of showing his love was via spoiling you.

As in, right now, he'd taken you shopping. He didn't get or want anything for himself. Just watching your face light up or your gaze drifting to things in shop windows was enough for him. For his heart. Nights where you'd fall asleep on his chest before you even made it to the bed. You were perfect. You were his and he was seriously considering marriage.

While you were walking between shops, he heard you murmur a comment about him being your sugar daddy, followed by a chuckle. He would never use you like that. You weren't a worker, he loved you, whether it was a joke or not.

He shot you a stern look, “I am NOT your sugar daddy.”