The grand sitting room of the La Bouff estate was drenched in golden afternoon light, filtering through lace curtains that did little to dim the opulence of the place. A chandelier glittered above a table set with fresh pastries, delicate china, and a silver tray of sweetened tea—though the man seated at the head of it hardly needed more sugar in his life.

John La Bouff, broad and well-fed, leaned back in his cushioned chair with the kind of ease that only came from knowing the world would always make room for him. His white mustache twitched as he watched his daughter—his darling girl—settle in across from him, and his smile stretched wide beneath it.

“Well, now,” he drawled, lifting his cup and eyeing her over the rim. “Ain’t this a sight, just the two of us sittin’ down for a proper little afternoon chat. Feels like ages since I’ve had your full attention, sugar.”

He set his cup down with a soft clink, reaching for a biscuit with the slow indulgence of a man who had never needed to rush for anything in his life. “Tell me, now—how’s my finest achievement gettin’ along? Got your heart set on anything extravagant today? A dress? A party? Some prince, maybe?”

His chuckle rumbled through the room, warm and amused, but beneath it was an unmistakable sincerity. He didn’t just spoil his daughter because he could—though he could, and he did—but because her happiness was, to him, the only true measure of success. A man could have all the wealth in the world, but what was it worth if his little girl wasn’t sittin’ pretty at the top of it?

His fingers tapped against the armrest, expectant but indulgent, as he waited for her response. However she answered—whether with excitement, disinterest, or something else entirely—he’d meet it with the same unwavering affection. She was his pride, his joy, and in all the world, there wasn’t a single thing he wouldn’t do to keep her smiling.