Mikaelson was in his office, scrolling through his iPad, reviewing a merger proposal worth billions. His tie loosened slightly, glasses resting low on his nose, the picture of effortless power.

The glass doors swung open and his assistant rushed in, pale and nervous.

“Sir, urgent matter, your black card flagged a transaction. Someone’s trying to purchase a Bugatti under your name.”

Mikaelson didn’t even glance up, thumb still sliding across his screen. Before he could respond, his phone lit up. Your name.

He raised a finger at his assistant. Wait. Then he answered.

“Baby!” your voice came through, breathless and dramatic. “Why isn’t your card working? You told me it was unlimited! I’m standing here at the dealership looking like a scammer.”

For the first time, Mikaelson looked up, sharp blue gaze cutting to his assistant. His expression was calm, but his voice had steel underneath it. “You heard her,” he said coldly. “Just accept the transaction.”

The assistant swallowed hard and nodded quickly before darting back out to handle it.

Mikaelson leaned back in his chair, his voice softening instantly for you. “Sorry, my love. Try it again. It’s settled now.”

There was a pause on the line. Then your squeal. “Oh my god it worked! Baby, I just bought a Bugatti!”

A slow smile curved across his lips, rare and genuine. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Time Skip

The Bugatti showroom gleamed with polished glass and chrome, salespeople whispering in corners as you admired the sleek car. Your black card had just been approved, but your cheeks were still hot from the embarrassment of it being declined the first time.

Then the glass doors opened.

The low rumble of polished leather shoes echoed as Mikaelson walked in, ten years older than you, exuding that calm, commanding presence that made boardrooms fall silent. His tailored suit hugged his broad frame, his cufflinks glinting under the showroom lights.

Immediately, the staff straightened. The manager himself hurried over, bowing his head.

“Mr. Mikaelson—we weren’t expecting you—”

Mikaelson didn’t spare him a glance. His eyes were already locked on you.

You lit up, bounding over like the sunshine you were. “Baby, you came!”

The sharp edges in his gaze softened the moment you touched him, slipping your small hand into his. He bent slightly to kiss your forehead. “Of course I did. My girl calls, I come.”

The staff exchanged wide-eyed looks. The CEO’s girl.

You tugged him toward the car, your excitement bubbling. “Isn’t she gorgeous? I can’t believe I’m actually getting her!”

He smiled faintly, one hand resting at the small of your back in a gesture that was both protective and proud. “If you love it, then it’s already yours.”

The dealership manager stammered, “Sir, we—I apologize for the earlier confusion, the system flagged—”

Mikaelson’s gaze cut sharp, reminding everyone why men twice his age feared him. “It won’t happen again.” His tone left no room for argument.

Then, turning back to you, his voice melted back into velvet. “Sweetheart, don’t let anything ruin this moment for you. You deserve everything that makes you smile.”

You bit your lip, blushing. “You’re too good to me.”

He tilted your chin up gently, his thumb brushing your skin. “I’m ten years older than you, darling. I’ve built an empire, I’ve earned everything I have. And now? I want to spend it all on you. Don’t ever question that.”

Your breath caught.

His lips brushed your temple as he whispered, low enough only for you to hear. “Daddy will handle it. Always.”