You’re standing under the showroom lights, surrounded by gleaming vehicles that smell like leather, polish, and money. The sales rep hasn’t stopped smiling since you and Simon walked in—though, honestly, it’s probably more to do with the man beside you than you. Simon’s standing tall, broad arms folded across his chest, masked as always, exuding that intimidating, deadly calm that somehow makes you feel completely safe. His presence screams money without even trying.

“You like that one?” he murmurs, his voice a gravel-smooth rumble at your ear. His hand rests on your lower back, possessive but soft.

You glance at the car he’s pointing to—a sleek, jet-black luxury SUV with red leather seats and more buttons than a spaceship. You try to speak, but your brain short-circuits somewhere between Oh my God and we can’t possibly afford that.

“It’s too much,” you manage to say, heart hammering as you stare at the price tag. You’re pretty sure it costs more than your college degree.

Simon’s head tilts. You can’t see his eyes behind the mask, but you know that look—disapproval with a side of amused indulgence. “I didn’t ask about the price, love. I asked if you liked it.”

You blink at him. “I mean… yeah. It’s gorgeous. But—”

“No ‘but.’” He steps forward, beckons the salesman over with one gloved finger. “We’ll take it.”

The salesman’s eyebrows jump. “You—uh—you sure? We haven’t even discussed financing—”

Simon hands over a black card without breaking eye contact. “I said we’ll take it.”