My love

The glass elevator of Olympus Holdings ascended with a smooth, silent predatory grace, offering a panoramic view of the Manhattan skyline. Percy Jackson didn't look at the view. He was too busy adjusting the strap of a designer shopping bag over his shoulder while simultaneously making sure Annabeth didn’t trip over her own feet as she scrolled through her phone.

"Percy, look at this," Annabeth murmured, her voice like honey. She held the screen up to his face. "The bakery on 5th just posted their seasonal macaron flavors. Lavender honey. We have to go after your meeting."

Percy leaned down, his 6’0 frame hovering protectively over her 5’0 stature. He didn't even glance at the phone; he just looked at her. Her light brown boho knotless braids were pulled back into a high, bouncy ponytail that swayed as she moved. Her skin, a rich, warm brown, glowed under the LED lights of the elevator, and her chocolate-brown eyes were wide with excitement.

"Baby, we can go right now if you want," Percy said, his voice dropping an octave, thick with a casual devotion that would have made his father’s board of directors faint. "The meeting isn't for another twenty minutes. I’ll tell Paul to push it."

Annabeth giggled, a soft, bubbly sound that filled the small space. She reached up, her small hand resting against his chest, right over the lapel of a navy suit jacket that cost more than most people’s cars. "No, you have to be a professional. Your dad is already annoyed that you skipped the morning briefing to take me to get my nails done."

Percy snorted, reaching out to tuck a stray braid behind her ear. "My dad knows the deal. He gets my brain, but he doesn't get to dictate my time. If I want to spend three hours watching you pick out the perfect shade of 'soft petal pink,' then that’s what I’m doing. He can deal with it."

The elevator chimed, the doors sliding open to the executive floor. This was the heart of the empire, a place of high-stakes mergers and cold, calculated business. Percy stepped out, looking like the definition of a golden boy—blonde curls perfectly messy, blue eyes sharp and intelligent, and a swagger that suggested he owned the air everyone else was breathing.

He wasn't wearing a tie. His top two buttons were undone, and he was carrying a pink shopping bag from a high-end boutique in one hand while his other arm was firmly wrapped around Annabeth’s waist.

The receptionist, a woman who had worked for Poseidon for fifteen years, didn't even blink. She just nodded. "Good morning, Mr. Jackson. Miss Annabeth. Your father is in the conference room."

"Thanks, Marge," Percy said, not slowing down.

As they walked through the open-plan office, heads turned. It wasn't just because Percy was the heir apparent and a certified genius who had redesigned the company’s entire logistical algorithm at nineteen. It was because of the girl attached to his hip. Annabeth was a vision of soft, girly aesthetics—today she wore a white sundress with tiny yellow daisies and a pair of expensive, fluffy Ugg slides. She looked like a ray of sunshine in a room full of grey suits.

Percy stopped by his desk just long enough to drop his briefcase. He pulled out his chair for Annabeth.

"Sit here, princess. I’ll get you a sparkling water. Do you want the lemon or the lime one?"

"Lime, please," she said, swinging her legs as she sat. "And can you find my charger? My phone is at ten percent."

Percy was on it instantly. He didn't care that three senior analysts were standing nearby, waiting to talk to him about the quarterly projections. He rummaged through his drawer, found her gold-plated charger, plugged it in, and kissed the top of her head.

"Percy," a booming voice echoed from the hallway.

Poseidon stepped out of his office. The CEO of Olympus Holdings was a formidable man with the same sea-blue eyes as his son, though his were usually clouded with the stress of running a multi-billion dollar firm. He looked at Percy, then at the shopping bag, then at Annabeth, who gave him a bright, cheerful wave.

"Hi, Mr. Jackson!" she chirped.

Poseidon sighed, the sound of a man who had long ago accepted defeat. A year ago, he would have lectured Percy on "professional boundaries" and "corporate image." He would have demanded Percy wear a tie and leave his girlfriend at home. But then Percy had saved the company forty million dollars in a single afternoon by finding a loophole in a shipping contract that no one else had seen. Percy was a prodigy, a brilliant mind wrapped in a rebel’s attitude, and Poseidon knew that if he pushed too hard, Percy would simply walk out the door and start his own firm.

And Percy wouldn't go anywhere without Annabeth.

"Percy," Poseidon said, ignoring the fact that his son was currently opening a bottle of Perrier for a nineteen-year-old girl in the middle of a workspace. "The Japanese delegation is in the boardroom. They are asking for the lead architect of the new project. That’s you."

"Give me five minutes," Percy said, not looking up as he handed the water to Annabeth. "I’m making sure she’s settled."

"Percy, the meeting started five minutes ago," Poseidon pointed out, though there was no real heat in it.

Percy finally looked at his father. "And they’ll wait. Because I’m the only one who can explain the structural integrity of the offshore platforms to them in a way that doesn't make them want to jump out a window. Annabeth, do you have your iPad? Do you want to draw?"

"I'm okay, Percy," she said, blushing slightly at the attention. "Go to your meeting. I'll just be here looking at Pinterest."

Percy leaned in, ignoring his father entirely. "If you get bored, you come into the boardroom, okay? Don't sit out here if these assholes are being too loud. You just walk right in."

"Percy, don't swear in the office," Poseidon muttered, though he was already turning back toward the boardroom.

"I'll swear wherever the fuck I want, Dad," Percy replied casually, giving Annabeth one last lingering kiss on the cheek. "I’ll be back in thirty. I love you."

"Love you too," she whispered, her brown eyes sparkling.

Percy straightened his shoulders, his expression shifting from soft adoration to cold, intellectual dominance in a split second. He walked into the boardroom, leaving the door slightly ajar so he could keep an ear out for Annabeth.

Inside, the atmosphere was tense. Six men in charcoal suits sat around a mahogany table. Poseidon took his seat at the head. Percy didn't sit. He walked straight to the digital whiteboard, picked up a stylus, and started drawing complex geometric structures.

"The issue isn't the depth," Percy said, skipping the pleasantries. "The issue is the current. You’re trying to build a static structure in a fluid environment. It’s fucking stupid. You need a modular base that shifts with the pressure."

One of the delegates blinked. "Mr. Jackson, we have spent months on these designs—"

"Then you’ve spent months being wrong," Percy interrupted, his blue eyes flashing. "Look at the math. If you don't adjust for the thermal expansion of the alloy, the whole thing snaps by year three. Now, listen to me, because I’m only going to say this once..."

For twenty minutes, Percy dismantled their entire project and rebuilt it into something flawless. He was arrogant, blunt, and undeniably the smartest person in the room. Even Poseidon watched with a mix of pride and exhaustion. His son was a force of nature.

Halfway through his explanation of hydraulic stabilization, the door creaked open.

Annabeth peeked her head in. She looked small and sweet, her braids framed by the heavy oak door. "Percy?"

The entire room went silent. The Japanese delegates looked confused. Poseidon rubbed his temples.

Percy’s entire demeanor flipped. The sharp, biting edge of his voice vanished instantly. "Yeah, baby? What’s up? You okay?"

"I'm hungry," she said softly, stepping into the room. She didn't seem intimidated by the powerful men or the high-stakes atmosphere. She only had eyes for Percy. "And the vending machine took my dollar."

Percy dropped the stylus as if it were trash. "That piece of shit machine. I told them to replace that last week."

He walked over to her, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wad of cash that would have covered a month’s rent for most people. He didn't even look at the money; he just handed her a hundred-dollar bill.

"Go down to the cafe on the first floor. Get whatever you want. Get two of those chocolate croissants you like. Actually, wait." He turned to the room. "We’re taking fifteen."

"Percy," Poseidon warned. "We are in the middle of a billion-dollar negotiation."

"And my girl is hungry," Percy snapped, his blue eyes turning icy as he looked at his father. "The billion dollars isn't going anywhere. The croissants might. We’re taking a break."

He didn't wait for an answer. He took Annabeth’s hand, interlacing his fingers with hers, and led her out of the room.

Downstairs in the lobby cafe, Percy stood in line with her, his arm draped heavily over her shoulders. He kept pulling her close, kissing the temple of her head, completely unbothered by the stares of the employees grabbing their mid-morning coffee.

"You don't have to leave your meeting for me, Percy," Annabeth said, though she leaned into his warmth. "I could have waited."

"I don't want you to wait," he said, his voice low and private. "I don't give a damn about that meeting, Annabeth. I do this shit so I can buy you whatever you want. I do it so we can live how we want. If it starts taking away from you, then it’s not worth doing."

He reached out and touched one of her braids, his thumb brushing the gold cuff she had clipped onto it. "You look so beautiful today, Annabeth. I can barely concentrate."

She blushed, a deep, lovely rose color creeping up her neck. "You're such a liar. You were in there calling people stupid and drawing circles."

"They were being stupid," he countered with a grin. "And they weren't circles, they were pressure-resistant spheres. But I’d rather be looking at you."

He bought her two croissants, a fruit tart, and a large iced coffee with extra caramel. When they got back upstairs, he didn't put her back at his desk. He led her straight into his father’s private office—the inner sanctum of the company.

"Stay in here," Percy said, gesturing to the plush leather sofa. "It’s quieter. My dad’s got the good snacks in the cabinet behind the desk. Eat your breakfast, okay?"

"Is your dad going to be mad?" she asked, eyeing the massive mahogany desk.

"He can be as mad as he wants," Percy said, leaning down to give her a slow, deep kiss that left her slightly breathless. "He knows I’m the only reason this company is still top of the market. He won't say a word."

Percy walked back into the boardroom five minutes later. He sat down, propped his feet up on the billion-dollar table, and looked at the delegates.

"Alright, where were we? Right. The spheres. Let’s finish this so I can take my girlfriend to the park."

The meeting lasted another hour, but Percy was efficient. He tore through the remaining problems with surgical precision. By the time he was done, the delegates were nodding in awe, scribbling notes as fast as they could.

As the room cleared out, Poseidon stayed behind. He watched his son stretch, the expensive fabric of his shirt straining against his shoulders.

"You're a menace, Percy," Poseidon said, though there was a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm a genius, Dad. Get it right," Percy said, heading for the door.

"She’s a good girl, Percy. Annabeth. She keeps you grounded. But try to remember that this is a place of business."

Percy stopped at the door and looked back. "No, Dad. This is a place where I spend time until I can go back to being with her. Don't get it twisted. I work for you because I like the challenge, but I live for her. If you ever make her feel like she’s a distraction or an inconvenience, I’m gone. Clear?"

Poseidon looked at his son—the blonde hair, the defiant blue eyes, the raw talent. He knew Percy wasn't bluffing. Percy Jackson didn't bluff.

"Clear," Poseidon sighed. "Go. Take her to the park. Just make sure the final blueprints are on my desk by Monday."

"Sunday," Percy said, already halfway out the door. "I’ll do them Sunday night while she’s sleeping. See ya, Dad."

Percy burst into his father’s office to find Annabeth curled up on the sofa, her shoes off, scrolling through a textbook. She was a student, too—studying architecture, and she was just as brilliant as he was, though far more humble about it.

"Ready to go, princess?" Percy asked, his voice softening instantly.

She looked up, a bright smile breaking across her face. "Did you finish your big important work?"

"Done and dusted," he said, reaching down to help her put her slides back on. He knelt on the floor, unashamed, sliding the fluffy footwear onto her small feet. "I was thinking we go to the park, then maybe that jewelry spot you liked on Instagram? The one with the handmade gold anklets?"

Annabeth’s eyes lit up. "The ones with the little sea shells?"

"Whatever you want," Percy said, standing up and pulling her into his arms. He lifted her easily, spinning her around once while she laughed. "If you want the whole shop, I’ll buy the whole shop."

"I just want one, Percy," she giggled, her hands resting on his neck.

"We'll see," he murmured, kissing her nose.

They walked out of the office together, past the rows of desks, past the staring employees, and past the CEO. Percy Jackson, the prodigy of Olympus Holdings, didn't look at a single spreadsheet on his way out. He only looked at the girl in the daisy dress, making sure she was smiling, making sure she was happy, spoiling her with every breath he took.

As they stepped back into the elevator, Percy pressed the button for the lobby and then immediately pulled Annabeth against him, his hands resting on her waist.

"You know," Annabeth said, looking up at him through her lashes. "People think you're scary."

Percy grinned, his blue eyes dancing with mischief. "I am scary. I’m a cold-hearted, arrogant businessman, remember?"

Annabeth reached up, adjusting his messy blonde curls. "You’re a big softie. You’re literally carrying my leftovers in a silk bag."

Percy looked down at the bag in his hand, then back at her. "Only for you, Annabeth. Only for you."

The doors opened, and they stepped out into the New York sun, the golden boy and his princess, ready to take on the world—or at least, ready to find the perfect lavender honey macaron.