Love
The Velvet Rope and the Diamond District
The jewelry boutique was located in a part of the city where the sidewalks were scrubbed clean every morning and the security guards wore suits that cost more than most people's rent. As the black SUV pulled up to the curb, the valet immediately recognized the vehicle. Everyone in this district knew the Jackson name, but more importantly, they knew the blonde-haired prodigy who didn't care about the price tag as long as his girlfriend was smiling.
Percy stepped out first, his tall frame unfolding from the car with a grace that spoke of athletic youth and unearned confidence. He turned back, offering his hand to Annabeth. When she stepped out, her soft pink sundress fluttering in the breeze, the contrast between them was striking. He was all sharp edges and expensive tailoring; she was soft curves, rich brown skin, and those shimmering boho braids that danced around her shoulders.
"This place looks intimidating, Percy," Annabeth whispered, her brown eyes taking in the frosted glass and the silent, imposing door.
Percy snorted, tucking her arm firmly under his. "It’s just a store, baby. If they’re lucky, we might actually buy something. If they give you a weird look, I’ll buy the building and turn it into a communal garden just to spite them."
Annabeth giggled, the sound bright and bubbly. "You’re so dramatic. Don't go buying buildings today, please? My heart can only take so much."
"No promises," Percy murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head.
As they approached the door, the security guard—a man who looked like he’d been carved out of granite—immediately straightened his posture. He didn’t even ask for identification. He simply pulled the door open with a respectful nod.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Jackson. Miss Chase."
"Hey, Marcus," Percy said casually, not even glancing at the man as they swept past. He knew everyone's name, not because he was particularly social, but because he was a genius who never forgot a face or a detail. It was one of the things that made him terrifying in a negotiation.
The interior of the boutique was silent, smelling of expensive lilies and floor wax. A woman in a charcoal grey dress suit approached them, her smile practiced and perfectly neutral.
"Mr. Jackson, we’ve been expecting you. Mr. Solange has prepared the private viewing room."
"Good," Percy said, his voice taking on that clipped, executive tone. He didn't like wasting time. "We’re looking for something unique. Nothing mass-produced. I want something that looks like it was made specifically for her."
The woman bowed her head slightly. "Of course. Right this way."
They were led into a plush back room with velvet-lined walls and deep, comfortable armchairs. Almost immediately, a tray of champagne and sparkling water appeared. Annabeth settled into the chair, her small frame almost swallowed by the fabric. She looked like a queen on a throne, her light brown braids draped over one shoulder, her brown skin glowing under the soft, recessed lighting.
Percy didn't sit. He stood behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders, his thumbs tracing the line of her collarbone. He was protective, a golden-haired dragon guarding his most precious treasure.
Mr. Solange, the lead designer, entered with a black velvet tray. He began laying out pieces—necklaces with teardrop emeralds, bracelets encrusted with pink diamonds, and rings that caught the light in a dizzying array of fractals.
Annabeth leaned forward, her eyes wide. "Oh, Percy... these are way too much."
"Nonsense," Percy said, his eyes scanning the tray with a critical, clinical gaze. He saw the flaws in the stones that the average person wouldn't notice. "That emerald has a feather inclusion in the top left facet. Take it away. The pink diamonds are too pale; they wash her out."
The designer blinked, looking surprised. "You have a very keen eye, Mr. Jackson."
"I don't pay for mediocrity," Percy replied coldly. "Show me the high-carat Canary diamonds. The ones with the warm undertones."
Annabeth reached out, her fingers hovering over a delicate gold chain with a single, honey-colored diamond pendant. "This one is pretty. It looks like a little drop of sun."
Percy’s expression softened instantly. The cold executive vanished the moment she spoke. He leaned over her, looking at the piece. "You like that one?"
"It’s beautiful," she whispered. "It’s not too loud. It’s just... sweet."
"Put it on her," Percy commanded the designer.
As the designer moved to assist, Percy stepped in the way. "I’ve got it."
He took the necklace, his large fingers surprisingly nimble as he unhooked the clasp. Annabeth lifted her braids, baring the back of her neck. Percy’s breath hitched slightly as he leaned in, the scent of her cocoa butter lotion hitting him like a physical wave. He fastened the gold chain, his fingers lingering on her skin for a second longer than necessary.
He stepped back to look at her. The honey-colored diamond sat perfectly against her chest, the warm gold metal complementing the rich tones of her skin.
"God, you’re stunning," he muttered, loud enough for only her to hear.
"You like it?" she asked, her voice bubbly with excitement.
"I love it. We’ll take it," Percy said, turning to the designer. "And the matching studs. And that gold cuff over there."
"Percy!" Annabeth protested, though she was blushing. "The necklace is enough!"
"It’s never enough," he countered, pulling out his black titanium card. "Wrap them up. She’s wearing the necklace out."
While the designer scurried away to process the transaction, Percy’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, his brow furrowing as he read the text.
"Is it your dad?" Annabeth asked, sensing the shift in his energy.
"Yeah. He’s pissed because I skipped the legal debrief. Apparently, the Underworld Group is trying to claw back some of the maritime rights in the Atlantic sector," Percy sighed, tucking the phone away. "He wants me to jump on a conference call."
Annabeth stood up, smoothing down her sundress. "You should go do it, Percy. It’s important."
Percy looked at her, his blue eyes intense. "You’re more important. Fuck the maritime rights. Let them argue with the lawyers for an hour. I’m with you."
"Percy, I’m literally just going to be sitting in the car or back at the office," she said, reaching up to cup his face. Her small, soft hand looked tiny against his jaw. "Go be the genius. I’ll go get us some of those fancy boba teas from the place around the corner, and I’ll meet you back at the car in twenty minutes. It’ll give you time to yell at whoever is being annoying."
Percy leaned into her touch, his eyes closing for a brief moment. She was his anchor. Without her, he was just a shark, constantly moving, constantly biting. With her, he felt like he could actually breathe.
"Fine," he relented. "But you take Marcus with you. I don't want you walking around this block alone, even if it is the 'safe' district."
Annabeth rolled her eyes playfully. "I’m nineteen, Percy, not nine. I can buy tea by myself."
"I don't give a shit how old you are," he said, his voice turning low and possessive. "You’re my world. If someone so much as looks at you the wrong way, I’ll lose my mind. Take Marcus, or we stay together and I ignore the call."
Annabeth knew that tone. It was the same tone he used when he was about to hostile-takeover a tech firm. There was no arguing with it. "Okay, okay. I’ll take the giant scary man with me to get strawberry matcha."
"Good girl." He kissed her deeply, a hard, hungry kiss that made her toes curl in her sandals. "Twenty minutes. If you’re not back at the car, I’m sending out a search party."
***
Twenty minutes later, Percy was pacing the sidewalk next to the SUV, his phone pressed to his ear. He looked like a caged tiger, his blonde hair messy from where he’d been running his hands through it.
"I don't care what the contract says, Gabe!" Percy barked into the phone. "If they want the shipping lanes, they pay the premium. We aren't a charity. Tell them if they don't sign the revised Annex B by five p.m., the deal is dead. I’ll sell the fleet to the Chinese before I give it to Hades for a discount. Yeah. You heard me. Do your fucking job."
He hung up, his chest heaving. He hated these people. They were so slow, so unimaginative.
Then, he saw her.
Annabeth was walking down the sidewalk, a bright green boba tea in each hand, laughing at something Marcus was saying. The sunlight hit her braids, making the gold beads shimmer. She looked so happy, so untroubled by the world of millions and billions that he lived in.
The anger drained out of him instantly.
"You're late," he said as she reached him, though there was no bite in his words. He reached out, taking the drinks from her so she could climb into the car.
"I’m two minutes late, Percy. The line was long," she said, poking his cheek as she slid onto the leather seat. "Did you finish your mean business call?"
"I told them to fuck off, more or less," Percy said, climbing in after her and pulling her into his side. He took a long sip of the tea she handed him. "God, this is actually good. What is it?"
"Honey jasmine with lychee jelly," she said proudly. "I knew you’d like it."
They spent the afternoon driving around the city, Percy pointing out buildings he’d helped acquire and Annabeth talking about how she’d redesign their lobbies to be more "inviting." He listened to every word she said, his eyes fixed on her face like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.
By the time they headed back to the Olympian Holdings building to pick up Percy’s laptop, the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of bruised purple and fiery orange.
As they walked through the lobby, they ran into Poseidon again. The CEO was standing by the reception desk, talking to a group of investors. When he saw Percy and Annabeth, he paused.
Poseidon’s eyes went to the new diamond necklace around Annabeth’s neck, then to the shopping bags in Marcus’s hands, and finally to his son’s relaxed, happy expression.
"I take it the afternoon was productive?" Poseidon asked, his voice dry.
"Extremely," Percy said, not missing a beat. "I handled the Hades situation from the car. They’ll sign by five."
Poseidon blinked. "You handled a forty-million-dollar dispute while getting... what is that? Green tea?"
"Jasmine," Percy corrected. "And yeah. It wasn't that hard. They’re predictable. Anyway, we’re heading home. I’ve got some research to do for tomorrow's meeting, but I’m doing it from the couch while Annabeth watches her reality shows."
One of the investors, a grey-haired man in an expensive suit, looked at Annabeth with a patronizing smile. "It must be nice, young lady, to have such a... dedicated escort. Most girls your age are stuck in lecture halls."
The air in the lobby seemed to drop ten degrees.
Percy stepped forward, his blue eyes turning into chips of ice. He was several inches taller than the investor, and he used every bit of that height to intimidate.
"She’s not 'most girls,'" Percy said, his voice dangerously quiet. "She’s a genius in her own right. She’s currently designing a sustainable urban garden project that’s going to make your portfolio look like a joke. And if you ever refer to her as a 'young lady' in that tone again, I’ll make sure your firm is blacklisted from every Olympian venture for the next decade. Do we have a problem?"
The investor paled, stepping back. "I... I meant no offense, Mr. Jackson."
"Then keep your mouth shut," Percy snapped.
Annabeth reached out, her small hand catching Percy’s arm. "Percy, it’s okay. Let’s just go."
Percy took a deep breath, the tension leaving his shoulders at her touch, though he still glared at the man. He turned back to his father. "See you tomorrow, Dad. Don't let the idiots bore you to death."
Poseidon watched them walk toward the elevators. He shook his head, a small, tired smile on his face. He looked at the stunned investor. "I’d listen to him if I were you. He’s much meaner than I am, and he has a lot more free time to ruin you."
***
Back at Percy’s penthouse, the lights of the city twinkled below them through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The apartment was a masterpiece of modern design—cold, sleek, and expensive. But Annabeth had softened it. There were colorful throw pillows on the couch, sketches pinned to the walls, and the scent of her vanilla candles in the air.
Percy was sitting on the oversized velvet sofa, his laptop open on his knees, his fingers flying across the keys as he analyzed market trends. Annabeth was curled up next to him, her head in his lap, her light brown braids spread out across his thighs like a silk fan. She was scrolling through her iPad, humming softly.
Every few minutes, Percy would reach down, his hand finding her hair or the soft skin of her arm, just to ground himself.
"Hey, Perce?" she asked, looking up at him.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Why do you do that? The thing with the investor today?"
Percy paused his typing, looking down at her. "What thing? Being an asshole? That’s just my personality."
"No," she said, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw. "The way you always defend me. The way you make sure everyone knows I’m not just... some girl."
Percy closed his laptop and set it on the coffee table. He shifted, pulling her up so she was sitting across his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist. He looked at her with an intensity that was almost overwhelming.
"Because you're not 'some girl,' Annabeth. You're the girl. You’re the person who makes me want to be more than just a walking calculator. People see the blonde hair and the trust fund and they think I’m just lucky. They don't see the work. And they look at you and they see a beautiful girl and they assume you're just an accessory."
He tucked a stray braid behind her ear, his thumb lingering on her cheek.
"I want them to be afraid of you," he whispered. "I want them to know that you're the most important person in this city, because you're the only person I answer to. If I’m a prodigy, it’s because you give me a reason to be. I spoil you because I can. I spoil you because seeing you happy is the only thing that makes all the corporate bullshit feel worth it."
Annabeth’s eyes softened, turning a warm, honey-brown in the dim light. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his. "You're a big, soft nerd, Percy Jackson."
"Only for you," he murmured, his hands sliding down to her hips, pulling her closer. "Only for you, Annie."
He kissed her then, a slow, deep kiss that tasted like home. Outside, the city continued its frantic, neon-lit dance, full of people fighting for power and money. But inside the penthouse, none of that mattered. There was just a boy who was too smart for his own good and a girl who was the only thing he couldn't live without.
Percy pulled back, a smirk returning to his face. "Now, did you see those shoes we passed in the lobby of the boutique? The ones with the gold heels?"
Annabeth laughed, throwing her head back. "Percy! No more gifts today!"
"Too late," he said, reaching for his phone. "I already messaged Marcus to go back and get them. They’ll be here by breakfast."
"You're impossible," she sighed, though she was beaming.
"I’m a prodigy," he corrected, nipping at her earlobe. "I know exactly what I’m doing."