BINI IMAGINES

Mikha

CEO GIRLFRIEND | ONESHOT

THIRD PERSON POV

Bev had never been inside a luxury boutique quite like this before. The scent of expensive leather and designer perfumes lingered in the air, the soft melody of a grand piano playing in the background. Everything around her screamed exclusivity—just like the woman standing beside her, casually flipping through racks of dresses like their price tags were mere decorations.

Mikha Lim, her CEO girlfriend, had dragged her here after a long morning of back-to-back meetings. Bev had jokingly mentioned needing a new outfit for an upcoming event, and before she knew it, she was being chauffeured to a luxury store, Mikha's black card ready for swiping.

"Try this one, baby," Mikha said, holding up a sleek, black satin dress. "I think it'll look perfect on you."

Bev took the dress hesitantly. "Mikha, I don't think—"

"Shh," Mikha cut her off with a smirk, placing a finger on her lips. "Everything you try on today is on me. No buts."

Bev rolled her eyes but couldn't fight the warmth in her chest. Mikha wasn't just buying her things—she was staking her claim in a way only a CEO could.

After trying on a few dresses, Bev stepped out in a deep red one, the fabric hugging her curves perfectly. Mikha, seated in one of the plush chairs, leaned back, eyes darkening as she took her in.

"That one," Mikha murmured, standing up and walking toward her. She trailed a finger down Bev's arm before slipping it around her waist, pulling her close. "We're taking this."

Bev swallowed. "Mikha, you don't have to—"

"Sweetheart," Mikha interrupted smoothly, her lips brushing against Bev's ear, "I'm your girlfriend. Let me spoil you."

Bev was about to argue when Mikha gave her a look—the kind that left no room for negotiation. With a sigh, she let her girlfriend handle the transaction, the black card swiping effortlessly while the staff beamed at them.

As they walked out, Mikha's arm draped possessively around her waist, she whispered, "You're wearing that tonight. No arguments."

Bev just shook her head, but she couldn't hide her smile.

-

The restaurant Mikha had chosen for the evening was nothing short of extravagant. Dim lighting, velvet curtains, and the faint hum of a live jazz band set the perfect mood. It was a high-profile business dinner, one where investors and executives gathered over overpriced wine and veiled conversations.

And here Bev was, in the deep red dress Mikha had insisted on, catching the eyes of more people than she was comfortable with.

Mikha, on the other hand, looked like she was in her element—tailored black suit, hair slicked back just enough to emphasize her sharp features, and that confident, almost lazy smirk that she wore so well.