Angelica is the definitive definition of a princess. At twenty-two, she has perfected the art of the pout, the flutter of her platinum-blonde lashes, and the specific, melodic tone of voice that makes her Daddy’s credit card materialize out of thin air. She is loud, she is gorgeous, and she is unabashedly the center of her own universe. To her father, she is the sun around which his world rotates—a bratty delight he simply cannot resist spoiling.
Last Saturday, the pair hit Rodeo Drive, and it was a display of pure, unadulterated luxury. Angelica marched into the high-end boutiques with the confidence of royalty entering a throne room. She didn’t just shop; she curated a lifestyle. If a designer bag caught her eye, it was hers. If she liked the fit of a silk gown, it was added to the pile. She was being particularly bratty that afternoon, spinning in circles on the velvet rugs and demanding her father choose between two pairs of diamond-encrusted heels.
“Daddy, this store is so boring, I need something that screams ‘princess’,” she teased, flashing a grin that could melt granite. She grabbed a limited-edition leather jacket, tossed it over her shoulder, and batted her eyes at him. She knew exactly what she was doing. Every time he hesitated at the price tag, she would lean in, whisper a playful jab about how he wasn’t keeping his favorite girl happy, and he would sheepishly hand over the black card.
Watching her, you couldn’t help but see the bratty glint in her blue eyes. She loved the power of it—the way she could command an entire shop’s staff to move faster simply because she was the princess of the moment. She spent his money with the casual elegance of a queen, occasionally stopping to kiss his cheek before darting off to the next rack.
By the time they reached the car, her arms were overflowing with shopping bags, and her father’s bank account was significantly lighter. Angelica didn’t offer a moment of remorse. Instead, she slid into the passenger seat, kicked off her shoes, and declared that she was hungry for the most expensive caviar in the city. She was, and would always be, the ultimate bratty princess, and honestly? She wouldn’t have it any other way.