Characters Apparel Novels & Stories

He knew very well that, Rayland just arrived, and he had nothing, narrowing his eyes on the list, he looked up and pushed two trolleys around the store, He chose, lavender and turquoise instead of the natural pink and blue, choosing also, green, yellow and blue/pink equipment. Once he got two of everything on his list, he went to the clothing aisle and walked around. Chris stopped when he felt his heart squeeze. On the rack, there was a white short-sleeved bodysuit with a picture of a strawberry on it and writing, ‘Daddy’s little strawberry.’ Chris smiled and picked it up. Looking at the size, he picked one of each size so that Parisa would always have one, no matter how big she gets. Walkin

I was ready to offer my help, so I replied with a grin, "Don't worry, we'll start working on it right away, beginning with your appearance." Alex chimed in, adopting a gentle but assertive tone, "Although your casual style with Converse and worn-out t-shirts is cool, it's time to step it up a notch. Jasper has provided us with some amazing clothes, and it's time to showcase them." Cassandra's expression shifted from excitement to unease.

A long charcoal coat with sculpted shoulders. A silk black jumpsuit with a single gold button. Trousers that whispered control with every step. Heels that didn’t need height to command attention. The assistant recognized me instantly. “Back so soon?” she asked with a grin. I smiled. “Just getting started.” She didn’t ask what for. She didn’t need to. She simply helped — gentle hands, quiet respect. I wasn’t shopping to impress anymore. I was choosing armor. And I was done apologizing for it.

There were dozens of suits, each one with the same arrogant tag, like a silent declaration: this is mine, and so are you if I want. I moved on, pushing past the endless parade of suits and shirts. There were casual clothes, too—high-end brands like Tom Ford, Brioni, and Balmain—mixed in with more pieces carrying that insufferable A. Costello tag. Even his sweats were tailored, because of course they were. “Christ, this guy really thinks he’s something,” I muttered under my breath. I needed something comfortable enough to wear according to my size. As I continued rifling through his things, I found a few pairs of joggers and T-shirts, all neatly pressed. I grabbed a pair and threw them on the

CJ whispers in my ear as we go down the stairs. I just smile at him since he had told me the same thing not too long ago as he was zipping the back of the dress. It's an off shoulder floral flary yellow with a little bit of detail at the bottom. It's what you'd call a simple busy dress. Not my type of clothing but it's beautiful. Zara has always had taste in her choice of clothing. And since I'm a bit bigger than her, my breasts have been squeezed and the waistline is a bit too tight.

They still are and I want to smile but I can't. "That must hurt a bunch." Cara laughs and goes back to picking out some jeans and a dangerously short and ripped crop top. She turns to me and places it on her chest. "They would be a perfect match, no?" I regard the combination and nod. They would. The jean is a deep ash color and the top is the same, some famous designer's logo on them and the side of the already short top sporting uniform rips. It would look okay on her, she has the curves to pull it off.

"There are only three. Mommy, which one of us dropped them?" Jessie did not dare to look at the man's face beside her. She said weakly, "Sorry, there are only three pieces of this model of parental clothing. There are no father's pieces. I saw that the ones printed on it were Felix and Fia's favorite anime characters, so I bought them." Alex: ". . ." After a while, he said coldly, "No need to apologize. Do you think I care about this dress?"

She asked me why she should try it, and I told her, "Why don't you give it a shot?" Despite the fact that this was a store that specialized in selling clothing at low prices, it is abundantly clear that each and every item in this shop is of an exceptionally high standard. When Ares purchased a large quantity of clothing for me from a variety of different fashion brands, I requested that he purchase clothing for me from each of those brands. When I saw how well preserved all of these garments are, I couldn't help but reflect on how unlucky it is for me to be in the position that I am.

The person who ordered it is one of our biggest clients. “What is this?” I ask slowly. “Can you tell me what they ordered?” Eric asks, but I have a feeling he already knows the answer. I amuse him anyway. “An auburn silk scarf, a faux cheetah print fur coat, leather black pants, a Tiffany-blue fitted blouse, and black strap up boots,” I remember the design specifically because it’s one of our more flashy ones of the line. Eric nods in agreement. “So, can you tell me why Mr. Arrington received a navy sports dress with a pair of white raised tennis shoes?”

“Business, formal, casual. Everything is in your size.” Another assistant places a bottle of sparkling water on ice near Cade before disappearing. “The longer you stand there, the longer this takes,” Cade says, not even looking up from his phone as he settles onto the sofa. I groan, grabbing the nearest rack and wheeling it into the dressing room. I start pulling on skirts and blouses, and despite my anger, a small part of me relaxes. The fabrics are high-end. Soft silks and buttery jerseys that don’t pinch or bind. I start to feel less like a disposable incubator and more like a human being.