Mysterious Personal Shopper Mga Nobela at Kwento

I'm literally living my best life at this point. I parked and walked in. I'm spending so much money, and it excited me because I was spending it all on him. It was one of the most expensive male stores in the city, and I was welcomed warmly. Due to how expensive it was, I was given my personal shopper who is also a staff. She seemed to be in her early twenties. She followed me around, helping me pick wears based on Trey's size. “Your husband should count himself very lucky. You're so stylish, no wonder he's stylish too.” She complimented me, especially after taking in my outfit.

Maybe she owns the salon? “There you are, Sir! Gosh! I already sent the dresses and shoes to the address you gave. I’ll pick up the bags tomorrow. Where’s madam? Oh, it’s you! Hello, I’m Karen. Personal shopper and fashion guru. I’ll teach you everything you need to know... dressing up, makeup, what suits you and what doesn’t.”

Yet, he'd asked me to trust him, so I was trying. He pushed Nathan’s stroller, guiding me into a private room that was pure excess. Too many mirrors, overly plush seating, and a blinding chandelier transformed the space into a sparkling, suffocating cage. My personal shopper ushered me behind a curtain to reveal racks of clothing she claimed to have selected for me. How she’d managed to guess my size was beyond me. I hadn’t bothered to check the label on anything in months.

“Fine, anything else?” “If you ask me to dress up for an event and don't show up, please don't mock me behind my back. I heard your comments about our planned meeting at the restaurant opening. Please inform me if you won't be present. I was unsure how to react when people made terrible critiques about my outfit. That’s why I don’t know if I can trust you with this special shopper person. I feel like I’m walking into a trap.” “Image consultant and personal shopper. Albert found one who will accept our limitations.”

Tall, blond, beautiful, and curvaceous, she was the complete opposite of Sinclair. She ducked her head when the lady approached them with an enticing smile. "Viscount Redington," raising her hand, waiting for something. Nicholas inclined his head before nodding at the bewildered woman before them. Tightening his hold on Sinclair's tiny waist, he uttered, "sweetheart, this is Melody, my sisters' personal shopper. She will be assisting us today." The lady perked up and smiled widely. "My lady, a pleasure to meet you." Surprised by her greeting, Sinclair looked up and blushed. The personal shopper was delighted to meet her. A commoner. "I am..."

She won't realize she's picking out her own wardrobe for me, piece by delicate piece. Second: confirm a monthly subscription for a personal shopper. She'll sigh, annoyed at the extravagance. But she'll dutifully tick through the checklist: wine, chocolate, pens, a brand of lotion she buys only when she's feeling indulgent. All her favorites. I picture her frowning, confused when the packages arrive at her door in a few days. She'll think it's a mistake, maybe even a pleasant one. Luck. Coincidence. She won't trace it back to me—yet.

The memory of that night in Hawaii—the taste of her, the sound of her laugh, the way she looked at me not with sycophantic awe, but with a fiery, defiant challenge—it’s branded into me. It has never happened before. No woman has ever lingered like this, a ghost in my boardrooms and a phantom in my penthouse. “Sir, I think you should watch this.” My secretary’s voice cut through the turmoil. His tone was carefully neutral, but I caught the underlying tension. He handed me a tablet. On the screen, a headline blazed in bold, black type, accompanied by a crystal-clear photo of Emily and me during one of our dates. “FROM ONE BILLIONAIRE TO ANOTHER: THE MYSTERIOUS MS. CARTER, THE ONLY ONE WHO CONQ

I say in a light, scared voice that I hate so much. “Okay, I have a personal shopper, and she will help you. She knows what I like.” I cleared my throat and left my eyes to meet his. We stare at one another for a moment. Charles stands and immediately turns his back to button his suit jacket. “How about I show you around.”

Whenever he arrived at night, Desire would’ve been sleeping already and all he’ll do is sleep next to her and by the time Desire wakes up by morning, he’s gone. Desire longed to talk about what happened between them but she never had the chance. She felt him distancing himself from her but she kept on giving an excuse that it was because of how busy he’s gotten. “You May come in” Desire called out after she heard a knock on the door. The same handmaiden that the Queen had always sent to her came into the room, holding an elegant ball dress in hand with a pair of beautiful sandals and a necklace that shines like Gold. Desire couldn’t stop looking at the dress and everything they were holding.

And he was still silent. After a long time, he spoke with his voice as gentle as before, “Estelle, are you afraid of this tie? Well, the checks on the tie are indeed a little dense, and you may feel uneasy when seeing them. But in my memory, you don’t have trypophobia, do you?” Estelle didn’t say anything but stared at him with a wary look. “Did you buy this tie yourself?” “No,” Mr. Mysterious answered. “My clothes and accessories were all bought by my assistant. I seldom buy them in person.”