Casey's gaze dropped to Ethan's abdomen and for a moment, she forgot to breathe.
His abs looked as though they had been sculpted by a master craftsman. Every line was clean, every contour precise. There was no awkward asymmetry, no excessive bulk just perfectly balanced definition, firm and natural.
Ethan's physique was striking in a way that felt effortless. It wasn't the exaggerated, inflated muscle mass of someone obsessed with the gym, but something smoother—lean, toned, and solid. His fair skin carried a healthy glow under the fitting room lights, making the lines of his body even more pronounced.
Casey swallowed.
"Sir…" her voice wavered slightly, "how many days a week do you work out?"
"I don't work out."
"No way." Casey shook her head immediately, disbelief written all over her face. "You've never worked out? Stop lying. How can you have a physique like this?"
Ethan casually picked up the suit jacket and slipped it on, speaking as he adjusted it. "It's natural."
If you had to juggle three physically demanding jobs just to survive, he thought inwardly, you wouldn't need a gym either.
Casey fell silent.
Comparing people only breeds frustration—just like comparing products often leads to discarding them altogether.
Once dressed, Ethan turned toward the mirror.
There was no denying it—clothes truly made the man.
The moment he shed the hospital gown and stepped into a suit worth tens of thousands, his entire demeanor transformed. The sharpness in his expression, the confidence in his posture—it all came together seamlessly.
Casey stepped around to face him and reached up to straighten his collar.
As she adjusted it, her hand lingered longer than necessary… then slowly drifted downward, brushing across his chest.
Ethan's gaze dropped to her.
Casey looked up at him with a serious expression. "I'm smoothing out the wrinkles."
"Wrinkles… on the chest?"
"Yes. The fabric here creases easily."
Ethan said nothing.
He simply watched her.
Under his gaze, Casey felt a flicker of guilt—but instead of pulling her hand away, she continued, fingers tracing lightly over his chest.
"Have you touched enough?" Ethan asked flatly.
"Almost," she replied without hesitation.
"How does it feel?"
"It feels really good," Casey said, looking up at him, her eyes bright. "Sir, your skin is amazing. What skincare products do you use?"
"Never used any."
"No way, you're lying." She pouted slightly. "Stop treating me like an outsider and tell me your secret."
Ethan couldn't be bothered to explain. He turned back to the mirror instead.
Casey remained behind him, watching his reflection. After a moment, she spoke again.
"Sir… do you know you look especially handsome in this outfit?"
"Do I need you to tell me?" Ethan adjusted his collar. "The whole world already knows."
"Sir, you're really charming," Casey said softly.
She stepped forward and pressed herself lightly against his back, wrapping her arms around his waist. Resting her chin near his shoulder, she looked at both of them in the mirror.
Ethan felt the softness against his back—and her warm breath brushing faintly against his neck.
"Is this how you treat all your customers?" he asked.
"Of course not." Casey's voice came out slightly muffled as she leaned into him. "You're special."
"Because I hit you?"
A soft laugh escaped her.
"Because when you hit me…" she said quietly, "it felt especially good."
Ethan's lips curved faintly, confirming his earlier suspicion.
He turned around.
Casey didn't let go.
They ended up face-to-face, her arms still wrapped around his waist—closer than before.
Even tighter.
Ethan looked down at her. "Do you even understand what you're doing?"
"I do." Her cheeks were slightly flushed, but her gaze didn't waver.
"And you still act like this?"
"Because I like you," she said, blinking up at him.
Rising onto her toes, she leaned closer and whispered near his ear, "If you find me annoying, you can always complain about me."
Ethan pushed her away.
"Ah—!" Casey stumbled slightly, but instead of reacting with pain, her eyes lit up again.
"That works too," she murmured. "I like that as well."
Ethan exhaled slowly, placing a hand briefly against her forehead.
It was his first time encountering someone like this—someone who seemed to find pleasure in being treated roughly.
Casey tilted her head up. "Sir, can I ask you something?"
"Go on."
"Do you think I'm pretty?"
Ethan looked her over from head to toe.
A fitted suit. A crisp white shirt. Black trousers. Hair neatly styled. Makeup refined. Bright, expressive eyes.
"Not bad."
Casey pouted immediately. "Not bad? Just not bad?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"I want to hear you call me beautiful."
Ethan let out a small laugh and tapped her cheek lightly. "Then keep dreaming about it."
He stepped back, turning once more to the mirror.
The suit fit him perfectly—like it had been tailored specifically for him.
"I'll take this one," he said casually. "And I'll pick a few trousers, some shirts, and a couple of casual outfits."
Casey's eyes lit up again. "Sir, are you serious?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
She shook her head quickly. "No."
"Then what are you waiting for? Go get them."
Ethan stepped out of the fitting room.
Casey followed immediately—this time far more efficient, rushing back and forth gathering items.
"Sir, try this light blue shirt—it pairs perfectly with dark gray trousers."
"Sir, this jacket has an excellent texture. You should feel it."
"Sir, this belt is this year's latest design—it'll suit your figure very well."
Her voice carried excitement with every recommendation.
Ethan tried on several pieces before finally walking up to the cashier, stacking the selected items into a pile.
The cashier stared, stunned. The counter was nearly covered by the sheer volume of clothes.
"Bill," Ethan said simply.
Snapping out of it, the cashier hurriedly picked up the scanner.
"Sir… the suit is 36,800. Two shirts are 25,600. Two trousers are 38,400. The jacket is 38,800. The belt is 16,800…"
Her voice grew quieter with each number.
"…Total comes to ₹180,000," she finished cautiously. "Will you be paying by cash or card?"
Ethan took out his phone. "Scan."
The cashier quickly displayed the QR code.
A moment later—
Payment successful.
Her mouth fell open slightly, forming a silent "O."
He really bought everything.
Moments ago, he had walked in wearing a hospital gown and slippers—looking like someone who couldn't afford a single item.
Now he had spent nearly two lakh without hesitation.
Casey stood beside Ethan, her eyes practically glowing.
One transaction—and her commission alone was substantial.
Ethan slipped his phone back into his pocket, picked up the bags, and glanced at her.
"Sir, let me walk you out," Casey said quickly.
They reached the entrance.
Suddenly, she caught his sleeve.
Ethan turned back.
Casey leaned in slightly, her voice soft. "What you said earlier in the fitting room… does it count?"
Ethan looked at her, expression unreadable.
Her cheeks flushed faintly—but she didn't look away.
After a brief pause, she smiled.
"Then let me ask one more thing," she said. "When will you come again?"
Ethan thought for a moment.
"Depends on my mood."
"And when are you in a good mood?"
He shrugged slightly.
"No idea."