Lucas had handled the purchase of Merlin’s clothes and shoes, but he had never chosen the style or brand. Season after season, he simply followed Merlin’s rigid standards, purchasing identical replacements. Merlin had always been cold and uninteresting, his fashion sense frozen in time—black shirts forever paired with black suits. His wardrobe stretched like a funeral procession: endless rows of black suits, black shirts, black leather shoes, and black socks, all bearing the same brand labels and cuts.

Merlin’s clothing ritual resembled a machine replacing worn parts with identical components, ensuring his appearance never wavered by a thread.

Right now, the clothes Merlin had hurled across the floor, bed, and chairs formed a sea of sameness—black suits and black shirts, all bearing familiar labels.

Lucas couldn’t fathom why Merlin kept trying on outfits when they were indistinguishable from one another.

But that wasn’t the real puzzle. The mystery lay in why Merlin suddenly despised his beloved style and brand and then blamed Lucas for incompetence.

Lucas’s mind raced. Had Merlin’s aesthetic compass suddenly spun in a new direction?

“Mr. Blakely, are you considering a change in style or brand?” Lucas ventured, his voice carefully measured.

Merlin’s troubled expression deepened as he fixed Lucas with a cold stare. “What sort of clothes do you think would flatter me?”

Lucas opened his mouth, searching for words, when Merlin added with calculated casualness, “What kind of outfit would make me more appealing to women?”

Lucas’s mouth fell open as understanding crashed over him like a wave. Merlin feared Hailee might find him lacking.

A laugh bubbled up in Lucas’s chest, but he swallowed it whole, knowing that even a chuckle now could earn him his boss’s wrath. After a strategic pause, Lucas deployed his smoothest flattery. “Mr. Blakely, if I might speak plainly, your looks and build already surpass most men. You could wear a potato sack and still turn heads.”

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Merlin’s eyes narrowed with uncertainty. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely!” Lucas nodded with theatrical conviction. “Have you forgotten how women used to flock to you, drawn like moths to a flame? Especially Vivien—she practically worshipped at your feet!”

Yet, doubt still clouded Merlin’s features. “Then why does Hailee look at me as if I’m invisible?”

Lucas chose his words carefully, like a chess player selecting his next move. “Ms. Loftus was still under Boris’s shadow before. Now that his influence has lifted, she’ll recognize your worth soon enough.”

This answer struck gold with Merlin. The man who had been cold and stern moments before now had a smile tugging at his lips.

“Ahem!” Merlin cleared his throat softly and then pointed toward the door. “Wait outside. I will get changed.”

“Of course.” Lucas exhaled with relief and quickly left the room. He positioned himself by the door, counting heartbeats.

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