CHAPTER 207: CHAPTER 206: SERIOUSLY, UNIVERSE?

Rex looked at himself in the mirror—and like everyone else in the room, he was stunned into silence, joining the chorus of already stunned people.

For a long moment, he didn’t speak. He didn’t move. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he was breathing. He just stared.

"Is that... me?" he whispered, taking a step closer to the reflection.

The impossibly handsome man in the mirror blinked back at him. Rex narrowed his eyes, leaned forward, and pinched his own cheek.

"Ow. Yep. That’s real."

Rex had always been otherworldly handsome—girls turned to stare, people tripped over nothing, and even his ID photo looked editorial-ready. But now? Now even he couldn’t recognize the man in the mirror. That guy was stupidly handsome. Ridiculously elegant. Devastatingly cool.

And that suit... wow.

Dark charcoal, with the faintest whisper of midnight blue woven into the threads, visible only when the light kissed it just right. It gave a strange, regal depth to the color, a richness that practically oozed money and taste. A deep crimson silk pocket square peeked from his breast pocket, adding a splash of bold color like a final brushstroke on a masterpiece. The double-breasted jacket wrapped him like armor—classy, confident, and commanding. The slim-fit cut emphasized his tall, lean physique without trying too hard. Every line, every angle, every crease seemed sculpted by a designer god.

His hair had been styled into casual perfection. Not a single strand out of place, but not stiff either. Tousled, but intentional. Like he’d just rolled out of bed straight into a Vogue cover shoot.

He looked... dangerous. Refined. Unreachable. The kind of man you’d either fall for instantly or avoid completely out of self-preservation.

So, suits really are man’s best friend.

Behind him, the entire room of stylists, makeup artists, and fashion experts who were still staring like they’d just summoned a deity.

"So... good job?" he said weakly.

No response.

So, he turned to Seraphina.

She had been mid-step, phone in hand, lips parted as if about to speak. But now? Now she seems to be struck by the freeze spell and was staring at him dumbfounded. Eyes wide. Expression blank. She looked like she’d just seen a god descend from Mount Olympus.

Seeing her dumbfounded look, he smirked smugly and felt a bone deep satisfaction, but still asked, "how is it?"

Seeing his expression, she snapped out of it and huffed, "It’s okay.she said with a fake yawn, crossing her arms. "Just so-so."

Rex let out a slow, exaggerated "Ohhhhhh?" stretching the sound like he was auditioning for a drama serial. "Just so-so, huh? You sure about that? Should I do a little spin? Give you the full 360 experience?"

"Don’t flatter yourself," she said, though her ears were suspiciously red. "The suit’s doing all the work."

"Well, I’m the one wearing it, so technically—"

"Enough!" she snapped, tossing him a sleek watch. "You’re late, Mr. Flirt. Go. Shoo. Out. And don’t forget—you still haven’t paid for anything yet. Make sure you stop by the boutique again."

Rex caught the watch, slid it on with a flair, and gave her a two-fingered salute. "Roger that, General."

"Out!" she barked, pushing him toward the door.

With a final smirk, he turned and exited with the kind of calm, powerful grace that made the stylists sigh as he walked past. The door closed behind him with a soft click.

Seraphina stood still for a moment. Then exhaled hard, and placed a hand over her fast-beating heart. She was really afraid that if she spent even a minute longer, she might... she might....

"Control... control, Seraphina," she muttered, slapping both cheeks with her palms. "This is not a drama. You don’t have time for nonsense like love."

Still gotta prove myself... take my fate into my own hands." Her voice softened as she thought about her family back home—the mocking eyes, the pressure, the weight of a legacy she had chosen to fight for. She had dreams of carving her own path, proving to the world and to herself that she was more than a pretty face or a puppet of her lineage.

But... he really was handsome. Rich and polite, too. And that was a problem.

The kind of handsome that made heads turn and hearts skip. The kind of wealth that didn’t need to be flaunted but still showed in every small detail. The kind of politeness that didn’t feel rehearsed, but real—gentle and sincere.

Seraphina sighed. "Seriously, universe? Did you have to throw him

in my path right now?"

Her heart was still racing. It wasn’t fair. Rex wasn’t just a walking ad for perfection—he had the personality to match.

She’d met more heirs, CEOs, trust fund prodigies, and startup whiz kids than she could count—ranging from oil princes to literal European royalty, from old money heirs to the new-gen tech founders.

And they all had the same polished exterior. The same trained smiles and mannered politeness. But behind those grins was always a faint whiff of superiority. A touch of condescension. Like they were being polite not because they respected you—but because it was what they were taught to do.

But Rex was different.

it wasn’t just because of his outrageous looks (those twisted melons couldn’t even dream of comparing). It was his personality that drew her in more.

Despite being rich—super rich, judging by that car—he didn’t have the usual haughtiness or arrogance she saw in others from that world. He treated her politely. He treated the assistants and even the bodyguards the same way. No air of superiority, just that easy, warm vibe of a boy next door.

And he wasn’t just rich. He wasn’t just good-looking. He wasn’t even just kind. He was normal.

Not the fake, calculated version of normal most rich people pretended to be. But genuinely down-to-earth. He joked. He laughed. He treated everyone the same. No hierarchy. No hidden agendas. Just a guy who liked to tease.

And mind you, this isn’t something that can be faked. Those other rich heirs, no matter how much they tried, always carried that "I’m better than you peasants" vibe. Even if they didn’t mean it intentionally, their upbringing shaped them that way. They didn’t even know what normal interactions looked like.

Like, when ordinary kids were playing with toy models of sports cars, rich kids had already driven the real thing—and tossed it aside like yesterday’s toy. They had no clue about the struggles of common people. To them, poverty was just a romantic aesthetic from plays and movies.

They lived and operated on a completely different spectrum.

Sure, they knew how to be polite and respectful when dealing with someone "worthy." But when it came to everyday staff—bodyguards, waiters, clerks—even though their words sounded polite, it was just routine. Their focus wasn’t really on them. Deep down, they still held a kind of disdain for the poor that they couldn’t even recognize themselves. It was ingrained in their bones, passed down like an unwanted inheritance.

But Rex... he was different.

She looked at the door he’d just exited through, then down at her phone, and then back at the door again.

"Don’t fall for him, Seraphina," she whispered. "You’re too smart for that."

(End of Chapter)