"Hello, beautiful. What a blessing to walk in and see you shining behind this counter."
Alex pressed his palms together like a saint worshipping her existence while sauntering toward the counter.
Lily's cheeks lit up pink.
She had barely flipped the shop sign and already someone was dropping honeyed words on her.
She hadn't asked for it, hadn't even combed her hair properly, and here was this man throwing compliments like coins in a fountain.
"W-what can I help you with, sir?"
Her voice cracked, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. The guy looked rich, annoyingly rich, the kind of customer who could toss a gold coin just for fun.
If she played her cards right, maybe she could squeeze a few crowns toward her husband's medicine.
Alex reached out his hand, smile dripping with charm. This new Alex might have been a horny disaster in the brain, but on the outside his body was model material.
Lily hesitated, then placed her hand in his. Warm, strong, annoyingly perfect.
'Damn, he's handsome…'
Her pulse skipped, but she smacked herself mentally.
'N-not as handsome as Marcus though. No, absolutely not. My husband is the peak. Totally, completely the peak.'
She swallowed, forcing her eyes away from his broad chest.
'Shit, why am I even comparing them. Pull it together, Lily.
"A-are you… looking for something in particular, sir?"
Her voice trembled as his fingers squeezed her hand. Tight. Loose. Tight again. Like he was testing her pulse, or worse, teasing her nerves on purpose.
Lily swallowed hard, her throat suddenly desert-dry. She had no idea what game he was playing.
Meanwhile Alex was biting his lip, barely holding back a laugh.
'Holy shit, what a feast she is. The gods didn't just transmigrate me here, they threw me into the buffet table.'
She was built like every lonely man's prayer request: short, stacked, apron fighting for its life against those breasts that refused to stay tucked in, blouse or no blouse.
A round face with lips like ripe fruit begging to be sucked, wide earnest eyes that screamed purity.
And all of it wrapped in that domestic housewife package that practically whispered please corrupt me.
"Before we talk business, gorgeous, give me a little twirl."
"W-what?"
She barely had time to blink before Alex spun her lightly by the wrist. Her skirt swished, her body turned, and suddenly her back was facing him.
He froze. His grin widened.
"God… DAMN."
That long brown skirt wasn't hiding anything. Those hips were wide enough to park carriages on, and the way it clung to her thighs was pure sin. She wasn't just a homely wife—she was a homily weapon.
Alex whistled low.
"Lady, you're walking around with two fat dump trucks and pretending it's groceries."
Alex let her wrist go slow, his eyes locked onto the wobble of her hips like a predator sighting prey.
"Sweet lord, you've got better stock than half the shops on this street."
Lily squeaked, trying to tug her skirt back down even though it wasn't even high.
"S-sir… p-please, that's very inappropriate—"
"Inappropriate? Lady, I'm a customer. It's called inspection."
Before she could argue, his hand brushed along her waist, "testing the quality." A squeeze, firm and deliberate.
She gasped. "Th-that's not—"
"And durability," he added, giving her hip a playful smack, the sound thwapping through the empty store. "Yep, holds up."
Lily's face went bright red. "Y-you can't just—!"
"Oh, I can. Look at this apron—barely holding its ground. Your chest is about to file for emancipation."
He looked straight at her plush mounts.
"Tell me, do you sell melons here too, or are those strictly for… home use?"
"S-sir!!"
Her cry cut through the air like a startled bell. Only then did Alex finally ease up, stepping back with that cocky grin still plastered across his face.
Lily clutched her chest, her heart thundering as if she'd just sprinted three laps.
It wasn't the compliments that shook her—plenty of men had said pretty things in passing. It was the audacity.
The shameless, confident way he looked at her, like she was already his to taste. He hadn't even introduced himself before laying it on thick, and that was simply too much for poor Lily's homely heart.
How could someone be this blunt, this forward, this unashamed?
"I-if you're here to buy something, then please do so," she stammered, gesturing vaguely to the shelves, "I… I have other customers to tend to."
There were, of course, no other customers. The store was emptier than a beggar's coin pouch.
Alex chuckled, clearly enjoying the little lie she was telling herself. He drummed his fingers on the counter and leaned forward, his grin tilting into something more wicked.
"Alright, enough play. I'll come straight to the point."
Her pulse hammered harder when his face drew closer. She almost leaned back, expecting another indecent comment—but instead he spoke casually.
"My name is Alexander Shepherd, and I'm here to collect the rent."
"A-ah!"
The gasp tore from Lily's throat. Her mind raced. He wasn't a customer after all—he was the landlord's son. Her knees went weak, heat flooding her cheeks as shame and shock tangled in her chest.
"I—I didn't know," she stuttered, bowing her head so quickly her braid almost slapped her shoulder. "Forgive me."
She had never seen him in person before, only heard whispers about the landlord's golden boy.
Even after living here for more than a year, this man had never stepped into their store to buy so much as a carrot.
But now, staring up at him, she had no doubt. Tall, broad, tanned skin that looked kissed by the sun, and those golden-blonde locks that made him look less like an alchemist and more like some sinful hero out of a bard's tale.
Lily's throat tightened. She fumbled with her apron strings, eyes darting away as her fingers knotted the fabric.
"W-we are… uhh… my husband has been sick for over a week now, sir… all the money went into his medicine and and… we are in a very tight spot."
Alex tilted his head, smirking like a cat who had just cornered a mouse.
"Ohhh, you poor thing. So…" His voice dropped lower, dripping like honey. "Do you have the rent, or not?"
The bluntness of it struck her like a slap. Her lips parted in disbelief. Did this man have no heart at all?
"L-like I said," she stammered, clinging to the counter like it might shield her, "we weren't able to open the shop for a whole week… today's the first day… if you give us some time—a week at most—I can repay you. I swear."
Alex tapped his chin thoughtfully, then let out a soft, mocking laugh.
"Oh, that's not good. Not good at all. My father's been waiting on that payment. I wonder…"
His eyes raked her from head to toe, slow and heavy.
"…what he'll decide to do. Evict you and your sick husband onto the streets?"
He leaned closer, close enough for her to feel his breath tickle her ear.
"Or maybe…" his lips curled, wicked and playful, "…maybe I collect something other than coin today."