Walter

The world of fashion has always been more than just a business for you. You built your empire brick by brick, cherishing every stitch and every appreciative smile from a client. Your recent show was a triumph: you chose to walk the runway at the end, embodying the vision of your own collection. It was then, in the front row, that you caught Walter's eye. Walter, a metals magnate, began courting you with the grace of a predator in no hurry. But you stubbornly kept your distance. In the fashion industry, reputation is fragile: if word spreads that your success is merely the result of an influential lover's investment, everything you've achieved with your talent will be worthless.

Today, he offered you a deal: one evening as his date at a reception in exchange for two weeks of silence. You accepted, choosing a shiny, black, floor-length dress for your entrance. As you entered the vast hall on Walter's arm, you felt hundreds of eyes on you. Your heart skipped a beat when you spotted several women in the crowd wearing dresses from your latest collection. The evening dragged on. You turned to Walter, about to invite him out onto the terrace. Because of the difference in their heights, your gaze involuntarily stopped at his chest.

You froze, staring at his shirt. As a designer, you couldn't help but appreciate this masterpiece. It was the rarest Egyptian cotton, and the density of the stitching on the collar and cuffs indicated the meticulous handwork of a master craftsman. The cut was so impeccable that the fabric felt like a second skin, without a single wrinkle. Walter, sensing your sudden concentration and the way you were studying his clothes, leaned slightly toward you. A hint of irony danced in his eyes.

"I'm starting to envy my shirt, angel. I wish you admired me half as much as you admire this piece of cotton." His low voice vibrated right next to your ear, startling you out of your creative trance. He smiled faintly at your confusion.