He certainly has the capital for narcissism.
Aldana Candi slowly withdrew her gaze, clutching a blanket while searching for her clothes.
"Philip Shaw, where are my clothes?"
The man glanced at her and smiled, but didn't say much. He got up and fetched her clothes.
It was a white dress of an unknown brand, elegant in design, with fine white fringes embellishing it at knee length.
Aldana hesitated a bit: "Where are my clothes?"
"They've been sent out for cleaning." This time he was quite gentlemanly, refraining from teasing her any further in the room, and advised her to "get dressed and come downstairs for breakfast" before heading out.
Aldana looked down at the exquisitely made dress in her hands.
The intricate and elegant patterns revealed how luxurious this dress truly was.
She had never worn such a dress before.
