Chapter 538: The Know-It-All King?
Before Selina could say a word, Riley cut in with a smile. "Madam, we’re here today to accompany you. How could I possibly leave you alone?"
Then she glanced at Selina, her tone carrying a hidden barb. "Selina, if you’re too impatient to keep an elder company, why don’t you go browse on your own? I’ll take care of the madam."
The words were sharp, and everyone present could hear exactly what Riley was implying.
Selina only chuckled lightly, not even sparing Riley a glance. She turned warmly to the old lady. "Grandma, I noticed there’s a men’s section over there. I’ll go pick out a couple of things for Logan."
The old lady smiled kindly. "Yes, yes, that’s just right. Go buy Logan some clothes. Go on."
But Riley, feigning casualness, interjected, "Buying clothes for Logan? Selina, you do know he only wears custom-tailored pieces. These mass-produced things in the mall aren’t really his style. You don’t need to waste your time."
In an instant, all eyes shifted to Riley.
Selina arched a brow, her smile deepening.
Riley suddenly looked as if she realized what she’d said. "Oh—sorry, did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean—"
"Miss Nelson, you’re overthinking it. Logan isn’t that picky," Selina replied coolly, then inclined her head toward Grandma Perry. "Grandma, I’ll head over there now."
The old lady’s expression softened with satisfaction.
Selina brushed past Riley without so much as a glance, treating her as if she were invisible.
Everyone present was sharp enough to catch the nuances. One young heiress whispered to her friend, "Neither Grandma Perry nor Mrs. Reid seems to think Mr. Reid has a problem wearing ready-to-wear clothes. Why does Miss Nelson act like she knows him so well?"
"And when Mrs. Reid said she was going to buy him clothes, Grandma Perry looked so pleased. Clearly, he isn’t that picky. It actually seems like Miss Nelson doesn’t know him at all."
"Uh, am I the only one who found it weird? Miss Nelson linked arms with Grandma Perry the moment she got out of the car, like they were family. But the difference is clear—one calls her ’Madam,’ the other calls her ’Grandma.’ The closeness speaks for itself. Why does Miss Nelson insist on forcing her way in?"
Riley’s face darkened, her brow twitching as her expression shifted again and again. Finally, she smothered her anger and stepped up to Grandma Perry. "Let me walk with you, Madam."
Grandma Perry shot Riley a discreet glance, then said evenly, "No need. I didn’t even ask Selina to accompany me, so you don’t need to either. You’re young—you should look around for things you like. As for me, I just want to wander on my own."
With that, she headed straight toward the middle-aged women’s section.
Just moments ago, Riley had insinuated that Selina lacked filial piety, unwilling to spend time with the old lady.
Now the old lady herself had said—twice—that she didn’t need anyone tagging along.
And Selina hadn’t tried to put on a show or score points. She simply respected Grandma Perry’s wishes, giving her space.
Meanwhile, Riley clung on stubbornly in an attempt to flaunt her "filial devotion," disregarding whether or not the old lady was actually comfortable, all to make herself look like the perfect junior.
The crowd picked up on the irony, and their gazes toward Riley shifted.
Riley stood frozen for a moment, her eyes dark. Then, after a minute, she smoothed her expression, as if nothing had happened, and naturally followed Selina into the men’s section.
...
Selina’s phone buzzed twice. She arched a brow and picked up.
A smooth, clear voice came from the other end. "Mrs. Reid, where are you?"
Selina answered lazily, "Buying you some clothes."
Logan paused for a beat, then let out a low, ambiguous laugh. "And what’s gotten Mrs. Reid in such a thoughtful mood today?"
Selina’s hand stilled mid-selection. Her tone carried an edge of irony. "Oh, your childhood sweetheart said I don’t care enough about you or Grandma. Naturally, I have to show a little concern for you—just so she can see it."
Logan chuckled quietly. "Mm. Then show me what Mrs. Reid has picked out."
Selina’s eyes flicked around. She remembered how Logan’s closet was filled with nothing but black and white shirts and suits. Setting down the dress shirt in her hand, she drifted toward the trench coat section.
"How about a beige trench coat for you?"
As she pictured him wearing it, she murmured softly to herself, "Beige is so warm. And this cut—it really highlights your frame. You’ve never worn anything like this before, but... it seems perfect for you..."
Something inside Logan softened.
No one had ever picked out clothes for him before. His entire wardrobe had always been handled by designers who delivered new collections every season. He’d chosen one style years ago, and since then, every year, they just repeated that same style. None of them dared alter it. To outsiders, Logan’s wardrobe was famously simple, muted, restrained.
He hadn’t even seen the piece Selina was holding, but hearing her quiet musings, Logan thought—
If Selina likes it, he’ll like it too.
Selina nodded in satisfaction. "All right, I’ll go pay for it."
Her little singsong note at the end made Logan laugh. "Good. Show me tonight—I’ll be looking forward to it."
After hanging up, Selina picked out a matching knit sweater.
At the register, the cashier greeted her warmly. "Miss, you have such a good eye. This is a new CL piece—very popular right now."
Selina gave a pleased nod. "Mm, wrap it up for me—"
Before she could finish, a figure slid in front. Riley reached out quicker than the cashier, pinching the trench coat’s sleeve between her fingers, examining it up and down before turning to Selina with wide, feigned surprise.
"Selina, are you buying this for Brother Logan?"
Selina’s eyes narrowed slightly. Normally, Riley avoided that kind of address. Unlike Bella and the others, she never called him Brother Logan—always "Logan," emphasizing her role as his childhood friend, his equal.
But now, in front of a crowd, she suddenly said it—Brother Logan.
Closer than his name, but not as blatant as a lover’s term. Still...
With Mrs. Reid right there, Riley deliberately softened her tone into something intimate, calling him "Brother Logan" in front of everyone. It was irritating, no matter how you looked at it.
Selina lifted her chin, saying nothing.
Riley’s gaze flicked between the trench coat and the beige knit, her brows knitting tighter. A faint disapproval crept onto her face—as if she were the one who truly cared about Logan.
"Selina, you’ve been married to Brother Logan for a year now, and yet you don’t seem to care about him at all... Don’t you know he never wears warm colors? He doesn’t like trench coats, and he especially doesn’t like loose knit sweaters like this. You—"