My uncle-in-law? Who did I marry—wait, I have a fake relationship with Grayson, so either Gloria’s brother or Grayson’s father’s brother?

Either way, that means that this...entire place was essentially owned by the family.

This massive structure that housed hundreds of boutiques, restaurants, and entertainment venues—was all owned by one family?

Neville knew from the system profile of Grayson that the Maxwells were wealthy.

The Maxwell Corporation alone was the number one chain of starships and hovercars, known for its dedication to the country and quality. They operated across the Imperial Galaxy, for heaven’s sake.

But somehow, knowing they also owned retail on this scale, albeit on the extended family, made their fortune snap Neville’s small imagination. It was an unavoidable force of nature that made him feel poor at every second.

"I see," Neville managed, his voice remarkably steady despite the fact that his worldview was currently doing somersaults. "That’s... convenient."

Gloria laughed again.

"It is, isn’t it?" She linked her arm through Neville’s, a gesture so casual and affectionate that it caught him off guard. "Now, let’s find you something nice."

"I—I’m good," Neville protested weakly. His words fell on deaf ears as Gloria was already leading him out of the store.

"Stop worrying about these little things," Gloria said, waving her free hand dismissively. "Start helping me pick the next store. I have terrible taste when it comes to men’s items."

Neville nearly tripped over his own feet. "Your son would disagree," he commented, barely getting his wits back.

It’s true.

Grayson was always dressed impeccably, and it was thanks to Gloria’s meticulous shopping. Every cufflink, every tie clip, every single button on his shirts seemed to be selected carefully. The man could attend a board meeting in the morning and a state dinner in the evening without changing clothes, and somehow look appropriate for both.

"Oh? And what exactly has my son told you about my taste?" Gloria said with eyes sparkling as she narrowed her eyes in a teasing manner that made Neville immediately regret opening his mouth.

"Uh... nothing?" Neville adjusted his glasses nervously as he answered.

"Mm-hmm." Gloria’s smile didn’t back down, "We’ll discuss that later."

Neville knew that there was no escape from ’later’ with this woman. Neville was beginning to understand where Grayson got his relentless persistence from.

Gloria turned back to the shops with renewed enthusiasm, her silver earrings catching the bioluminescent light. "Shall we start in the one upstairs or the one below that?"

Before Neville could answer, not that his opinion seemed to matter, Gloria already had her eyes on a particular store. She guided him toward their floating platform, which carried them there.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Three hours in, Neville had learned several important lessons about shopping with a person who lived their whole life basking in wealth like Gloria Maxwell.

Lesson One: There is no such thing as a budget.

"This would look wonderful on you," Gloria said, holding up a charcoal gray coat with subtle silver threading along the lapels.

The fabric shimmered under the store’s ambient lighting. Neville could already tell just by looking at it that the material was something ridiculously expensive.

"I—"

"We’ll take it," Gloria said to the AI assistant hovering nearby, completely ignoring his opinion.

Neville blinked, realizing that the AI assistant only had his biometrics and not Grayson.

He hurriedly looked at Gloria in panic. "Wait, I thought that was for Grayson."

"Why would I buy clothes for Grayson? I’m already done picking his clothes. Now that he has a wife, either you pick it or his own wardrobe manager will. Up to you. But this?" Gloria was already moving toward a display of dress shirts. "This is for you."

Wife? What wife? We’re all just fakes here.

"For me?" Neville’s voice cracked slightly. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Auntie, I really can’t—how much is this?"

Gloria glanced at him over her shoulder with a confused expression. "I’ll pay for it."

"No, I mean—" Neville fumbled for words. "How much does it cost?"

Beside them, the chibi AI robot dragon floated at shoulder height, raised an animated eyebrow at Neville. The gesture was so judgmental, so condescending, that Neville felt his face heat up.

He couldn’t afford it, and the robot knew it.

Gloria probably also knew about it.

The only person who had been operating under any illusion that he could afford it was Neville himself.

"The price isn’t important," Gloria said dismissively and moved on to the next pedestal.

Neville stood there for a moment, then he hurried to catch up. He really felt uncomfortable about this, but it was inevitable.

Lesson Two: If you like it, buy it.

They had moved to a different store. This one specializes in accessories that range from practical to absurdly decorative.

Neville found himself drawn to a display of wristbands designed to sync with light brains like smart watches back on earth that he never got to have.

One in particular caught his eye: a sleek black band with subtle blue circuitry visible beneath its surface. It was elegant without being flashy, functional without being boring.

He didn’t mean to stare for too long; he made sure to check it out while Gloria busily examined a collection of brooches nearby.

"That one," Gloria’s voice came from right beside him.

Neville jumped at the sound. When did she get here? "What? No, I was just—" 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

"We’ll take the black one with the blue circuitry," Gloria told the staff robot.

"Auntie, please, you don’t have to—it’s unnecessary, I already have a—"

"It caught your eye." Gloria turned to face him.

"If something catches your eye, it should be bought. Besides," she added, her gaze sweeping over him appraisingly, "it suits you."

The staff robot had already processed the purchase and was packaging the wristband before Neville could say another protest.

He was beginning to realize that protesting was futile.

Lesson Three: The floating platforms were only for people. All the items were already transported to their hover car or directly to the address that Gloria designated.

After the fifth store—or was it the sixth?—Neville instinctively reached for the shopping bags that should have been accumulating around them.

His hands grasped empty air.

He stopped mid-motion, his arm hovering awkwardly in space.

Gloria noticed, but she didn’t say anything. She simply continued walking toward the next storefront as if she hadn’t seen Neville’s reflexively showing his poor background.

Back on Earth, shopping meant carrying bags. It meant sore shoulders, cramped fingers, and constantly moving the weight from one hand to another.

It meant being aware of every purchase you made because the physical weight of it was straining your arms, and the evidence of your spending on your bank account was firmly marked with endless red, negative numbers.

Here, the purchases simply... vanished. Whisked away by efficient automated systems to be delivered wherever Gloria designated it to.

There was no physical reminder of the money being spent, no constant negative notification because he wasn’t the one losing money here, and no accumulating weight to signal that perhaps, maybe, they should stop.

"Isn’t this too much?" Neville finally asked as they emerged from yet another boutique.

He had no idea what they had just purchased in that one. Shoes, maybe? Or was it scarves?

Gloria paused, turning to face him with genuine curiosity. "Too much for what?"

The question threw him off balance.

Too much for someone like him? Too much for a fake boyfriend? Too much for an orphan who was just beginning to feel the fruits of his labor?

"I—" he wanted to say something, but Gloria was already patting him gently on the back.

"You’ll get used to it," she said warmly.

And suddenly the question felt silly.

What was ’too much’ to someone like Gloria, who was raised with wealth?

She wasn’t showing off. She wasn’t trying to make him feel small.

She was simply... shopping.

The way she always shopped. The way everyone in her social circle shopped.

He was the odd one here, not her.

Lesson Four: Jewelry was not optional.

The jewelry store they entered next made the previous boutiques look like discount outlets. Everything here gleamed under carefully lit lighting, each piece displayed in its own transparent case like a museum artifact.

Neville had expected Gloria to be casual about this, too—like grabbing pieces at random (?), buying whatever caught her fancy.

But he was wrong.

Gloria moved through the store like she was surveying a battlefield.

Each piece she examined was subjected to intense scrutiny: the cut, the setting, the way the light played across the surface. She picked up items only to set them down again, shaking her head imperceptibly.

When she finally selected something, a simple silver chain with a small pendant shaped like a water droplet, Neville understood why.

It wasn’t just expensive.

It was perfect.

The chain was exactly the right weight and length. The pendant caught the light at precisely the right angle. It was the kind of piece that would complement any outfit without overwhelming it.

Gloria wasn’t just buying things.

She was curating.