My Stepbrother Enzo ( English )

Chapter 4

"What are you going to use that white dress for?" Lyca asked. Eyes wide. That afternoon in Tragora Mall, the lights were too bright. They bounced off polished floors and made everything look fake.

Outside, the sun was harsh. Inside, the air conditioning was cold enough to raise goosebumps. We just stepped out of San Miguel University. My bag still smelled like old paper and chalk dust from class.

Lyca Tallada was the best friend I had. Since elementary school, she sat beside me. Loud. Loyal. The type who’d slap my arm if I was about to make a bad decision. Right now, she was staring at the dress like it personally offended her.

I didn’t answer. My fingers traced the lace on the hanger. Soft. Like tiny webs. It fell just past my knees. Under the store lights, the lace shimmered faintly. Nothing extravagant. Nothing royal. It's just simple. Clean. Honest.

Like the kind of wedding I never planned to have at eighteen.

"This one," I whispered. The word came out hoarse.

I walked to the cashier before doubt could creep in. My sandals clicked against marble. Each step felt too loud.

"Aren’t you going to try it on?" Lyca frowned. Arms crossed.

"No. I know my size." I placed the dress on the counter. The lace pooled like snow.

I didn’t try it on. Old people said it was bad luck to wear your wedding dress before the wedding. Might jinx it. Whatever reason Enzo and I had for getting married, it was happening. I had to hold on to that.

After paying, I suggested coffee. The coffee shop was warm. It smelled like roasted beans and melted sugar. The barista’s machine hissed behind us. We chose a corner table near the window. Sunlight filtered through and made the tabletop glow amber.

"How are you now that you’re alone?" Lyca asked quietly. She stirred her coffee. The spoon clinked against ceramic.

"I’m fine." Lie.

It had been a week since they lowered Dad’s and Aunt Imelda’s caskets into the ground. A week since my house turned into an echo. I went back to school because the silence at home was heavier than grief. At least in class, I could pretend my life hadn’t shattered.

"You can do this, Bella," she said. Her palm squeezed mine. Warm. Grounding.

"Yeah, I’ll manage." I took a sip. The coffee was bitter on my tongue. But I needed bitter. Sweet felt wrong now. Grief didn’t ask if you were ready.

Then, the door opened with a soft chime.

Two men walked in. The air changed. Conversations dipped. Heads turned. The scent of expensive cologne cut through coffee.

I almost choked when I recognized him.

Enzo.

"Hey!" Lyca hissed when I froze, cup halfway to my lips.

"Ah?" I blinked. Lyca followed my gaze.

"Your handsome stepbrother," she breathed. Eyes sparkling. She grabbed my hand under the table, nails digging in. "Your stepbrother is so handsome."

We both stared.

Enzo stood at the counter. Back straight. Shoulders broad under a crisp white long-sleeve polo. Sleeves rolled up once, showing strong forearms. Gray trousers hugged his legs. White leather loafers looked brand new. The light hit his dark hair and made it shine like polished wood.

He looked like a billboard come to life.

I didn’t realize my mouth was open until Lyca elbowed my ribs. I snapped my jaw shut and pretended to study my coffee. I was about to scold her when I noticed half the women in the shop were staring too.

Enzo had that effect. He didn’t even try.

Then he looked up.

His dark eyes locked on mine across the room. For three seconds, the noise faded. My heart hit my ribs. I swallowed, but my throat felt dry. I didn’t know where to look.

"Shit... He’s looking at you," Lyca whispered. Dramatic. Like she was about to faint. Her grip tightened as Enzo started walking toward us. Each step made my pulse jump.

"Bella," he said to my name when he reached our table. Low. Smooth. It's slightly rough like he just woke up. It rolled over my skin and settled in my stomach.

"Ah... Hi," I greeted. Voice thin.

Up close, he was worse. Clean-shaven. Sharp jawline. Eyes so dark I couldn’t read them. He smelled like cedar and something expensive I couldn’t name.

"Aah..." I yelped when Lyca pinched my hand hard under the table.

"Ouch." I glared at her. She glared back and kicked my ankle. Pain shot up my leg.

I glanced at Enzo. He was still watching me. Calm. Unreadable. I straightened my back and forced a neutral face. I knew Lyca was torturing me to make me introduce her. She saw Enzo at the wake and funeral, but they never spoke.

"Are your classes done?" Enzo asked. Formal. Polite. No smile.

I nodded and quickly introduced them. "Enzo, this is Lyca. My friend. Lyca, this is Enzo."

My voice didn’t shake. Much.

"Hi, I’m Lyca," she said, standing up and offering her hand with a flirty smile.

Enzo nodded once and took her hand. His large hand swallowed hers.

"Enzo," he said simply.

My eyes dropped to their joined hands. I don’t know why, but my chest squeezed. A sharp, ugly feeling twisted there.

Jealousy? I shouldn’t feel that. I looked away fast and focused on the brown swirls in my coffee.

"Mr. Enzo, your orders are ready," the barista called.

Enzo’s attention shifted. "See you around," he said to us, glancing at me once before turning away.

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure he saw.

"He’s so handsome up close," Lyca sighed the moment he walked away. She pressed his handshake hand to her cheek. "He smells so good. Clean. Expensive. Like money."

A pang hit my chest. She touched him. I hadn’t.

I subtly watched Enzo as he walked to a table where another man in a suit was waiting. Papers spread between them. Business, probably. When we finished, Lyca ordered another drink. She wasn’t leaving. She wanted to keep watching him.

I wanted to refuse but didn’t. Truth was, I wanted to see him longer, too. Even if it made my skin feel too tight.

"What’s it like having a stepbrother that handsome?" Lyca asked. Restless. She fixed her ponytail for the fourth time and kept glancing over.

"Nothing," I said flatly and drank my coffee.

"Do you like Enzo?" she asked, grinning. "Yes, he’s so handsome. And he smells so good. So clean. Like a model."

Like me, Lyca never had a boyfriend. She was gorgeous too, curvier than me, always in tight dresses. Guys chased her, but she was picky. Same as me.

"What about you? Don’t tell me you don’t like him?"

"Ah?" I looked up, startled, and my eyes crashed into Enzo’s. He was looking right at me again. My face burned. I dropped my gaze to the table.

"Bella, if you like him, go for him," Lyca urged, wagging her eyebrows.

"What?"

"If I lived with him, I would’ve made a move already. It’s worth it if a guy like Enzo took my virginity," she said loudly.

"Lyca!" I hissed, glancing around. People were looking.

"Come on, let’s go." I grabbed my bag and the paper bag with the dress. Before she embarrassed us both.

"Wait, wait," she squealed as I walked fast out of the coffee shop. I didn’t look back at Enzo. I couldn’t. I didn’t understand why my chest felt tight and my palms were sweaty.

"Why are you rushing?" Lyca chased after me, heels clicking.

"I have something to do at home," I lied. I just needed air. Away from him.

"Okay, suit yourself. Go home, I’ll window shop more," she said. "Be careful," I said goodbye. We air-kissed cheeks.

Before leaving the mall, I ducked into a bookstore. The smell of new books calmed me. I bought a random novel, anything to drown my thoughts.

As I walked out into the late afternoon heat, I thought about Enzo. He was still in San Miguel, staying at VincElla Hotel. Last time we talked, he said we’d marry before he left. That was why I bought the dress.

A black sports car purred to a stop in front of me. The engine sounded expensive. Low. Dangerous.

I frowned. The driver’s door opened, and Enzo stepped out. Sunlight hit his white shirt and made him glow.

"Enzo," I said. His name came out surprised.

"Going home?" he asked, walking toward me. His shadow fell over me.

"Ah... Yes."

"Ride with me. I’m going to your place too," he said.

"Ah."

His hand touched my elbow. Heat shot through my skin like electricity. He guided me to the passenger side and opened the door. The leather seat was cool against my legs. I slid in without a word. He closed the door with a soft thud, then walked around the car.

I watched him through the windshield. Everything Lyca said was true. Enzo De Silva was unfair.

Neither of us spoke during the ride. The only sounds were the low hum of the engine and faint music from the speakers. The air conditioning blew cold on my face. I was awkward, chest tight, with him so close in the small space.

I glanced at him. His profile was sharp. Thick brows, long lashes, straight nose, lips slightly parted. His jaw flexed when he focused on the road. He smelled like cedar and cleaned laundry.

I sighed quietly. He could be on a magazine cover. Tall, broad shoulders, and hands steady on the steering wheel. Fair skin. I was grateful he didn’t catch me staring.

A voice in my head whispered: "This man will be your husband soon.

When we reached my house, we got out together. The afternoon sun was softer now, casting long shadows on the driveway.

"Thank you, Enzo," I said quietly.

"Come inside," I invited, voice small.

"Yeah, we need to talk," he answered.

"About what?"

"About our wedding." He walked in. Nanny Lucing greeted us, wiping her hands on her apron. The smell of cooking garlic drifted from the kitchen.

"Sir Enzo, you’re here. Dinner?" she asked.

"Sure, Nanny Lucing I’ll have dinner here," Enzo said and headed to the library. His footsteps were quiet on the wooden floor.

I watched him go.

"Bella," Nanny Lucing called me.

"Ah?" I tore my eyes away.

"What do you want for dinner?"

"Whatever you think is best," I answered and hurried upstairs. I needed a minute alone.

In my room, I placed the paper bag with the white dress on the bed. The lace peeked out. My phone rang. Lyca.

"Bella!" she screamed, making me pull the phone away.

"I saw you and your stepbrother," she yelled. "I saw you get into his sports car. What did it feel like? What did it feel like sitting next to him? Did he talk?"

I rolled my eyes and sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped under me.

"Too bad I stayed behind. I would’ve ridden in his car too," she whined.

"Lyca, let’s talk tomorrow. I have things to do," I said and hung up.

I pulled out the white dress. The lace was soft between my fingers. I smiled awkwardly. Dad and Aunt Imelda just died. But here I was, holding a wedding dress. I didn’t know if I should cry or smile.

A knock sounded on the door.

"Come in, Nanny. Lucing," I said, still holding the dress.

A throat cleared. I looked up.

Enzo stood in the doorway. His eyes dropped to the dress in my hands. Heat rushed to my face. I shoved the dress back in the paper bag and stood, hiding it in the cabinet. Embarrassing. He might think I was excited about the wedding.

I took a deep breath and faced him.

"Do you need something, Enzo?" I asked, formal.

"We need to talk about our wedding," he said.

"Do you want to discuss it here in your room?" he asked, eyes scanning my space.

I shook my head fast. "Let’s talk in the library," I answered.