CHAPTER 15
1332 Words
MABEL’S POV
Victor cleared his throat, drawing both Zach’s and my attention. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need your help,” he said, looking at Zach.
“Stay here. And don’t touch anything.”
Without waiting for a reply, Zach walked over to the motorcycle Victor was working on. The two of them quickly became absorbed in whatever mechanical problem they were trying to fix.
Left alone, I glanced around the garage.
Luxury sports cars lined one side while rows of sleek motorcycles filled the other. Different brands and models. Zach had to be a serious bike enthusiast.
I wandered between them, careful not to get too close this time. My eyes landed on a dusty brown cardboard box tucked away in the corner. It looked abandoned, almost forgotten.
Resting on top of it was a framed photograph.
Curiosity got the better of me and I picked it up.
It was a family portrait. Immediately I recognized the tall man standing proudly beside his wife as Zach’s father. He had the same sharp jawline and deep grey eyes as Zach’s.
Beside them stood a little girl and two boys.
One of them looked almost identical to Zach and the other boy clearly took after their mother.
They looked… happy.
“What did I tell you about touching my stuff?” Zach’s voice thundered behind me.
I jumped, and the picture frame slipped from my hands. The glass shattered across the floor.
“I’m so sorry!” I said quickly, bending down to pick it up. A piece of glass cut my hand and I hissed in pain as blood welled up.
“Show me,” Zach said, squatting beside me and holding out his hand.
“It’s just a little cut.”
I tried to pull my hand away, but one look from him and I reluctantly placed my hand in his.
Victor silently returned with a first aid kit before walking away again, giving us some privacy.
I watched in silence as Zach carefully cleaned the cut.
His touch was surprisingly gentle.
It felt… strange.
I was always the one patching people up, not the one being taken care of.
What confused me even more was that he hadn’t yelled at me.
I’d just broken what looked like one of the few family photos he had.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered again.
He didn’t answer.
He simply wrapped a bandage around my finger before letting go.
Without even looking at the broken frame, he picked it up and placed it back on top of the dusty box.
Then he sighed.
“Let’s get you out of here before you destroy any more of my property.”
I blinked.
The confusion must have shown on my face because the corner of his mouth twitched.
“We’re going shopping.”
“What?”
“We need to get you ready for a party.”
“A party?” I stared at him. “How did we go from me breaking your family picture to getting invited to a party?”
“You said you wanted in on my life.” He shrugged. “I’m inviting you.”
I frowned. “Aren’t you upset about the picture?”
His jaw tensed for a second before he started heading toward the exits . “Victor and Emma will take you shopping.”
************
Forty minutes later, we were walking through one of the most expensive boutiques I’d ever stepped foot in.
“I swear, shopping is therapy,” Emma declared as she ran her fingers through a rack of dresses. “Whoever said money can’t buy happiness clearly never bought a good outfit.”
Victor, who was carrying three shopping bags already, let out an exaggerated sigh.
“You’re saying that because you’re not the one carrying everything.”
Emma looked over her shoulder and grinned.
“You’re strong. Consider it today’s workout.”
He muttered something under his breath that I couldn’t make out, making Emma laugh.
I couldn’t help noticing the way Victor’s eyes drifted toward her every now and then whenever she wasn’t looking. There was always a small smile tugging at his lips before he quickly looked away, replacing it with his usual bored expression.
For someone who complained every five minutes, he didn’t seem to mind following her around.
Emma shoved another dress into my arms. “Try this one.”
“I’ve already tried six.”
“And none of them screamed ‘drop dead gorgeous.’ Go.”
I sighed dramatically before disappearing into the fitting room.
A few minutes later, I stepped out wearing a fitted emerald-green dress that hugged my waist before flowing softly to my knees. I studied myself in the mirror before shaking my head.
"It won't do."
Emma stared at me in disbelief. "Are we looking at the same person?"
| laughed awkwardly. "It's too... much."
"No." She walked over and rested her hands on my shoulders. "You've been hiding behind oversized clothes for too long. You have an incredibly sexy figure, Mabel. Own it."
Heat rushed to my cheeks.
"Emma..."
"Victor," she called. "Back me up."
Victor glanced up from his phone, looked me over once, then nodded.
"She's right."
My blush deepened.
Shopping with my stepmother and stepsister had always been exhausting.
Every dress I liked was either too tight, too flashy, or made me look desperate for attention.
Eventually, oversized sweaters and loose jeans became safest options but now I was doing this for me.
“Okay, I will take it,”
Emma clapped her hands . “Excellent,”
By the time we finished, Victor was carrying so many bags that I almost felt guilty. We made our way to the cashier.
I reached into my handbag for my card and was about to hand it over to the cashier when Emma gently stopped me
She pulled out a sleek black card. “Zach said everything goes on this.”
I stared at her. “What?”
She handed the card to the cashier as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
“He’s paying.”
My eyes widened. Why would he do that? He acted like he couldn’t stand me half the time. Yet here he was, paying for all this.
I’d never needed a man to pay for my things. I’d always had enough allowance, and I was used to covering for my ex, Nike, because he’d subtly remind me how much less he had. This felt… off.
Once the payment went through and we stepped away from the counter, I leaned closer to Emma and whispered, “Can I ask you something?”
She smiled. “Of course.”
“I… don’t understand Zach.”
She glanced at me curiously.
“What do you mean?”
“One moment he’s so cold that I think he hates me.” I looked down at the shopping bags in my hands. “Then the next, he’s patching up my finger, buying me clothes…” I sighed. “I don’t know what to make of him.”
Emma chuckled softly.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
“What?”
She looped her arm through mine.
“Rule number one. Never spend your time trying to decode a man.”
I blinked. “…That’s your advice?”
“It’s excellent advice.”
She nodded confidently.
“If a man wants to play hot and cold, let him.”
I frowned.
“I don’t get it.”
Emma laughed. “I mean you stay unbothered. Live your life. Smile. Have fun. Don’t chase him. Don’t overthink him.”
She leaned closer and whispered dramatically,
“Nothing drives a man crazier than a woman who isn’t obsessing over him.”
She gave me a playful wink.
“Trust me. He’ll end up on his knees.”
I stared at her for a moment before laughing.
“I don’t know if that’s actually good advice.”
“It absolutely is.”
- Writer
