The Problem with Enzo

Chapter2: Under the Curios Heat

▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• In the Waiting Line by Zero7,Sophie Barker

His...

It was scrunching hot outside. Manila heat didn’t just sit on your skin—it wrestled you to the ground and dared you to breathe. Inside the Veloura Royale Hotel, though, the air was cool, the floors polished to a shine under soft golden lights.

Vincenzo Andreen Sørensen Lorentzo—Enzo to anyone who didn’t want a tongue cramp—adjusted the collar of his shirt as he waited at the table. Ashley had said she was introducing them to someone important today, and though he’d only half-listened at first, curiosity was starting to spark.

He was thirty-four. A bachelor, a former Navy man, and the kind of guy who could chat with a waiter like they were old friends, then walk into a boardroom like he owned the place. His vibe was laid-back, but his aura? Sharp enough to slice through a lie in a heartbeat.

These days, Enzo spent more time managing the quiet gears of the family empire—a chain of luxury resorts, a tech venture or two, even a logistics firm. He wasn’t the face of the dynasty; he didn’t need to be. His assistants kept his calendar airtight, and the big decisions happened behind closed doors, away from cameras and speeches.

He was the third of four siblings, but the one their father trusted most. Not because he was the loudest or most ambitious—he wasn’t—but because he was consistent. Solid. The kind of man who followed through on his word.

Despite the weight of his last name, Enzo stayed grounded. Still, strangers rarely saw that. At six foot three, with a build that hinted at his Navy years, he had the kind of face people remembered—sharp jaw, sun-kissed skin, and eyes the color of a brewing storm. When he smiled, he looked like someone you could spend hours laughing with over drinks. But when he didn’t—which was often—his presence was… disarming. Some called it charisma. Others called it intimidating.

His family liked to tease that he was a playboy. Not because he chased women—he didn’t—but because women seemed to notice him whether he wanted them to or not. He had only ever been serious with one: Cecilia, a Mexican-American artist who could turn a bare canvas into an ocean, and a quiet night into a song. They’d been together since high school, a romance that survived the chaos of college and early careers. Until she left.

She wanted to study medicine abroad—“to grow, to expand,” she’d said. He had encouraged her. Believed she’d come back. She didn’t. That was years ago.

The breakup had gutted him, but Enzo didn’t wallow. He drowned himself in Navy work instead—long days, brutal drills, missions that left no room for heartbreak. Over time, the sting dulled. The love didn’t vanish, but it stopped bleeding.

When he finally left the service, he returned to business. Not for status. Not even for money. For purpose.

Born in Sweden, and raised partly in California, Enzo carried both—a Scandinavian steadiness and an easy California charm.

Now, standing in the cool lobby of the Veloura Royale Hotel, the family’s crown jewel, he adjusted his cufflinks and scanned the room. Marble floors reflected warm light, the scent of polished wood lingering in the air. Across the space, Ashley spotted him and waved.

"Finally!" she said. "I thought the heat melted you."

"Almost," he replied, giving her a side hug.

Their other cousins—Micah and Clarisse—were already there, chatting with three of their close friends who had flown in with them. This wasn't just a family trip. It was a chance to explore the Philippines, check on business, and unwind.

Ashley was his favorite. Humble to the core. If you didn't know her, you'd never guess she owned Derma clinics, healing centers, and was part of the hotel's legacy bloodline.

Ashley clapped her hands. “Okay! I’m meeting my virtual assistant today. Finally. You know, she’s honestly a blessing.”

“Virtual assistant?” Clarisse asked, intrigued. “Like an AI?”

“No,” Ashley laughed. “She’s a real person. Lives here in the Philippines. Single mom. And honestly, she’s the most efficient, kind, and organized person I’ve ever worked with. I keep telling you guys—my clinics would fall apart without her.”

Enzo tilted his head slightly. He wasn’t sure what he expected—maybe someone in sharp business attire, or the type who talked faster than she thought. Either way, curiosity took root.

The restaurant doors opened a moment later. A woman stepped inside quietly, posture straight, eyes scanning the room with calm precision. She smiled politely as Ashley stood to greet her.

“Ana!” Ashley called, grinning wide. The two embraced like old friends. Enzo caught the way Ana’s shoulders relaxed slightly in Ashley’s arms, as if the greeting dissolved some invisible weight.

Ashley, all warmth and easy charm, pulled back to study her. “You look beautiful. I love your energy already.”

That Ana’s smile was small, almost self-conscious. She said something about bringing documents, but Ashley waved it off with a laugh. “Work later. Right now, you’re here as my guest. Let’s grab lunch.”

For a brief second, Enzo saw it—the flicker of hesitation in Ana’s eyes. Like someone not entirely used to being welcomed without condition. But she followed Ashley toward the table, moving with that same measured grace as before.

Enzo leaned back in his chair, watching without meaning to. There was no show in her presence, no attempt to impress. And yet, he had the distinct feeling that this lunch was more than a casual meet-up for her. It felt… significant. Like she’d just stepped into a room she’d fought hard to reach.

“This is Ana, everyone.”

Her smile was warm but… careful. Not shy exactly, but measured. Her gaze swept over the table of cousins and friends—men and women dressed like they’d stepped out of a lifestyle magazine—and landed on him for a fraction of a second. And that was it. No second glance. No giggle. Not even the faintest blush.

That, Enzo noticed immediately.

He wasn’t arrogant, but facts were facts—he and his brothers had the kind of looks that made strangers do double takes. His youngest brother always joked they should get royalties for keeping shampoo commercials alive. Enzo believed it, too. Which is why Ana’s complete lack of reaction made him wonder for the first time in years if his genes had finally lost their edge.

She greeted each person at the table in turn, her tone soft but professional. When their eyes met again, it was brief, like he was just another name on her mental checklist.

He leaned forward slightly. “So, Ana, how long have you worked with Ashley?”

“Almost two years, sir,” she replied.

“Sir?” he chuckled. “Just Enzo, please.”

She nodded once, politely, and said nothing more.

As the meal went on, Enzo found himself watching her—not with romantic intent, not yet, but with the kind of curiosity that lingered. There was something in the way she carried herself. Like someone who had seen storms but chose to speak of sunshine. Someone who didn’t need a spotlight to know her own worth.

And for reasons he couldn’t quite name, he wanted to know what those storms were.

______๑♡⁠๑____________๑♡⁠๑______

Manila – Veloura Royale Hotel. Late Lunch.

▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• Gravity by John Mayers

His...

Ashley had reserved a long table at the hotel’s main lobby restaurant. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling glass, flooding the space with a warm, natural glow. Outside, the city moved in slow rhythm—cars gliding past, people weaving along sidewalks, the hum of midday life softened by the thick glass.

The low hum of lunchtime chatter filled the restaurant as Ana approached the table. She moved with the same measured calm she had earlier, her cream blouse and navy blue slacks catching the light through the tall windows. Professional yet unpretentious, she carried herself like someone who didn’t need to demand attention—attention simply followed her.

Most women Enzo met in social settings tried to make their presence known—loud laughter, exaggerated gestures, that subtle competition for space in the room. But Ana? She was the opposite. She didn’t push to be noticed, and somehow, that made her stand out even more.

Ashley lit up the moment she saw her. “Everyone, this is Ana! The brains behind my sanity.”

Ana laughed softly, almost embarrassed by the praise, then greeted the group with a warm but polite smile. “Hi, good aftenoon”

Her voice was smooth, with the careful cadence of someone born in the province but trained to speak for clients overseas. Graceful, yet measured. Not shy—but guarded, like a woman who had learned that attention often came with a cost.

She took a seat across from Ashley, a few spots down from Enzo. He found himself leaning slightly in her direction without thinking.

Chris, one of their childhood friends, leaned forward. “Ana, since you’re local, maybe you can help us plan? What do you suggest we do while we’re here?”

Ana blinked, then smiled apologetically. “To be honest, I haven’t explored much. I was born here, yes, but I’ve been working most of my life. I know more about deadlines than destinations.”

She let out a small chuckle, the kind that didn’t demand laughter in return.

Then it happened—her lips curved into a nervous smile, and she bit the lower one briefly, as if catching back words she’d decided not to say.

Enzo caught it.

It wasn’t calculated. It wasn’t flirtatious. It was small, unconscious—and for some reason, it hit him like a punch to the ribs.

Her teeth barely grazed her lower lip before she turned her head, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear and returning to the conversation. But Enzo’s focus stayed right where she’d left it.

He sat there, jaw tight, suddenly aware of how warm the room had become. The motion wasn’t meant to seduce, but it was the most disarming thing he’d seen in weeks.

He wondered—what would it be like to kiss her?

Would her lips be soft, maybe a little dry from talking all day?

Would she pull away at first, startled?

Or would she pause, hesitate… then give in, with that same quiet uncertainty he’d just seen in her smile?

The thought lodged itself in his chest. And he hated it. He wasn’t here for this. He was here for family. For business.

Micah, seated beside him, nudged his arm hard enough to spill a bit of water. “Dude,” she muttered, “if you stare any harder, you’re gonna burn a hole through her.”

Enzo straightened, coughed lightly, and picked up his fork. “I was listening,” he murmured.

Micah grinned. “To her words or her lips?”

He didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Instead, he tuned in to the laughter around the table, the hum of voices, the clinking of glasses. But the image lingered—Ana’s quiet voice, the lip bite, the smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

There was something about her that wasn’t just attractive—it was haunting.

Like a storm that had passed but left the air heavy.

Like a song you couldn’t name but somehow knew. Something you felt before you understood.