Beneath The Ashes

Massimo led me out of the house, his broad frame casting a long shadow across the steps.

Zayn was leaning against a black car, arms crossed, one ankle resting over the other. His dark hair was tousled in a way that looked effortlessly cool, and his leather jacket made him look like he'd just stepped out of a fashion magazine. His gaze flicked over to us, brow lifting in surprise.

Zayn pushed off the car, his eyes narrowed at Massimo. "Umm What are you doing here, big guy?" He looked me up and down. "I thought this was our trip."

Massimo crossed his arms. "I'm keeping an eye on you."

Zayn scoffed, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. "Me? What could I possibly do?"

Massimo arched a brow. "You want the list alphabetically or chronologically?"

I giggled, covering my mouth. Zayn's gaze snapped to me, eyes wide. "Ivy! Don't encourage him." He turned back to Massimo, jabbing a finger in his direction. "She doesn't need a chaperone."

Massimo didn't even blink. "You do."

Zayn looked personally offended. "Are you serious right now?" He turned to me, pleading. "Ivy, come on. Back me up here."

I hesitated, glancing between them. Zayn's puppy-dog eyes were hard to resist, but... "Actually, I'd like Massimo to come." I smiled softly. "It'll be fun."

Zayn gawked at me. "Fun?" He looked at Massimo like he'd grown a second head. "What's fun about Mr. Doom and Gloom over there?"

Massimo just smirked, clearly enjoying Zayn's dramatics.

With an exaggerated sigh, Zayn threw his hands in the air. "Fine. But if he kills the vibe, I'm blaming you."

Slipping into the passenger seat as Massimo took the driver's side. Zayn slid into the back, muttering under his breath. As Massimo started the car, Zayn leaned forward, resting his chin on the seat between us.

"You know," he said, pouting, "I was supposed to drive. And you," he poked my shoulder gently, "were supposed to sit up here and look cute while I showed you the city."

Massimo ignored him entirely, eyes on the road.

"Great," Zayn muttered, flopping back into his seat. "Trip ruined."

The car glided smoothly through the city, the purr of the engine filling the silence. I glanced out the window, watching the buildings blur past. After a few minutes, I noticed something strange.

There were other cars, dark vehicles that moved with us, keeping pace no matter how many turns Massimo took. I frowned.

"Uh... are we being followed?"

Zayn snorted. "Nope. That's just Massimo being paranoid." He shot his brother a look. "Apparently, we need a full-blown security detail for a shopping trip."

Massimo didn't even flinch. "Stop lying." His voice was dry, calm. "You know exactly why they're here."

I glanced between them. "Why are they here?"

Massimo's jaw tightened, eyes locked on the road. "Don't worry about it."

Zayn teased dramatically. "See? Paranoid."

I wanted to ask more, but the weight in Massimo's tone told me I wouldn't get any answers. So, I stayed quiet, watching the dark cars in the mirrors as we drove.

When we finally arrived, I couldn't help but gasp. The street stretched out before us, lined with glossy storefronts boasting names I never dared to dream about. Hermès. Valentino. Tom Ford. Dior. It was like stepping into another world — the kind where the price tags had more zeros than I'd ever seen in my life.