I still could not believe I was here, living under the same roof with Enzo. All because my father could not pay his debt. Instead of giving money, he gave me. His own daughter. And now I will twist this game to my rules
Every time I looked at Enzo, I felt angry. He was the man who bought me like some property.
Today, he came to me with that same serious face.
"You will meet my parents soon," he said. "And you will act like a good wife. I don't want any shame."
I bit my lip hard. My chest burned with anger. "You don't have to remind me every time, Enzo. I already know your rules."
He smirked. "I'll tell someone to come teach you how to act. I know you can't manage on your own." His voice was full of sarcasm.
I hissed under my breath. When will this jerk stop being grumpy?
"What! Why are you hissing at me?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.
I did not answer. Instead, I gave him a sharp look and turned away. My phone started ringing. Thank God — a distraction.
"Hello baby," I said with a smile. It was my friend calling.
As I spoke, I noticed Enzo staring at me, his face unreadable. His cold eyes watched me like he was trying to figure me out.
"How are you?" my friend asked.
"I'm fine," I answered quickly, glancing at Enzo who still looked like a storm waiting to happen.
_____
"You know we need to shopping to buy you dress right" Enzo looked at me as he asked.
" Yes I am aware" and then I got ready.
After some time We stopped in front of a large, classic mall. One of Enzo's guards opened the car door for me. I stepped out, and Enzo reached for my hand. I placed mine in his, and he held it firmly, as if claiming me.
"Smile, witch," he whispered in my ear.
I forced a small smile, though inside I was tense. Why does he always have to act like this? I thought.
The mall was busy with people, some walking past, some just staring. I felt a strange mix of pride and annoyance. Pride because I was walking beside Enzo, my husband—whether I liked it or not. Annoyance because it felt like everyone expected me to behave like some perfect, obedient wife.
As we walked inside, I noticed two young staff girls by a shop counter, whispering and giggling. I could hear them clearly.
"Wow… he's so handsome in real life," one said.
"I know! And he's married to her? Lucky girl," the other giggled.
I felt my face heat up. Lucky? Lucky? I thought bitterly. Do they even know how this happened? That I didn't have a choice?
Enzo, noticing my tension, gave my hand a slight squeeze. It was possessive but oddly reassuring. He signaled his guards to clear a path ahead, and they did so quickly.
"Pick whatever you want," he said, sitting casually on a bench near the entrance, chewing gum. His relaxed, almost lazy attitude annoyed me. He acted as if the whole mall existed just for him—and maybe, in a way, it did.
I started walking through the stores, running my fingers over the fabrics, examining the dresses. A young, handsome sales assistant approached me with a smile.
"Wow, you look very beautiful today," he said.
I straightened up, frowning politely.
"Can I… have your number?" he asked nervously.
"I don't give my number to strangers," I said firmly, keeping my voice calm.
I didn't have to wait long to see Enzo approaching, his steps quick and controlled. When he reached the boy, he grabbed him by the collar and gave him a firm glare. I could see the young man shrinking under his stare.
"That's enough," Enzo said coldly, letting him go. Then he turned to me, his expression softening ever so slightly. "Are you okay?"
I nodded, though my heart was still racing. Possessive, controlling… but somehow protective too, I thought. I sighed, realizing that no matter how much I wanted to fight him, Enzo had a way of making me feel both trapped and safe at the same time.
I stared at Enzo, heart racing. Jealous? The thought made my cheeks flush. I had never seen him act like this so openly. There was no anger at me, no accusation in his voice, only a strange… possessiveness.
He looked at me then, his gaze softening slightly. "Are you okay?" he asked.
I nodded quickly, but I couldn't stop thinking. Why would he be jealous? I had done nothing wrong. I had no interest in the boy. And yet, seeing Enzo protect me like that, feeling the heat of his eyes on me, I realized something confusing—part of me felt a strange thrill.
Jealous… protective… and me, feeling this way? I shook my head, trying to push the thought away. But my heart didn't listen.
After a few minutes, Enzo leaned back slightly on the bench and looked at me. "Do you need more clothes?" he asked, his voice calm but firm.
I blinked at him. "More clothes? I think I have enough… don't I?" I said, feeling a little confused.
"You said you didn't picked your clothes yet from you house ," he said simply, smirking just a little. "Come on, let's find some more."
I sighed but followed him. Together, we moved through several stores, picking out more dresses, shoes, and accessories. Enzo stayed unusually quiet, letting me choose, but I could feel his eyes on me constantly. Every time I lingered near something, he seemed to notice, subtly guiding me along without a word.
Finally, he stopped in a small boutique near the end of the mall. I raised an eyebrow when he glanced around and then asked softly, "Do you need… lingerie too?"
I froze. My face flushed, and I stared at him. Lingerie? Why would he even ask that? My mind raced. Is this really necessary? Or is he… testing me?
He noticed my hesitation but didn't say anything, just picked up a few sets and placed them carefully in a small shopping basket. Then he gestured toward me to continue picking whatever I wanted while he carried the basket to the counter.
I followed silently, my thoughts spinning. Why would he buy this himself? Why not let me pay?
At the counter, he handed the basket to the cashier and paid without a word. I watched him, still confused. His usual cold, grumpy demeanor was mixed now with something I couldn't name—care, attention, and… a strange possessiveness that left me questioning my own feelings.
As we walked out of the store, my mind kept repeating the same question: Why does he care so much?