Beneath The Ashes - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

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.
As soon as we stepped onto the pathway, Zayn stretched his arms wide, grinning. "Welcome to paradise."
I shifted uncomfortably. "I... don't think this is my kind of place."
Zayn scoffed. "Nonsense." He slung an arm around my shoulders. "You need everything."
"I really don't." I frowned. "I just need a couple of things."
"Wrong." Zayn pointed dramatically at a nearby window display shimmering with Balenciaga handbags. "We're buying everything."
Before I could protest, Massimo stepped between us, his gaze steady on Zayn. "She'll pick what she wants." His voice was low, authoritative. "We'll buy."
I blinked up at him, surprised. "Massimo, I don't want you to spend a ton of money on me."
His eyes softened. "Don't worry about the money." He gestured to the stores. "Pick what you like. No one's keeping score."
I hesitated, glancing back at the gleaming storefronts. It felt... wrong. The idea of waltzing into these places and buying things — expensive things — made my stomach twist.
But when I looked back at Massimo, his expression wasn't cold or distant. It was patient. Understanding.
"Okay," I whispered.
Zayn whooped, grabbing my hand and dragging me toward the first store. "Let's go!"
———————————-
Zayn was a force of nature. The moment we stepped into the first store, he took charge like a man on a mission. Grabbing dresses, jackets, and accessories off the racks, he practically shoved them into my arms, barely giving me time to blink. Every time I hesitated, trying to explain that I didn't need half the things he was piling up, he waved me off with a dramatic flourish.
"Sweetheart," Zayn said, draping a stunning black coat over my shoulders, "need has nothing to do with it. You deserve this."
I blushed, glancing at the price tag. "Zayn, this coat is—"
"Perfect." He cut me off with a grin. "Just like you."
I opened my mouth, but he turned to the sales associate before I could get a word out. "We'll take it."
The woman beamed, sweeping the coat from my shoulders and heading toward the register. I shot Massimo a helpless look, but he just crossed his arms and stood silently near the entrance, watching everything unfold with that unreadable expression of his.
And that set the tone for the entire afternoon.
He insisted I try on everything from casual outfits to jaw-dropping gowns, gasping dramatically every time I walked out of the dressing room.
"You're a goddess," he declared as I stepped out in a dark red outfit that hugged my curves a little too well. "We're buying this."
I flushed. "Zayn, I'll never wear this."
"You will ..Don't be self-conscious, you can wear anything you feel like cause we know how to fight." He waggled his brows at me. "Massimo, back me up here."
Massimo glanced up from his phone. "Buy what you want."
Zayn whooped, tossing the dress into the growing pile of purchases.
Massimo, on the other hand, remained quiet. He followed us from store to store, his presence a steady weight behind me. He never commented on Zayn's choices, never scolded him for the excessive shopping. He just... watched.
It wasn't until we hit the final store, I was dead tired on my legs.
Zayn was holding up two dresses — one a soft pastel pink, the other a bold, fiery red. "Okay, Ivy. Which one?"
Before I could protest, Massimo finally spoke. "Zayn."
The single word made Zayn freeze. He turned slowly, giving his brother a sheepish grin. "Yes, dear brother?"
Massimo arched a brow. "How many dresses have you bought her today?"
Zayn shrugged. "Who's counting?"
"I am." Massimo's gaze flicked to the mountain of bags accumulating at the front of the store. "We came here to get Ivy what she needed and now she looks tired ."
Zayn pouted, holding up the dresses. "But she looks so cute in them."
Massimo turned to me, his expression softening. "Ivy. Do you want to continue shopping?" He gestured to the bags. "If you don't, we'll return home."
I shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Zayn. "I mean... it's a lot. But..." I smiled softly. "My legs are giving up but It made Zayn happy. And honestly? It was kind of fun."
Zayn beamed, throwing an arm around my shoulders. "See? She gets it."
Massimo sighed again, but there was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Let's get out of here before Zayn buys out the whole street."
Zayn pumped his fist in the air. "Success!"
————-
Massimo handed over his black card without a second thought, the kind of card that didn't have a limit — the kind I'd only ever seen in movies. The cashier took it with wide eyes, treating him like royalty as she carefully processed the transaction. My stomach twisted uncomfortably.
When the receipt printed, the total made my breath catch. I reached out, lightly tugging on Massimo's sleeve. "I... I don't like this." My voice was quiet but firm.
Massimo barely blinked. "We'll return whatever you don't like. It's not a problem." His tone was so casual, like this was a completely normal thing to say.
"No," I said quickly. "It's not the clothes. I love everything — really. It's the money. You shouldn't have to pay so much. Not for me."
Massimo frowned slightly, studying me with those sharp, unreadable eyes. Before he could respond, Zayn suddenly appeared at my side, dramatically gasping and grabbing my arm.
"Oh my God, Ivy, look at this!" He shoved his phone in front of me, showing off some ridiculous, diamond-studded purse he'd found online. "We have to get this next time. It screams 'fashionable but mysterious.'"
Massimo gently guided me toward the exit. The guards followed behind us, arms loaded with bags from every store we'd visited. As we walked back to the cars, the cold air nipping at my cheeks, Massimo quietly spoke again, his deep voice low and steady.
"You know... we've earned every cent we've spent today."
I glanced up at him, frowning. "What do you mean?"
Massimo's gaze stayed fixed ahead, but his expression darkened. "Zayn, I — all of our brothers— we've worked hard for everything we have. Hustled. Fought. Sacrificed." He paused for a moment, his jaw tightening. "But until today, we never really had anyone to spend it on except ourselves."
I looked down, processing his words.
"Look at him," Massimo said, nodding toward Zayn.
I turned to see Zayn still rambling to himself, excitedly listing off shops we hadn't hit yet, oblivious to the fact that no one was listening. He was practically bouncing with energy, his hands flying through the air as he spoke.
Massimo's lips curved into the faintest smile. "He's happy. Not because of the shopping. Not because of the money. But because today... he got to spoil his sister."
I sucked in a breath. The word hit me like a warm hug on a cold day. Sister.
Massimo continued, his voice gentle now. "We're not doing this to brag. Or to show off. We're doing it because we want you to feel... taken care of. Pampered. Safe." He looked down at me, his dark eyes unusually soft . "You're our sister now."
Something inside me cracked wide open. Without thinking, I turned and threw my arms around him, burying my face in his chest.
"Thank you," I whispered, holding on tightly. "I always wanted brothers like you."
Massimo stiffened for a moment, clearly caught off guard. But then, slowly, his arms wrapped around me, holding me close. His warmth was steady, reassuring — like a quiet promise that I wasn't alone anymore.
"Ugh, seriously?" Zayn's voice broke through the moment. "I'm over here giving valuable insight into future shopping trips, and you two are having a heartfelt moment without me?"
Before either of us could react, Zayn barreled into us, arms wrapping around both me and Massimo in a crushing group hug. "If there's a hug happening, I'm in it."
I giggled, squished between them. Massimo groaned but didn't push him away.
"Alright, alright." Massimo sighed, but I caught the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Let's go home."
I take the bags from guards and help them keep it into car
we piled into the car and headed back to the house, I leaned against the window, watching the city lights blur past.