Chapter 4

♣️ Dystopian Feelings.

‎Something is wrong with me.

‎If there was one thing I disliked more than inefficiency, it was unpredictability.

‎And yet, ‎I found myself arriving at brunch ten minutes early.

‎I never arrived early.

‎I stepped out of the car, handing my keys to the valet without a second glance before walking into the restaurant.

‎It was one of Sofia’s favorites. Minimalist, expensive, and filled with people who pretended not to stare while doing exactly that.

‎I didn’t notice them.

‎I was still thinking about him.

‎That in itself was a problem.

‎“Isabella.”

‎I looked up.

‎Sofia was already seated, one leg crossed over the other, a glass of wine in hand despite the time of day.

‎Her red hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, catching the light like fire. She looked effortless, composed, dangerous in a way that matched me but expressed itself differently.

‎Where I was quiet—

‎Sofia was not.

‎“You’re late,” she said, raising a brow.

‎“I’m early.”

‎She checked her watch.

‎Then smirked.

‎“Oh. This is serious.”

‎I slid into the seat across from her.

‎“It’s not anything.”

‎She hummed, unconvinced, and took another sip of her wine.

‎We ordered without much discussion. We always did. Routine made things easier.

‎“So,” Sofia began, leaning forward slightly, “let’s start with something entertaining. My mother tried to set me up again.”

‎I sighed softly.

‎“With who this time?”

‎“Some finance guy with a personality as dry as stale bread,” she said dramatically. “He kept talking about his businesses like it was going to turn me on. Like dude, just shut up already!”

"He was hot though I'll give him that. But him being a chatterbox completely turned me off to the point that I didn't even want to have sex with him just for the fun of it y'know." She added.

‎I didn’t react.

‎She narrowed her eyes at me.

‎“That was funny.”

‎“It was predictable.”

‎She gasped softly, placing a hand over her chest.

‎“Wow. So you can talk.”

‎“Of course I can.”

‎“You're zoning out Izzy,” she insisted. “You would’ve at least insulted him creatively with me.”

‎“I’m saving my energy.”

‎“For what?” she asked, leaning forward.

‎I didn’t answer immediately.

‎Instead, I picked up my glass and took a slow sip.

‎Sofia watched me.

‎Carefully.

‎Her expression shifted slightly.

‎“You’re quiet,” she said.

‎“I’m always quiet.”

‎“Not like this.”

‎I set the glass down.

‎She leaned in further.

‎“What happened?”

‎Silence stretched between us for a moment.

‎I didn’t know why I was hesitating.

‎It was… insignificant.

‎But it wasn’t.

‎And that was the problem.

‎“I met someone,” I said finally.

‎Sofia blinked.

‎Then blinked again.

‎“…What?”

‎I looked away briefly, exhaling softly.

‎“My car broke down.”

‎“That alone is shocking,” she muttered.

‎“A man stopped to help.”

‎She stared at me.

‎Waiting.

‎“And?” she prompted.

‎I frowned slightly.

‎“And… nothing.”

‎“That’s not a story.”

‎“He fixed it. I offered him money. He refused.”

‎Sofia’s brows lifted.

‎“…He refused?”

‎“Yes.”

‎“Like—refused refused?”

‎“Yes, Sofia.”

‎She leaned back slowly, studying me like I had just said something deeply concerning.

‎“And you’re thinking about this man… because he didn’t take your money?”

‎“It’s not just that.”

‎“What is it then?”

‎I paused.

‎That was the part I didn’t fully understand.

‎“I don’t know,” I admitted.

‎Sofia froze.

‎Then—

‎She squealed.

‎Loudly.

‎Heads turned.

‎I immediately reached forward, grabbing her wrist.

‎“Sofia.”

‎“OH. MY. GOD. IZZY—”

‎“Lower your voice.”

‎“YOU HAVE A CRUSH!”

‎I tightened my grip slightly.

‎“I do not.”

‎“You do!” she whisper-yelled, practically vibrating in her seat. “I have known you for years and you have never—never—talked about a man like this!”

‎“I’m not talking about him like anything.”

‎“You just said you don’t understand why you’re thinking about him. That is textbook behavior.”

‎“It is not.”

‎“It is,” she insisted. “Do you know how many men threw themselves at you in college?”

‎I didn’t respond.

‎“Do you?” she pressed. “Because I do. I counted. There were at least twelve. Twelve, Isabella.”

‎“They were irrelevant.”

‎“You called one of them ‘genetically disappointing’ to his face.”

‎“He was.”

‎Sofia pointed at me dramatically.

‎“And now suddenly, a random mechanic fixes your car and you’re sitting here like—” she gestured vaguely “—this.”

‎“This what?”

‎“This confused little… person.”

‎I stared at her.

‎“I am not confused.”

‎“You just said you don’t understand your own feelings.”

‎“That is not confusion. That is observation.”

‎She leaned back again, shaking her head in disbelief.

‎“I was starting to think you were asexual,” she said bluntly.

‎I blinked.

‎“That’s not how that works.”

‎“I mean it,” she continued. “You have never shown interest in anyone. Ever.”

‎“They didn’t interest me.”

‎“And this one does.”

‎Silence.

‎I picked up my glass again.

‎Took a slow sip.

‎Sofia leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

‎“Oh my God,” she whispered. “You’re serious.”

‎I didn’t answer.

‎“That’s insane.”

‎“It’s not insane.”

‎“You’re a virgin,” she added casually.

‎I nearly choked on my wine.

‎“Sofia.”

‎“What?” she shrugged. “It’s true.”

‎“That is not relevant.”

‎“It is extremely relevant,” she said. “You need to get laid.”

‎I stared at her.

‎“No.”

‎“Yes.”

‎“No.”

‎She rolled her eyes.

‎“Fine. Not ‘laid.’ Whatever you want to call it. But clearly something is happening here and I support it.”

‎“You support it.”

‎“I do,” she nodded enthusiastically. “So tell me—what does he look like?”

‎I hesitated.

‎Then answered.

‎“Lean. Strong. Long hair. Tied back.”

‎Sofia froze.

‎Then slowly grinned.

‎“Oh.”

‎“What?”

‎“Oh, I know that type.”

‎“You don’t know him.”

‎“I don’t need to,” she said, sipping her wine. “He’s a mechanic, right?”

‎“Yes.”

‎She smirked.

‎“Greasy guys are hot.”

‎I raised a brow.

‎“That’s a generalization.”

‎“It’s experience,” she corrected. “And if there’s one thing I know as a certified maneater—”

‎I sighed, here she goes with her self-glazing.

‎“—it’s that they’re even hotter in bed.”

‎I rolled my eyes.

‎“You’re insufferable.”

‎“And you’re repressed.”

‎“I am not repressed.”

‎“You are curious,” she shot back. “Which is worse.”

‎I didn’t respond.

‎Because...

‎She wasn’t entirely wrong.

"If he's on your mind this much after just seeing him for the first time, dig into it. I mean, you are capable of getting anyone if you really want to, and you seem to have much interest in this random bloke"

I think about it, and maybe she's right.

I needed to understand why I felt this way for this guy.

‎♣️

‎By the time brunch ended, Sofia had extracted every possible detail she could from me.

‎Most of which I hadn’t intended to share.

‎But it left me with something else.

‎A thought.

‎A question.

‎Who exactly was Daniel Álvarez?

‎I don’t leave things unknown.

‎I don’t like gaps.

‎So I filled them.

‎I may have done some research.

‎It didn’t take long.

‎It never did.

‎By the time I got back home, I had everything I needed.

‎Address.

‎Business records.

‎Licenses.

‎His garage was small.

‎Independent.

‎Well-reviewed.

‎Consistent clientele.

‎No criminal record.

‎No outstanding debts.

‎Clean.

‎Too clean.

‎That should have made him uninteresting.

‎It didn’t.

‎I leaned back in my chair, scrolling further.

‎Photos.

‎That’s when I saw it.

‎Him.

‎Not in a garage.

‎On a track.

‎Cars lined up.

‎Engines roaring.

‎Crowds gathered.

‎Drag racing.

‎I paused.

‎Zoomed in slightly.

‎There he was.

‎Standing beside a car, sleeves rolled, hair tied back, that same ease in his posture.

‎Something twisted low in my stomach.

‎Sharp.

‎Unexpected.

‎I stared at the image longer than necessary.

‎Extreme.

‎Risk.

‎Speed.

‎It fit.

‎Too well.

‎I had always been drawn to men who existed on the edge of something.

‎Danger.

‎Control.

‎Power.

‎Daniel—he wasn’t like that.

‎And yet somehow,

‎He was.

‎Just in a different way.

‎I leaned back slowly.

‎Exhaling.

‎This didn’t make sense.

‎He didn’t belong in my world.

‎He didn’t fit any of the patterns I understood.

‎And yet...

‎He checked every box I didn’t know I had.

‎I closed the laptop.

‎But his name stayed.

‎His face stayed.

‎That moment on the highway?

‎It stayed.

‎And for the first time in years,

‎I didn’t dismiss it.

‎I didn’t suppress it.

‎I let it sit.

‎Curious.

‎Interested.

‎Drawn.

‎“…Daniel Álvarez. You're starting to intrigue me” I murmured again.

‎This time, it didn’t feel unfamiliar.

‎It felt like something I was about to understand.

‎And that...that was far more dangerous than anything I had faced before.

‎♣️♣️♣️♣️♣️

‎Daniel

‎♣️

‎By the time I got back to the garage, the smell of oil and metal had already settled back into my skin.

‎Familiar.

‎Grounding.

‎“Finally,” a voice called from under a car. “You disappear for, what, twenty minutes and come back like you just saw a ghost.”

‎I grabbed a rag, wiping my hands as I walked further in.

‎“Some rich lady's Maybach broke down on the highway,” I said.

‎“Yeah? And you fixed it for free again, didn’t you?”

‎I didn’t answer.

‎That was enough.

‎Seb slid out from under the car, grease streaked across his cheek, eyes already narrowed at me.

‎“You did,” he muttered, sitting up. “I swear, man, sometimes your honesty pisses me off.”

‎“It was a quick fix.”

‎“That’s not the point,” he shot back, standing up. “Do you know how much people pay for roadside help like that?”

‎I shrugged.

‎“She offered.”

‎“And you said no.”

‎“Yes.”

‎He threw his hands up.

‎“Unbelievable.”

‎I leaned against the workbench, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a long sip before speaking again.

‎“She didn’t need to pay.”

‎Seb scoffed.

‎“Rich people always need to pay. That’s how balance works.”

‎I almost smiled.

‎“Not everything is about money.”

‎“That’s easy for you to say when you keep refusing it.”

‎I ignored that.

‎Because if I was being honest—

‎Money wasn’t what stayed on my mind.

‎It was her.

‎I exhaled slowly, staring at nothing in particular.

‎He caught it immediately.

‎“…Nah,” he said slowly. “Don’t tell me.”

‎I didn’t respond.

‎He stepped closer.

‎“Daniel.”

‎Still nothing.

‎“Daniel.”

‎I sighed.

‎“What?”

‎“You’re thinking about her.”

‎I paused.

‎Then shrugged slightly.

‎“She was… different.”

‎Seb blinked.

‎Then laughed.

‎“Different?”

‎I frowned.

‎“What?”

‎“You? Saying that?” he shook his head. “Alright. Go on. Let me hear this.”

‎I hesitated for half a second.

‎Then spoke.

‎“She didn’t talk much.”

‎“Okay…”

‎“But when she did, it was like… everything was calculated.”

‎Seb raised a brow.

‎“Calculated?”

‎“Yeah,” I said, frowning slightly as I tried to explain it. “Like she wasn’t guessing anything. Like she already knew how things were going to go.”

‎“Sounds intimidating.”

‎“She wasn’t trying to be.”

‎That was the strange part.

‎“She just… was.”

‎Seb leaned against the bench beside me.

‎“And?”

‎I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling softly.

‎“She offered me money.”

‎“And you refused,” he said dryly.

‎“Yes.”

‎“Still stupid.”

‎I ignored him.

‎“She didn’t like that.”

‎“No one likes being told no.”

‎“It wasn’t that,” I said. “She looked at me like… she didn’t understand it.”

‎Seb snorted.

‎“Yeah, that’s called rich.”

‎I shook my head slightly.

‎“It wasn’t just that.”

‎He watched me closely now.

‎“What then?”

‎I hesitated.

‎Then said it anyway.

‎“She was… beautiful.”

‎Seb rolled his eyes.

‎“Groundbreaking.”

‎“No,” I said, more firmly this time. “Not like that.”

‎He paused.

‎I leaned back slightly, staring up at the ceiling.

‎“Dangerous.”

‎That got his attention.

‎“Dangerous how?”

‎I exhaled.

‎“I don’t know. Just—” I shook my head. “The kind of beautiful that makes you feel like you should stay away.”

‎Seb stared at me for a second.

‎Then smirked slowly.

‎“Oh, you’re in trouble.”

‎“I’m not in anything.”

‎“You are,” he said confidently. “You just met some mystery woman, refused her money like an idiot, and now you’re here describing her like she’s about to ruin your life.”

‎I huffed a quiet laugh.

‎“That’s dramatic.”

‎“Is it, Danny boy? Is it?” he asked.

‎Before I could answer, the bell above the garage door rang softly.

We both turned.

‎A girl walked in, holding two lunch boxes.

‎“Hey!” she called brightly.

‎I relaxed instantly.

‎“Kaly.”

‎She smiled, walking over quickly, her ponytail swaying behind her.

‎“I brought food,” she said, holding up the containers proudly. “You forgot yours again.”

‎Seb groaned.

‎“Of course you did,” he muttered.

‎I scratched the back of my neck.

‎“Got busy.”

‎“You always get busy,” she said, placing the boxes down and opening them.

‎The smell hit immediately.

‎Warm.

‎Homemade.

‎“You’re spoiling him,” Seb said, shaking his head.

‎Kaly beamed.

‎“I don’t mind.”

‎I sat down, grabbing one of the containers.

‎“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

‎“I want to,” she said quickly.

‎Too quickly.

‎Seb gave me a look.

‎I ignored it.

‎Kaly sat nearby, watching me expectantly as I took a bite.

‎“It’s good,” I said.

‎Her face lit up instantly.

‎“I tried something new—”

‎“Of course you did,” Seb muttered under his breath.

‎She shot him a glare.

‎“What is your problem?”

‎“My problem,” he said, pointing between us, “is that this guy is blind.”

‎I sighed.

‎“Seb—”

‎“No, let me speak,” he continued. “You have a girl bringing you homemade food, looking at you like you hung the moon, and you’re just sitting there eating like it’s normal.”

‎Kaly went still.

‎I set the fork down.

‎“Stop.”

‎He didn’t.

‎“Why don’t you just give her a chance?”

‎Silence fell.

‎Heavy.

‎I looked at Kaly.

‎Her eyes dropped.

‎And that was exactly why I hated this conversation.

‎I exhaled slowly.

‎“Kaly,” I said gently, “you know I don’t—”

‎“I know,” she cut in quickly, forcing a smile. “It’s fine.”

‎It wasn’t.

‎But she said it anyway.

‎“I just like taking care of you,” she added softly.

‎That made it worse.

‎I leaned back slightly.

‎“You’re like family to me.”

‎Seb groaned.

‎“Here we go.”

‎“I mean it,” I continued, ignoring him. “I don’t want to ruin that.”

‎Kaly nodded.

‎“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I get it.”

‎Seb shook his head, muttering something under his breath.

‎“And besides,” I added, “I don’t have time for a relationship.”

‎“That’s an excuse,” Seb said immediately, calling my bullshit.

‎“It’s the truth.”

‎“Or maybe,” he smirked, “you just haven’t met the right one.”

‎I didn’t respond.

‎Because for a split second—

‎A pair of sharp eyes flashed through my mind.

‎Cold.

‎Controlled.

‎Dangerous.

‎I frowned slightly.

‎No.

‎That was nothing.

‎Just a random encounter.

‎Meaningless.

‎The bell above the door rang again.

‎This time,

‎Everything shifted.

‎I didn’t know why.

‎But I felt it.

‎Before I even turned,

‎The air changed.

‎Heavier.

‎Quieter.

‎I looked up.

‎And there she was.

‎Standing at the entrance of the garage like she didn’t belong there.

‎And yet, like everything belonged to her.

Same composed expression.

‎Same controlled presence.

‎But up close, It was worse.

More intense.

‎More real.

‎My chest tightened slightly.

‎Seb went silent beside me.

‎Even Kaly stopped moving.

‎She walked in slowly, heels clicking softly against the concrete floor.

‎Each step deliberate.

‎Unhurried.

‎Certain.

‎Her gaze swept across the garage,

‎And then landed on me.

‎Locked.

‎Unmoving.

‎And for the first time all day,

‎I understood something clearly.

‎This—

‎Was not going to be simple.