Michen's POV:

I knew Lucio's patience was wearing thin, especially when it came to Kate. I had turned off all the water in the mansion except in Lucio's room—a small act of meddling to push them closer. It was clear to anyone with half a brain that there was something brewing between them. Lucio might not admit it, but his anger when Kate interacted with the rest of us was proof enough.

Kate wasn't like anyone Lucio had ever been close to, especially after what Carlene had done to him. I wasn't sure if Lucio could even open himself up to someone again, but I hoped Kate might be the one to change that. She deserved someone strong, and he needed someone to help him heal. But knowing Lucio, he'd find a way to mess it all up.

Lucio's POV

The mall was as loud and chaotic as I remembered, a place I usually avoided unless absolutely necessary. Today was one of those rare exceptions, and I was already regretting it. The buzzing of conversations, the screech of kids running around, and the artificial brightness of the fluorescent lights made my mood darker by the second.

Kate walked ahead of us, glancing at store windows but not actually going in. Her hands clutched the straps of her bag, her fingers fidgeting as if she was uncomfortable. She wasn't excited like I expected; she seemed nervous, out of her element. That only made me more annoyed.

Michen nudged my shoulder, his grin infuriating. "What's up with you? You've been brooding since we got here."

"Shut up, Michen," I muttered, shoving his hand off.

He chuckled, clearly not taking me seriously. "You're worse than usual, boss. Could it be that you're jealous? Worried someone else might catch her eye?"

I shot him a glare. "Watch it."

The others caught up, laughing as they joined in on Michen's teasing. "He's definitely jealous," Steven said, slinging an arm around Jordan's shoulder. "He's got that 'don't touch what's mine' vibe going on."

I ignored them, keeping my eyes on Kate as she hesitated in front of a store with mannequins wearing brightly colored dresses. Her brow furrowed, and she glanced back at us before stepping inside.

We followed her into the store, the air immediately smelling of fabric and perfume. Kate wandered between the racks, her fingers brushing over the clothes but not pulling anything off the hangers. She was stalling.

"What's wrong with her?" Jordan whispered, leaning closer to me.

"She's nervous," Michen answered, smirking. "Probably doesn't want to pick something you'll hate, King."

I grunted, folding my arms. "She can pick whatever she wants."

"Can she?" Steven raised an eyebrow. "Because you look like you're ready to veto half the store."

I ignored them, focusing on Kate as she finally pulled a dress from the rack. It was short, bright red, and had a neckline that made my blood pressure spike. She held it up, examining it with a thoughtful expression before glancing back at me. Her eyes widened slightly when she caught my glare.

"Put it back," I said, my voice low but firm.

Her brows knitted together. "Why?"

"It's not appropriate."

"It's a dress," she argued, her tone defensive.

"It's barely a dress," I shot back. "Find something else."

Michen and the others burst into laughter, their voices carrying through the store. "Oh, this is gold," Michen said, clutching his stomach. "The great Lucio King, fashion critic."

"Shut up," I snapped, my fists clenching at my sides. Kate rolled her eyes and put the dress back, moving further into the store.

She pulled another dress from the rack, this one a soft blue with a modest cut. "Is this okay, Your Majesty?" she asked sarcastically, holding it up for me to see.

"It's fine," I said through gritted teeth, ignoring the snickers from the guys. She smirked, clearly enjoying this more than she should.

As she continued browsing, I realized I was paying more attention to what she was choosing than I wanted to admit. Every time she reached for something too revealing or too flashy, I couldn't stop myself from intervening. And every time, the guys found it funnier.

By the time we reached the fitting rooms, Kate had an armful of clothes. I leaned against the wall outside, trying to look indifferent while the others hovered nearby, their laughter still echoing in my ears.

"She's got you wrapped around her finger," Steven said, shaking his head.

"Keep talking and see what happens," I warned, my patience wearing thin.

Jordan grinned. "He's jealous. It's adorable."

I was about to tell them all to leave when the fitting room door opened, and Kate stepped out wearing one of the dresses she'd picked. It was simple, a soft green that brought out the warmth in her eyes, but it hugged her figure in a way that made me clench my jaw.

"Well?" she asked, spinning slightly. "What do you think?"

The guys whistled and clapped, their reactions only fueling my irritation. "You look amazing," Michen said, grinning at me as if daring me to disagree.

"It's fine," I said, my voice cold.

Kate raised an eyebrow. "Just fine?"

I shrugged, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a real compliment. "Try the next one."

She rolled her eyes but disappeared back into the fitting room. The guys exchanged looks, and I knew they were about to start again.

"You're a mess, King," Michen said, shaking his head. "Just admit you're into her."

"I'm not," I lied, the words tasting bitter.

The process repeated with every outfit she tried on. Each time she stepped out, I found myself holding my breath, my eyes drawn to her despite my best efforts. And each time, the guys made it worse with their comments and laughter.

When she finally finished, her pile of chosen clothes was smaller than I expected. "That's it?" I asked, frowning.

"I don't need much," she said, her voice cautious.

"You're getting more," I said, grabbing a few more items from the racks and adding them to the pile. "And no arguing."

Her lips parted as if to protest, but she seemed to think better of it. "Fine," she muttered, crossing her arms.

By the time we left the store, the guys were still laughing, and Kate was carrying more bags than she'd planned for. As we walked toward the food court, she finally broke the silence.

"Why do you care so much about what I wear?" she asked, her tone genuinely curious.

I glanced at her, the question catching me off guard. "Because I'm responsible for you."

She scoffed, shaking her head. "That's not it."

"It's enough," I said, ending the conversation.

But as we sat down to eat, her words lingered. Maybe it wasn't just responsibility. Maybe it was something I wasn't ready to admit—not to her, and not to myself.

The bustling mall continued to hum with activity as we made our way to the next section of stores. The guys were busy cracking jokes and teasing me about how I'd micromanaged Kate's wardrobe choices earlier. Kate, for her part, was unusually quiet, her eyes darting from shop window to shop window as if she were searching for something.

"I'll just... check out this place," she said suddenly, pointing toward an upscale boutique with a gold-plated sign and polished glass doors. Before I could respond, she hurried inside, clutching one of the smaller shopping bags like a lifeline.

"Is it just me, or is she acting weird?" Steven asked, his brow furrowed.

"She's fine," I said, though her behavior had me on edge. I didn't like how quickly she'd slipped away.

Michen leaned in, smirking. "You sure you're not worried, boss?"

"Shut up, Michen."

I lingered near the entrance, trying to peer through the boutique's frosted windows. My patience wore thin as minutes ticked by, and I couldn't see Kate anywhere inside. Finally, I pushed the doors open, the scent of expensive perfumes and leather hitting me immediately.

Kate was standing near the counter, her hands trembling as she clutched a delicate dress to her chest. Two saleswomen, their expressions smug and condescending, loomed over her, whispering to each other loudly enough for anyone nearby to hear.

"Sweetie, this isn't a thrift shop," one of them sneered, her blonde hair perfectly styled. "You can't just walk in here and touch whatever you like."

The other, a redhead with a sharp laugh, added, "Seriously, are you lost? This place isn't for... people like you."

Kate's shoulders tensed, her head ducking lower. I could see her fighting back tears, and it made my blood boil.

"I was just going to buy this," Kate said softly, her voice barely audible.

The blonde scoffed, crossing her arms. "With what? Do you even have money, or were you planning to walk out with it?"

Kate reached into her bag and pulled out one of my cards, holding it out shakily. "I was going to pay."

The redhead snatched the card from her hand, examining it with a mocking grin. "Oh, sure, this is yours. Where'd you steal it? It's probably fake."

Kate's voice broke as she said, "I didn't steal it. I—"

"Enough." My voice cut through the room like a whip, and all eyes turned toward me. The two women froze, their smug expressions faltering as they took in my presence.

Kate turned, her tear-streaked face lighting up with a mix of relief and shame. "Lucio..."

I stepped closer, my gaze fixed on the saleswomen. "What's going on here?"

The blonde tried to recover, laughing nervously. "Oh, it's just a misunderstanding. She was acting suspicious, and we—"

"Suspicious?" I said, my tone icy. "You accused her of stealing?"

The redhead stammered, "W-we didn't mean—"

"Save it," I snapped, cutting her off. I took the card from her hand and turned to Kate, placing it back in her trembling fingers. "You don't have to explain anything to these people."

Kate sniffled, clutching the card tightly. "I just wanted to get a dress..."

My jaw clenched as I turned back to the saleswomen. "Call the manager. Now."

The blonde hesitated, glancing at the redhead, before scurrying off. The redhead stayed put, her face pale. "S-sir, we didn't know—"

"You didn't know what?" I asked, my voice dangerously calm. "That she's with me? That's your excuse?"

Before she could answer, a man in a tailored suit appeared, his face pinched with irritation. "What's the problem here?"

"The problem," I said, stepping closer, "is that your employees accused her of theft and treated her like garbage. Is that how you run this place?"

The man's eyes flicked to me, then widened as recognition dawned. "M-Mr. King?"

The room fell silent. The saleswoman's mouth opened and closed like a fish, and the redhead took a step back, her face drained of color.

"Yes, Mr. King," I said coldly. "And you've just lost two employees."

The manager's face turned an impressive shade of white. "Sir, I assure you, this isn't how we normally treat our customers. It's a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding or not," I said, my voice like steel, "these two don't work here anymore. As of right now."

The blonde returned, her face a mix of confusion and fear. "M-manager, what's going on?"

"You're both fired," the manager said quickly, avoiding my gaze. "Leave your uniforms and go."

The women's eyes widened in shock, and they began pleading. "Please, we didn't mean it! We're so sorry!"

"Save it," I snapped. "Apologize to her, not me."

They turned to Kate, stumbling over their apologies, but she didn't look at them. Her focus was on the dress still clutched in her hands.

"I don't want it anymore," she said quietly, setting it down on the counter.

I stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to leave without it."

She shook her head, her voice trembling. "I just want to go home."

I turned back to the manager. "Consider this store under new ownership. You'll hear from my lawyers by the end of the day."

The man nodded furiously, sweat beading on his forehead. "Yes, sir."

Grabbing the bags from Kate's earlier purchases, I led her out of the boutique and into the open air of the mall. The guys were waiting nearby, their laughter fading as they saw the look on my face.

"What happened?" Michen asked, his brows furrowing.

"Nothing you need to worry about," I said curtly, steering Kate toward the exit.

Kate didn't say a word as we walked to the car. She climbed into the passenger seat, staring out the window with her arms wrapped around herself. The silence between us was heavy, filled with things I wanted to say but couldn't find the words for.

As I started the car, I glanced at her, my chest tightening at the sight of her tear-streaked face. "Kate..."

"Don't," she said softly, her voice barely audible. "Just take me home."

I gripped the steering wheel, swallowing my frustration. I didn't know how to make this right, but one thing was clear: no one was ever going to treat her like that again. Not while I was around.

As soon as we stepped into the house, Kate rushed upstairs without a word. Her footsteps echoed through the hall, quick and light, as if she couldn't get away fast enough. She didn't look back, and the sound of her bedroom door shutting firmly sent a wave of guilt washing over me.

The guys watched her retreat, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern.

"What the hell happened out there?" Steven finally asked, breaking the silence.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Some idiots at the boutique decided it was a good idea to accuse her of stealing. She's upset."

Michen frowned. "Accused her? Did they not see you were with her?"

"They didn't care," I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "And they've been dealt with."

Jordan crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "She seemed more than upset, man. She looked... broken."

His words hit harder than I wanted to admit. I hadn't missed the look in her eyes—how she'd shrunk into herself, barely speaking on the drive home.

"I'll talk to her," I said, heading toward the stairs.

"You better," Michen called after me. "She doesn't deserve that."

The hallway outside her room was quiet, the air heavy with tension. I knocked softly, waiting for her to answer. When no sound came, I pushed the door open.

She was sitting on the bed, her knees drawn to her chest and her face buried in her arms. The shopping bags were scattered on the floor, untouched. Her shoulders trembled slightly, and the muffled sound of her sobs hit me like a punch to the gut.

"Kate," I said gently, stepping inside and closing the door behind me.

She didn't look up, didn't acknowledge me. I hesitated for a moment before sitting on the edge of the bed, keeping a small distance between us.

"Kate," I tried again, my voice softer. "I'm sorry. I should have been there sooner."

Her head lifted slightly, her tear-streaked face peeking out from behind her arms. "It's not your fault," she whispered, though her voice was shaky. "It's mine."

I frowned, leaning closer. "What are you talking about? None of this was your fault."

She shook her head, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand. "I shouldn't have gone in there alone. I shouldn't have even tried to buy something so expensive. They were right—I didn't belong there."

My chest tightened at her words, anger bubbling just below the surface—not at her, but at the people who'd made her feel this way.

"That's not true," I said firmly. "You belong wherever you want to be, Kate. No one has the right to tell you otherwise."

She sniffled, her eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before darting away. "You don't understand," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've never had anything new before. Not like this."

Her confession caught me off guard. I stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.

"My mom..." She paused, her hands twisting in her lap. "She never bought me clothes. Not real ones, anyway. Everything I had was second-hand, and I had to save every penny just to get those. I wasn't used to people being kind, and when you told me to pick anything I wanted today, I didn't know how to handle it."

She let out a bitter laugh, though it was tinged with sadness. "I thought I could do it. I thought I could walk in there and pick something out, but when they started laughing at me, it felt like... like I was back there again. Like I was nothing."

Her words hit me like a freight train. I didn't know the full extent of what she'd been through, but hearing even a glimpse of it made my anger flare all over again. I wanted to go back to that boutique and make sure those women understood the pain they'd caused.

"You're not nothing," I said, my voice steadier now. "You're not worthless, and you don't deserve to be treated like you are. Not by anyone."

Her lip quivered, and before I knew it, she was leaning into me, her arms wrapping around my waist as she buried her face against my chest. The unexpected warmth of her touch startled me for a moment, but I didn't hesitate to pull her closer, holding her tightly as she cried.

Her sobs were quiet but raw, each one tugging at something deep inside me. I ran a hand over her back, murmuring soft reassurances, though I wasn't sure if she could hear me.