Chapter 43 A New Beginning
A NEW BEGINNING
LILY
Enzo doesn’t have a house. He has a freaking mansion.
He stays quiet about his home, offering barely a word the entire flight. I figure it’s just a modest place on the outskirts of the city, nothing too flashy. From the little he does mention, I piece together that it’s in a ritzy neighborhood, chosen for its top-notch school district for his sister.
But when we pull up to a set of towering gates that part to reveal a sprawling estate, I realize I’ve seriously underestimated him.
The mansion sits on several acres of manicured lawn, complete with a grand fountain in front and ivy creeping up its stone walls, giving it an air of old-world charm despite its sleek, modern lines.
“Welcome to Casa de Enzo,” he says with a smirk, swinging open the massive front doors like he’s been waiting this entire time to deliver the line.
Inside, the polished hardwood floors gleam under soft chandelier light, and the ceilings soar high enough to make me feel dizzy. The whole place screams luxury, yet there’s a warmth to it—an energy that makes it feel less like a showpiece and more like a home.
I laugh, shaking my head at the absurdity of it all. “You were holding out on us this whole time?”
Enzo shrugs and smirks. “I answered all the questions you asked.”
Technically he did, but still. I did not expect… this.
Dylan whistles low. “Man, I could get used to this. Got a room with a view for me?”
“Make yourself at home,” Enzo says, waving his hand dismissively. “But don’t touch my bourbon collection.”
I spin around, my eyes scanning over everything around me. I knew Electric Wounds was successful, but this? This is on an entirely different level. I never imagined anything close to the massive house and grounds Enzo actually owns.
Before I can fully take process my surroundings, we’re interrupted by the pitter-patter of small feet. Sofia, Enzo’s eight-year-old sister, comes barreling down the staircase, her black hair bouncing as she races toward him.
“Enzo!” she squeals, throwing her arms around his neck. He catches her with ease, his tough exterior softening instantly as he hugs her tight.
“Hey, squirt,” he says, ruffling her hair. “Miss me?”
Her emphatic nod is almost comical. “Is this your band?” she asks, her wide-eyed gaze darting toward the rest of us.
“Yeah, this is them,” Enzo says, setting her back on the floor. He steps closer to me, slinging an arm around my waist. “And this is my girlfriend, Lily.”
The word girlfriend makes my cheeks heat, but I can’t help smiling as Sofia’s face lights up. She grins up at me, then her eyes shift to the side, landing on Jax. Her expression changes in an instant—pure awe replacing her excitement.
“You’re Jax!” she exclaims, bouncing on her toes like she might burst. “You’re my favorite! I know all the words to your songs!”
Jax chuckles, crouching down so he’s at eye level with her. “Well, aren’t you full of compliments? Thanks, Sofia. Do you have a favorite song?”
She nods so enthusiastically it looks like her head might fall off. “All of them!”
He laughs, clearly charmed, as she starts talking a mile a minute, telling him about the videos she’s seen online and how she’s begged Enzo to let her come to a concert.
“You’ve got great taste,” Jax says with a warm grin, glancing at Enzo. “Seems like she knows the true star of the show is.”
“She has questionable taste,” Enzo jokes, a soft smile tugging at his lips.
Sofia suddenly twists toward me, her expression hopeful. “Can you brush my hair?” she asks, her big brown eyes wide and pleading. “Enzo’s terrible at it.”
I laugh, glancing at Enzo, who raises his hands in mock defeat. “She’s not wrong,” he says with a smirk.
“Of course,” I reply, reaching for her hand. She grabs it eagerly, pulling me down the hall. “Lead the way, Sofia.”
As we head toward her room, I hear Marcus mutter to Jax, “Man, we’ve got competition. She’s stealing the spotlight already.”
“She’s welcome to share it. We can add her to the schedule,” Jax replies, his voice light but affectionate.
Their laughter follows us down the hallway as Sofia chatters away about her favorite hairstyles. When we step into her cozy room—filled with stuffed animals and books—I realize just how special this moment is.
Enzo is letting me in, completely, and deeply in a way that feels significant. His sister and his home are clearly sacred to him, and the fact that he’s trusting me with both speaks volumes.
Within minutes, Sofia has me wrapped around her little finger, showing me her favorite parts of her room and chattering excitedly about her latest school project. She chats with me until her nanny comes to prepare her for bed and makes me promise to spend more time with her tomorrow.
Once Sofia’s occupied, I regroup with the guys, finding them in a soundproofed studio in the basement. The space is impressive—top-tier instruments, a full recording setup, and a sleek control panel behind a glass pane. It’s clear Enzo doesn’t do anything halfway.
“Girlfriend, huh?” I ask as I step inside, glancing at Enzo with a raised brow. “That feels like news.”
Enzo smirks, quirking an eyebrow back at me. “Was I wrong?”
“Hmm, feels like something we maybe should’ve discussed,” I counter, crossing my arms with mock seriousness.
“Good point,” Dylan chimes in, his grin widening. “Lily, can you give us a minute?” He gestures dramatically, pulling the guys into the far corner of the room. They huddle together, whispering conspiratorially while stealing glances in my direction.
I watch them with barely concealed amusement as they turn back around as a group. Marcus steps forward, his expression is overly serious, but his eyes gleam with mischief.
“Lily,” he begins, his voice mock-formal, “as a representative for all of us, I would like to formally ask: Will you be our girlfriend?”
“All of you?” I ask, biting back a laugh at their theatrics.
Marcus glances over his shoulder at the others. Dylan is grinning ear-to-ear. Enzo’s smirk deepens, and Jax, as usual, looks slightly annoyed. He gestures sharply, like he’s silently asking why Marcus is making such a big production out of something they’ve clearly already agreed on.
Turning back to me, Marcus nods solemnly. “Yes. All of us. Together.”
“What would happen if I said no?” I ask, narrowing my eyes playfully. “Or if I said yes to some, but no to others?”
Jax speaks up before Marcus can respond, his voice steady and serious. “We’d respect your decision, no matter what it is.”
“Ah,” I say, tapping my fingers along my chin like I’m deep in thought. “Well, in that case... I’d like to say yes. To all of you.”
Before I can blink, Dylan lets out a loud whoop and lifts me off the ground, spinning me in a circle.
The guys cheer as I’m passed around like some kind of trophy, each offering a kiss—a soft peck on the cheek from Marcus, a playful smooch on the forehead from Dylan, a lingering kiss on the temple from Jax, and finally, a searing kiss on the lips from Enzo.
My feet finally touch the ground, my cheeks warm, my heart full.
Enzo snorts, shaking his head. “Now that we’re done with that.” He leans forward, his tone softening just enough to catch my attention. “Isn’t it time for Intoxicating Hearts to make an album?”
The words hang in the air, heavy and full of possibility.
Jax straightens in his seat, his brows furrowing. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious,” Enzo replies, his gaze steady. “We’ve got the songs. We’ve got the talent. What are we waiting for?”
Marcus sets his fork down, his expression contemplative. “An album. No label. Just us.”
“It sounds... freeing,” I say, the idea sparking something deep inside me.
“It sounds risky as hell,” Dylan adds, though his grin betrays his excitement. “But I’m in.”
The energy shifts as we all exchange glances, unspoken agreement passing between us. This is what we need—a new chapter, a chance to create without constraints.
“Then it’s settled,” Enzo says, clapping his hands together. “Let’s make something real.”
Later that night, as we sprawl across Enzo’s massive freaking bed in our usual pile of blankets and limbs, the spark of excitement lingers.
Lying beside me, Jax glances up at the ceiling, his voice barely above a whisper. “You think we can pull it off?”
I turn to face him, my hand finding his. “I know we can.”
And as the first notes of a new beginning take shape in my mind, I realize that I’m not afraid of what’s next.
The end of Electric Wounds isn’t the end of anything at all. It’s just the beginning of something even better.