My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 99: Clothes Have Aura

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Adrien stood there, his back slightly turned to his father. The words Keith had just spoken hung in the air like stubborn dust. A twist of emotions danced in his chest...guilt, frustration, longing. Such a tangled mix he often struggled to tell one from the other. Taking a slow breath, he finally turned to Keith again, though his gaze didn’t quite meet his father’s eyes.

"I get it," Adrien said softly, his voice steady yet heavy. "I’m not... angry about it anymore. Not like I used to be." He paused, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I just... had a lot going on back then. Things I couldn’t explain to anyone."

Keith raised an eyebrow gently. "I know."

Adrien let out a quiet laugh that lacked any real humor. "Yeah, well... I was a dick. Especially when you first married Helen. I didn’t make things easy for you." His gaze dropped to the floor again. "So... I’m sorry. For all of that."

His apology felt clumsy and rushed, like he wasn’t quite sure how to say what he needed to say, but Keith didn’t seem bothered. A soft smile spread across his father’s face, almost relieved, and he nodded in acknowledgment.

"I forgave you a long time ago," Keith replied gently. "I never held it against you."

Adrien shifted his weight, trying to hide the twinge of discomfort that followed those words. If only Keith knew the real reason why he had disliked the remarriage so much.

Noah.

Sweet, quiet Noah. Becoming his stepbrother had put up an unmovable wall between him and the feelings he desperately tried to bury. And the guilt that came with those feelings only made things worse.

But that was a truth he could never voice.

Keith stepped closer to his desk, clearing his throat before diving back into the pile of papers. "Since we’re being open here," he said, shifting to a more practical yet hopeful tone, "I wanted to ask you something."

Adrien looked up, wary. "What is it?"

"The gala," Keith said, glancing over a folder. "The end-of-year one. You haven’t been since your mom passed, and I didn’t want to push it, but... I’d really like you to come this year."

Adrien blinked, taken aback. "You want me there?"

"Absolutely," Keith answered without skipping a beat. "It matters. Not just socially, but for you. You should see how the company operates now, how the events run, how we engage with partners and investors. One day, this will all be yours to manage."

He gestured broadly to the office, the house, the expansive empire beyond. "It wouldn’t hurt to reconnect with that world."

Adrien’s stomach tightened at the thought. He had spent years steering clear of anything linked to Fell Corporations, not out of rebellion, but because stepping into those spaces felt like stepping into a life he wasn’t ready to inherit, a life he wasn’t even sure he wanted.

He swallowed. "I’ll... think about it."

Keith nodded, seemingly pleased even with that small agreement. "That’s all I ask." He paused before adding, "It would mean a lot to me."

Adrien didn’t know how to respond. The weight of the room, all the emotions he had brought with him, and the unexpected conversation pressed in on him until it felt too close, too warm, too heavy to hold.

He took a step back and cleared his throat. "I should get going. Noah’s probably around somewhere."

Keith gave him a gentle, almost grateful smile. "Alright. And Adrien... my door’s always open."

Adrien nodded once before turning to leave. The hallway outside felt cooler, quieter, easier to breathe in. But the conversation trailed behind him, heavy in his mind, echoing all the way down the corridor.

Noah’s POV

Meanwhile, across town, the mall buzzed like its own little universe filled with early-evening chatter, glowing under festive lights, and carrying the sweet, warm scent of cinnamon pretzels wafting through every time someone opened the food court doors.

Gigi marched ahead, her determination evident as she stormed through one boutique after another, more like a warrior preparing for battle than a girl just trying to pick a winter ball dress. She dragged Skylar, Ethan, and me along, moving from rack to rack like the perfect dress was hiding just out of sight.

Gigi held up a short, shimmering blue dress, studied it like it was a precious artifact, and then put it back with a sigh straight from her soul. "Nope. Too sparkly. I’d look like a disco ball in this. Not happening."

Skylar, already struggling with the pile of dresses Gigi had dismissed, let out an exasperated groan. "Gigi, come on! They all look amazing on you. Literally every dress you’ve tried on since school ended would work. Even the purple one you tossed aside like it offended you."

"The purple one did offend me," Gigi shot back, completely serious. "It just didn’t feel right. The aura was off."

Ethan, leaning against a display with the kind of patience only someone accustomed to this could muster, raised an eyebrow. "How does a dress have an aura?"

"Everything has an aura," Gigi replied, sounding like she was sharing age-old wisdom. "But you wouldn’t get it. You have the fashion sensitivity of a potato, just like all guys do."

Ethan clutched his chest as if wounded. "Ouch. That’s brutal."

I couldn’t help but chuckle quietly. I’d been trying to be supportive all afternoon, but honestly, I was starting to feel drained as Gigi rejected what had to be her eighth dress in thirty minutes.

Skylar finally reached the end of her rope. "Gigi, I swear, you’ve tried on enough dresses to fill a boutique. Just pick one already! You looked stunning in all of them." She gestured to the sleek black dress she picked hours ago. "Look at me. I’m done. I’m ready. We could’ve left an hour ago."

Gigi waved her off, as if Skylar’s perfectly reasonable point was totally irrelevant. "Sky, sweetie, you’re a goddess in that dress, but this is about me. I need something impactful. Something bold. Something that screams Gigi. And nothing here is making that noise. They’re all just whispering. Politely."

Skylar plopped down on the dressing-room bench, looking like she might cry or fall asleep any minute. "I’m begging you. Pick something before the mall closes and I start screaming."

But Gigi had already shifted her focus. Her eyes landed on a store across the walkway where dresses sparkled under bright lights. Suddenly, she was all fired up again. "Wait, that store! I haven’t tried anything from there!"

Skylar covered her face in despair. "Oh my god..."

Gigi clapped her hands, re-energized, and turned to Ethan and me. "Okay! New mission: you two go find your winter ball tuxedos. And don’t you dare come back with something boring like black. Be stylish. Be daring. Be fabulous!"

Ethan blinked. "Why are we banned from black?"

"Because black is the ’I gave up’ color," Gigi proclaimed. "And you two are not giving up today." She yanked Skylar’s wrist like a soldier rescuing a comrade. "Go. Explore. Spend. Surprise me."

A warm flush crept up my cheeks. "Gigi, I don’t even know what colors look good on me—"

"Everything looks good on you," she insisted, as if that was simply a fact I should have known forever. "Now go. Shine. Do not let me down."

Before we could argue, she was already dragging a resigned Skylar toward the new store. Skylar stumbled after her, throwing us a desperate look over her shoulder. "Save yourselves! Don’t wait for us!"

Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. Then he turned to me, wearing that relaxed expression I had come to expect from him. "Well... looks like it’s just the two of us now."

I let out a long breath, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Come on," I said, adjusting my bagpack strap. "Before Gigi comes back and sweeps us into a whirlwind."