The Price Of His Desire

The Brother

“Why did you accept to become his wife? He never mentioned you to me, which means you don’t know him either,” Alfonso’s mother asked when she invited me to her room after dinner.

An awkward moment I would rather not relive.

I tried my best to hold myself together, just as Sarah had told me to. As long as I followed her advice, she wouldn’t suspect anything.

“We’ve known each other for a while,” I said softly, keeping my tone calm and steady.

She didn’t look convinced. “I know my son very well. I know how he is with women.”

She paused, studying me closely, the tension between us growing heavier. From just a few words, I could already tell she didn’t like me.

“Being one of those desperate girls who go to extremes to get what they want,” she continued sharply. “How much did he pay you?”

Her words sliced through me, cold and full of contempt.

“It’s not what—” I tried to speak, but she raised her hand to silence me.

“Save your stories,” she said flatly.

“I don’t know why my son brought you here, and I don’t care to know. But understand this and find peace with it. Stay far away from my family’s business. It has nothing to do with you. And I do not accept you as family.”

Her voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. She stood, walked to the door, and opened it, gesturing for me to leave.

“Get out.”

Her words cut deep. She didn’t even give me the chance to explain myself. She hated me for something she didn’t understand. I looked at her one last time, pain rising in my chest, and stepped out.

For the first time in weeks, I felt broken. Everything that had happened since Alfonso came into my life hadn’t hurt this much. But standing under the shower that night, her words echoed until tears streamed down my face.

It had only been a day since I arrived here, and already I wanted to leave. If his mother despised me this much, what else was waiting? The quiet stares I had noticed at dinner suddenly made sense.

I got out of the shower, put on my nightgown, and lay on the bed. I hadn’t seen Alfonso since the meeting. He hadn’t even shown up for dinner.

I tried calling Aria, but she didn’t answer. I tried Collins too. Nothing.

The silence filled the room until it became unbearable. I cried quietly, letting the tears soak into my pillow until exhaustion pulled me into sleep.

When I woke, I heard the sound of running water and saw Alfonso stepping out of the shower, half-naked, a towel hanging low on his hips. My tired eyes followed the lines of his body before I could stop myself. The deep V on his lower abdomen made my stomach flutter with something I didn’t understand.

I didn’t even realize how long I had been staring until he caught me. A small smirk curved his lips before he disappeared into the closet.

I sat up quickly, the words I had been holding in finally rising to my throat. The memory of his mother’s cruel tone came back like a fresh wound, making my eyes sting.

“Why?” I said softly, my voice trembling.

He paused and looked over his shoulder, his expression blank.

“Why did you give me that contract?” I asked again, this time louder, frustration slipping through.

He looked at me for a moment, then continued dressing as if he hadn’t heard me. The silence only made my heart beat faster.

“What makes you think you can raise your voice at me?” His tone was sharp, commanding, as he stepped closer.

I flinched slightly but didn’t move away.

“You will serve the purpose I brought you here for,” he said coldly. “If you don’t understand that, read the contract again.”

His hand reached out, gripping my arm firmly, not painfully, but enough to make my heart race. Tears filled my eyes at how cold he sounded. His grip softened a little when he noticed.

“Why did you choose me of all people?” I whispered, looking up at him.

His lips curved faintly. “Why not? You and your sister owe me,” he said quietly.

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing with something between amusement and cruelty. “Or maybe it’s because you looked easy to control.”

He lifted his hand to my neck, his touch light but sure, pulling me closer until our faces were only inches apart. His breath brushed against my skin, his scent flooding my senses. My body reacted to his nearness before my mind could catch up.

“Diana,” he said in a low voice, “just do your part of the contract without questions and we’re good, okay?”

He brushed his lips against my cheek, soft and brief, but enough to make my pulse race.

“f**k… if you keep looking at me with those eyes, I don’t know how long I’ll wait to f**k you,” he murmured, his voice rough and deep. My stomach twisted, my breath catching. The sound of his voice alone sent a heat through me I couldn’t explain.

His hand slid from my face down to my waist, squeezing gently. I gasped, my body trembling, betraying every ounce of control I thought I had.

“Don’t test me,” he whispered. “If you disobey me, you’ll be screaming my name.”

Then he turned and walked back into the closet, leaving me standing there, confused, breathless, and aching in ways I didn’t understand.

The day passed slowly after that. I tried to stay out of Mrs. Del Lisi’s way, and thankfully she left early, leaving me with only the house staff. Sarah had gone out even earlier, saying she needed to handle business.

Before she left, I asked her about continuing my courses online. She smiled and said she would look into it, but I wasn’t sure if she actually would.

Later, I sat in the living room, hoping for some fresh air, but the atmosphere felt heavy. The workers kept glancing my way, whispering to each other. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but I knew it was about me.

One of them had even given me a disgusted look earlier when she brought my breakfast. It wasn’t curiosity in their eyes. It was judgment.

Then I heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway.

“Signor Paulo,” one of the maids said as she peeked through the window, her tone full of excitement and respect. Almost immediately, a few of them rushed outside.

Curious, I stood and looked through the window.

That was when I saw him. He stepped out of the car with a little girl in his arms, no older than five, her head resting sleepily against his shoulder. A frail, older woman followed behind him.

They came through the door, and I quickly sat back on the couch, pretending to focus on the TV. When I turned, I saw them walk in, and our eyes met. The resemblance was clear. Alfonso’s brother.

He looked at me, curiosity flickering in his gaze. “Ciao.”

I knew what that meant, but I was too embarrassed to answer.

The older woman said something in Italian as she approached me, and I stood quickly to greet her. She pulled me into a soft hug.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand Italian,” I said, and both of them laughed.

“I said you must be Alfonso’s wife,” she repeated in broken English, her accent thick but warm. “I’m his grandmother, and this is my other grandson, Paulo.”

Paulo extended his hand to greet me. “Diana,” I said, taking it.

His eyes brightened as I smiled. He looked so much like Alfonso. The same sharp features, the same quiet intensity.

And that was how I found out Alfonso had a brother.