The Vanishing Fiancée — The Forbidden Brother

In private, I never called him Luca. I called him brother, or when he pressed me too hard, I blushed and said his name the way he I avoided his gaze. It's my period.

He stared at me, as if trying to decide whether I was lying. At last, he pulled me back into his arms, his voice a little softer. Fine, I won't touch you tonight. Sleep. He said it as if that was the greatest mercy in the world.

I lay in his arms and listened as his breathing slowly evened out, but I couldn't sleep at all. At 12, I came to the estate. At 14, I called him brother. At 18, he found my diary and kissed me for the first time.