The Mafia’s Forbidden Desire

ROSALINDA.© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

A knock sounded on my bedroom door, and before I could grant permission to whoever it was, the door swung open, and Antonio slipped inside.

I wasn’t in any way surprised when I saw him. It wasn’t his first time sneaking into my room, anyway.

“You shouldn’t be in here.” I stated, closing the book in my hand and lazily sitting up from the bed.

Ignoring my statement, he leaned on the door, gazing at me menacingly as he folded his arms across his chest. “I can see that you enjoy the company of that guy. What’s his name again? Liam? What were you discussing with him?”

“It’s none of your business.” I hissed, shrugging.

“It is my business!” He retorted firmly.

“Why do you make everything your business?” I challenged, jumping to my feet and closing the distance between us. “Sofia is your fiancé, and you never meddle in her business, but mine. When last did you even converse with her? Yet, here you are, in my room, talking about sh*t that doesn’t concern you.”

I had been allowing myself to get too close to him, and I needed to let that end. I promised Sofia that I wouldn’t give into the temptation, and to do that, I had to stop fueling the connection we have by pushing him away.

“You very well know that you’re my business because you are my-”

“Sister in law?!” I completed the sentence, cutting him off. “Oh, cut that bullshit. I had hoped my father would break off whatever deal he has with you after learning of your atrocities.”

“Oh, well. Newsflash. He didn’t. You know why? Because he knew I was trying to find out the information you have refused to reveal to anyone.” He fired back annoyingly.

“Why exactly do you want to know who Carlo’s father is?” I questioned him, hoping to get a reasonable answer from him this time. He had been trying to look for Carlo’s father without expressing his true intentions. I was fed up with hearing his false reasons about me being his sister-in-law.

I was his sister-in-law, not his fiancé, and definitely not his responsibility. I was tired of everyone asking me who Carlo’s father was when I had no answer to their fucking questions.

“Why is it so hard for you to tell everyone who his father is?” He countered, his frown deepening.

He was getting on my nerves. In fact, he was stepping infuriatingly on my nerves, and the anger rising within me was so rapid that it made my entire being burn.

“I can’t reveal who the father is because I can’t just tell everyone that I’m such a whore!” I flared up.

“How are-”

I furiously hoisted my hand, my palm facing outward, motioning for him to let me continue. I wasn’t done!

“Three years ago, April 14th, to be specific. I went to a masked house party, and I was dared to fuck one of the attendees. I was so drunk to the point that I didn’t know what I was doing, and I instantly agreed. We went to one of the rooms, had a quick, hot, and unprotected sex. Guess what? I enjoyed it! The first thing he did when we got to the room was position me on a sofa and fuck me from behind. His strokes were so fast, so deep, and so enjoyable. Do you know what I said to him after he was done? ‘Thank you.’ And just so you know, Carlo was the result of the most sensational sex I had ever had in my entire life!” I blabbed out in one breath, divulging every detail as I let the anger burning within me control me.

“You guessed right, Antonio; we were all masked, so I didn’t know who the stranger was!” I rattled on after blowing out a sharp breath. “I fucking don’t know who the father of my son is! I kept that a secret from my family because it was shameful. Go ahead and call me a dirty, stupid whore. Because that is who I fucking am!”

…

ANTONIO.

No, this can’t be! I thought as I involuntarily staggered, her confession taking me aback. The room suddenly closed in, and it became really difficult to breathe.

On April 14th, three years ago, I was also at a masked party that Marco took me to. I had lost my only brother a week before that, and I was drowning in sorrow, unable to function well. To help me lighten my mood, Marco took me to a masked party, which was out of the norm for me, but I agreed to go with him because I wanted to momentarily get over the grief that was weighing on me.

At the party, I was dared to fuck a girl while I was drunk to stupor, and I did.

Driven by alcohol, I forgot what protection was and burst my nuts inside her. The same experience Rosalinda narrated was the same experience I had with the girl. It was the sweetest and, inarguably, the best sex of my life. Even though I was drunk when it happened, I could never forget how satisfying it was.

The thought of Rosalinda being the woman I fucked that night was threatening to drive me crazy.

No. It can’t be. It can’t be! She really can’t be the one I fucked.

There were also other people who were dared to have sex at that party. There was a possibility that she had that sex with someone else and not me. Perhaps it wasn’t even the same party.

But, fuck! It was the same fucking day.

“Say something! You wanted to know the truth. Now, you know!” She yelled, cutting through my torrents of thoughts.

If only she knew what I was thinking about. If only she knew how complicated and possibly disastrous my suspicions were.

If only she knew!

Albeit, there was a possibility that I wasn’t the one who she had sex with, but based on her narration, the chances weighed heavily on my side.