Our Forbidden Desire

Prologue

My father Alex Dawson went bankrupt before he died. After he died, my mom, and I, Kylie were left with a lot of debt that my dad owed. My older sister Emma went to study in Italy a long time before this.

My mom got married again to a rich businessman named Anthony Brentford. He paid off all the debt my father owed. Then we moved into Anthony's big house in Los Angeles. His first wife died already. He has one son named Tristan Brentford who was studying abroad. Neither I nor my mom have met Tristan.

CHAPTER ONE

One evening, my mom came into my room and gave me a checkbook. "I need you to take this to the bank," she said. I replied, "Why don't you use online banking? I told you that before." She said, "It is better to do it in person at the bank. A computer can't send money to Italy."

I asked, "You're sending money to Emma?" My mom said, "Send her what's in the checkbook." I yelled, "All of this money? Why? Is Emma okay?" My mom said, "Your sister is getting married." I yelled again, "What? She's getting married?" Then I said more quietly, "Mom, I want to go to her wedding. I'll give her the money myself."

My mom was quiet. I said, "Don't worry Mom, I'll make sure Emma gets the money. Someone from our family should be there to congratulate her." My mom nodded but I could tell she did not want me to go.

I landed in Italy by myself. No one was there to pick me up at the airport. I did not know much Italian, but I wrote down how to say things like asking for a taxi. I practiced them over and over again.

I took a taxi through the beautiful city of Rome to get to Emma's address. When I got there, I rang the doorbell. Someone shouted something in Italian. I said in English, "Emma? It's me, Kylie."

A strange Italian girl I did not know opened the door. She said, "Who?" I said, "Isn't this Emma's place?" The girl called a guy over. He must own the house because he said angrily, "Who is it?"

When he saw me, the guy said my name, "Kylie?"

I went inside the messy house. There were empty whiskey bottles everywhere. The TV was broken and pictures were knocked off the walls onto the floor. It looked like there had been a fight.

I asked the guy, "Are you Emma's husband?"

He made a weird face and said, "Her husband? We just live together."

I was confused. I said, "You live together? I thought you were getting married."

He said while sitting down, "Married? Why would I marry Emma?"

I did not understand what was happening. I asked, "Where is the university Emma goes to?"

He said, "University? She doesn't go to school."

I yelled, "What!? She lied about going to school too?" Angrily I said, "Where is that liar Emma?"

The guy gave me the address for a restaurant by the beach where Emma worked. I stood far away and watched her for a while. When she saw me, Emma ran over calling my name.

She said, "What are you doing here? How's Mom? Did you leave her all alone?"

I said in a mean way, "You want to ask about Mom? You don't deserve to ask about her."

Emma said calmly, "When did you get here? You should have called."

I said, "Should I have? So you could lie to me more?" Angrily I said, "You said you were in university! Is this what you call a university?"

We had a big fight. Emma grabbed my suitcase and threw all my clothes out to get my checkbook. She took the money and ran off.

I cried while picking up all my clothes to put back in my suitcase. A guy walked over and kindly asked in Italian if I was okay. I said back in my basic Italian, "I'm okay...thank you."

But then he grabbed my bag of bean powder and ran off! He thought it was drugs. I chased after him. While we were fighting over the bag, the powder spilled out. The guy sniffed some up his nose by accident and was shocked.

Another guy came over to help. This new guy was American. He was tall and cute with piercing blue eyes. I thought he looked like a movie star. He called 911. The first guy was taken away in an ambulance.

The handsome American guy and I were left at the hospital with a doctor who said things in Italian I did not understand. After the doctor left, I asked the American guy, "Will your friend be okay?"

He angrily said, "Why did you have that powder on you anyway?"

I said, "Are you mad at me? Your friend stole from me! And he was the one who..."

The guy cut me off, "He was just drunk. If he did drugs, he would have known it wasn't drugs."

I said in an annoyed tone, "So this is my fault? I'm the one most freaked out here! And now I lost my phone too."

He said seriously, "Well I'm the one most annoyed here." Then he left.

Later a policeman came and held up my bag of bean powder, saying something in Italian. I did not know what to say. The policeman took me to the police station.

I said haltingly in my bad Italian, "It's just food...bean powder...not drugs."

The policeman said clearly in English, "We need to investigate. Do people normally eat through their noses? What is your address?"

I stammered, "I...I'm from...America."

He said, "American? Let me see your passport..."

I showed him. He started saying things I didn't understand in Italian again. I was scared. I thought, "I'm going to end up stuck in an Italian jail cell."

Suddenly, someone hugged me from behind. It was the American guy from before.

He said, "It's okay baby."

I was startled but so relieved.

The policeman said, "Tristan? Long time no see... Of course, you're involved in this." He sounded disappointed.

Tristan said unhappily, "Whatever. That powder's not drugs anyway. You know that."

The policeman said, "Even if I think it's not drugs, now that you're involved, I can't think that way. Right?"

Tristan and I sighed.

The policeman kept my passport. He said to me, "Don't try to run away." Then he left.