Bikers forbidden Desire: In love with my brother's best friend

EMILIA POV

The key turned silently in the lock. I wanted to surprise David.

I dropped my suitcase by the door and kicked off my heels. The apartment was quiet except for sounds coming from our bedroom. My heart started racing for all the wrong reasons.

"David?" I called out softly, my voice echoing in the empty hallway.

No answer. Just muffled voices and movement.

I crept down the hallway, each step making my chest tighter. The bedroom door was cracked open. Through the gap, I could see tangled sheets and bare skin that didn't belong to just one person.

My hand trembled as I pushed the door open.

David was in our bed. With Rebecca. My best friend her blonde hair spread across my pillows while she straddled my fiancé.

They both froze when they saw me.

"Surprise," I said, my voice sounding flat and cold.

David scrambled to sit up, pushing Rebecca off him. "Em, this isn't... I can explain..."

"Explain what?" I stepped into the room, crossing my arms over my chest.

Rebecca pulled the sheet up to cover herself, unable to meet my eyes. "Emily, we didn't want you to find out like this."

"How long?" I repeated, my hands clenching into fists.

David ran his hands through his hair. "Six months."

Six months. While I'd been planning our wedding. While I'd been working sixty, hour weeks to pay for the perfect dress, the perfect venue, the perfect life we were supposed to build together.

"Get out," I said to Rebecca, pointing toward the door.

She grabbed her clothes from the floor. "Em, please, let me explain"

"Get out of my apartment. Now." I stepped aside as she dressed quickly.

Rebecca ran past me without another word. The front door slammed behind her.

David wrapped the sheet around his waist and stood up. "Baby, please. It didn't mean anything."

"Don't." I held up my hand, taking a step back. "Don't you dare make this my fault."

"I'm not," he said, moving closer. "I'm just saying we've grown apart. You're always working, always focused on your career"

"So you decided to sleep with my best friend?" I walked to our closet and pulled out my suitcase.

"It was a mistake," David said, following me. "A stupid, meaningless mistake."

"Six months isn't a mistake, David." I started throwing clothes into the suitcase without looking. "It's a choice."

David grabbed my wrist. "Where are you going?"

"Away from you." I yanked my arm free and continued packing.

"Em, come on. We can work through this," he pleaded. "Couples therapy, whatever you want."

I laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You want to know something funny? I actually thought you were perfect, especially for a family."

"What does your family have to do with this?" David asked, confusion crossing his face.

I zipped up the suitcase and faced him. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Because they'd never do this to someone they claimed to love."

David's face darkened. "Your family are criminals, Em. Your father was a thug who"

The slap happened before I could stop myself. My palm stung from the contact with his cheek.

"Don't ever talk about my father," I said quietly, my voice deadly calm.

David touched his reddened cheek. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. You pretend to be this sophisticated city girl, but underneath you're still just a biker's daughter with anger issues."

"You're right." I picked up my suitcase, shouldering my purse. "And you have no idea how lucky you are that I'm not my brother."

I walked to the door, then turned back. "The ring is on the kitchen counter. Don't ever contact me."

"Em, wait" David called out.

The door closed between us with a final click.

I made it to my car before the tears started. Four years. Four years of building this perfect life, this perfect relationship, this perfect lie that I could be someone else.

My phone buzzed. A text from Rebecca: Please talk to me. I'm so sorry.

I deleted it without reading it twice.

Another buzz. David: I love you. Please don't leave like this.

I turned the phone off and started the engine.

I drove to the only place I could think of Sofia's apartment across town. My friend from college who'd stuck by me when I'd tried so hard to reinvent myself. She was the only person in the city who knew where I really came from.

I knocked on her door at eleven PM, probably looking like hell in my wrinkled business suit with mascara streaks on my cheeks.

Sofia opened the door in pajamas, took one look at me, and pulled me inside. "What happened?"

"David was sleeping with Rebecca," I said, letting her guide me to the couch.

Sofia wrapped me in a hug. "That pendejo. I never liked him anyway."

"You never said that." I pulled back to look at her.

"Because you seemed happy," Sofia said, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "But he was boring as shit, Em."

I laughed despite everything. "Six months. They've been together for six months."

Sofia stood up and walked to her kitchen. "His loss. You want wine or tequila?"

"Tequila," I said without hesitation.

Sofia poured two shots and sat back down beside me. "So what now?"

"I don't know." I downed the tequila, welcoming the burn. "I gave up everything for him. My job, my apartment is in both our names, my whole life here."

Sofia leaned forward, studying my face. "You didn't give up everything. You gave up a life that wasn't really  you anyway."

I looked at her, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, Em," Sofia said, her voice gentle. "I've known you for six years. The real you comes out when you're angry, when you're passionate about something. The rest of the time you're playing dress, up."

Before I could answer, my phone started ringing. I'd turned it back on out of habit.

Unknown number. Area code 760.

Home.

My blood turned to ice. Nobody from Desert Ridge ever called me. Marco and I barely talked, and Dad... Dad didn't believe in phones for personal calls.

Sofia watched my face change. "Answer it."

My hands shook as I swiped to answer. "Hello?"

"Em?" Marco's voice was rough. "Em, you need to come home."

My stomach dropped to the floor. "What's wrong?"

"Dad's dead," Marco said. "The Reapers got him. They shot up the clubhouse last night."

The phone slipped from my fingers but Sofia caught it before it hit the ground.

"Em? Em, are you there?" Marco's voice called from the speaker.

Sofia held the phone to my ear, her other hand gripping my shoulder. "I'm here."

"I'm sorry, baby sister," Marco continued. "I know you two didn't talk much after you left, but"

"How?" My voice was barely a whisper.

Marco's voice cracked. "Three bullets to the chest. He was leaving Mama C's house when they jumped him."

The world tilted sideways. My father. Vincent Romano. The man who'd taught me to ride a bike, who'd scared away every boy who looked at me wrong, who'd let me leave for college even though it broke his heart.

Gone.

"Em, I need you to come home," Marco said. "The funeral's in three days, and with the war starting"

"War?" I found my voice.

"The Reapers think they can take our territory now that Dad's gone," Marco said, his voice turning cold. "They're wrong. But I need my family here. I need you here."

I closed my eyes. "Marco, I can't. I don't belong in that world anymore."

"You're a Romano," Marco said firmly. "That blood doesn't wash off, no matter how many suits you wear."

Sofia squeezed my shoulder, nodding encouragingly.

"Okay," I whispered. "Okay, I'll come home."

"Good. And Em..." Marco's voice got quiet. "Axel's back. He's coming to get you."

The phone went dead in my hands.