
Conquered by the Moretti Twins.
Williane Kassia · Completed · 112.0k Words
Introduction
What was supposed to be a simple visit to his parents' family of friends quickly turns into a nightmare for Enzo. Upon arriving in Italy, he encounters a pair of enigmatic and insufferable twins who seem to have a special talent for annoying him. These two youngsters, who have an uncanny ability to challenge his cold façade and provoke his greatest discomforts, become a constant presence in his life.
Will Enzo allow himself to be loved?
Chapter 1
Warning: This book contains themes of gay romance. The story focuses on young people and their relationships, exploring emotional and romantic aspects.
Notice: If there are any errors in the book, I apologize. I am still learning to speak English and am doing my best. I hope you enjoy the read!
Enzo D'Angelo.
''Why did we suddenly decide to travel like this?'' I ask, looking away from the window at my parents in the car.
''I've already explained, darling. We're going for the birthday of a family friend's children,'' my mother replies, remaining as calm as usual.
''I understand that, Mom. What doesn't make sense to me is why I have to go along,'' I say, crossing my arms in protest.
''Of course you had to come, Enzo. Your brother and brother-in-law are in the other car too,'' my mother adds, and I turn to look out the back window, seeing their car just behind ours.
“I might as well have stayed at home on my own,” I grumble as I close my face. Their response is a collective laugh that irritates me even more. ''I don't see how that's funny.
“Do you really think we'd leave you home alone?” my mother asks, a discreet smile on her face, while I let out an exasperated sigh.
''I only set fire to the sofa once, and I didn't mean to. Nothing bad was going to happen,” I mutter, still sulking.
“To this day, I wonder how you managed to do that,” comments my father, Dante, without taking his eyes off the road.
It's better he doesn't know. But he wouldn't believe me if I said it was an accident.
“And why are we leaving two days before the anniversary?” I continue, trying to understand the logic behind the decision. ''We could have traveled on the right day.
'' Enzo, nobody arrives at a birthday on the exact day, especially when we're staying for a while. We had to come earlier to settle in,'' my mother explains patiently. I let out a heavy sigh, trying to hide my frustration.
I decide to ignore the chatter around me and concentrate on the landscape that passes quickly by the window. The trees, houses, and roads look like blurs, but this distraction is better than thinking about the discomfort I'm feeling. The idea of spending days away from home, especially without the company of my python, bothers me deeply. When I got home after the last day of school, I was surprised by the news that we were going to Italy the next day. I had no choice; I was practically dragged into this trip that I didn't want to take.
I've left enough food for my python, but that doesn't ease my worries. My stomach churns at the thought of it being left without proper care, even temporarily. I hate being around people I don't know, and the thought of having to interact with strangers is disturbing. Worse still, I hate any kind of unwanted physical contact. I get goosebumps just thinking about it.
As I continue to stare out of the window, my thoughts wander to another issue. My parents are involved in illegal business, something that has always been in the air but has never been discussed openly. Apparently, this friend we're visiting is a very famous mafioso from Italy. I've heard of him a few times in whispered conversations between my parents, but I've never cared about any of it. To me, it's just another part of the chaotic life they've chosen, which inevitably drags me along with it. I don't see the point in trying to understand or get involved any more than I have to. I just want this trip to end soon so I can get back home and back to my routine, where I feel safe and in control.
Furthermore, I look away from the window and observe my parents in the car for a moment. My mother, a beautiful woman of about 45, has always been the center of attention wherever she goes. She has long brown hair, which falls softly over her shoulders, and her green eyes are incredibly expressive, capable of conveying both sweetness and firmness. Her skin is clear and well cared for, with few wrinkles, the result of a life of privilege and constant care. She always dresses impeccably, preferring clothes that highlight her natural elegance but don't draw too much attention to herself. Despite her quiet appearance, I know that she is a strong and determined woman, used to dealing with difficult situations without losing her composure.
Next to her is my father, Dante. He's 48, but he looks younger, perhaps because of the way he keeps fit and always seems to be one step ahead of everyone else. His hair is dark, with a few gray strands that only accentuate his air of authority and experience. His eyes are a deep brown, almost black, and he rarely lets his emotions show. He is a man of few words, but his presence is striking, dominating the atmosphere even when he is silent. His features are firm, with a square jaw and an athletic build that make it clear that he is not someone to be trifled with. He always wears dark clothes, in shades of black or gray, matching his reserved and mysterious personality.
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