Siciliano Brothers
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Heather Teston
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226K
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35
"Lucifer, what are you doing here?"
"Iris, when I got the invitation to your wedding, I had to come. I can't believe you are marrying my brother. I know you don't love him, so I'm here to stop you."
Michael and Lucifer may look alike, but everything about them clashes—light versus dark, sweet versus dangerous, protector versus destroyer. And in the middle stands Iris, torn between the twin she once thought she knew and the one who has haunted her ever since he left for Italy. Now Lucifer is back, reckless and relentless, determined to stop her from marrying his brother and willing to risk everything to win her. But Michael won’t step aside so easily, and secrets run deeper than Iris could ever imagine. Desire blurs into danger, temptation becomes a trap, and one wrong choice could spark a war between the men who would do anything to claim her heart.
1: Chapter 1
THE BEGINNING
Twenty-six years ago, Anna Siciliano gave birth to twin boys. It happened late at night in her bedroom with a midwife in attendance, her husband Ezio by her side.
The first baby came quickly, which was an easy birth for Anna. Beaming with pride, Ezio held the baby up and declared his name Michael.
His twin, born an hour later, was a more difficult birth for Anna. By that time, she was becoming weak and frail.
One minute before midnight, rain poured down, and thunder rattled the windows. The second baby was born.
All went quiet as the antique grandfather clock outside the bedroom struck midnight.
Not even the second baby cried as Ezio looked down at the child lying in Anna’s arms. The baby’s eyes were open, seeming to look back at him, and Ezio cringed.
Looking into his second son’s eyes, not wanting to hold him, he spoke, his voice loud in the quiet of the night. “This one has the look of the devil in his eyes; we’ll call him Lucifer.”
To Ezio’s horror, his wife died seconds after giving birth to Lucifer.
Michael and Lucifer had dark hair and beautiful olive-toned skin. Both had dark blue eyes, and they were identical except for their demeanor.
Michael was the model child every father dreamed of having. He was well-mannered, obedient, and did well in school.
Ezio doted on him, and he treated Lucifer with indifference, blaming the younger twin for the death of his beloved wife, Anna.
Lucifer was the opposite of his brother; he was crude and insulting. He disobeyed his father every chance he got, and he delighted in tormenting him.
In the beginning, the boys got along, but as they grew older, things changed. Both were always competing against each other, whether in sports or with the opposite sex. When one had a girlfriend, the other brother wanted her, and usually did.
Michael was sensitive, more of the gentlemanly type. Lucifer was rougher, a real bad boy who was always getting into fights.
He often came to Michael’s aid, protecting him from bullies, and he always took the blame when Michael did something wrong. He took the punishment their father dished out, which should have been Michael’s.
They had just turned eighteen when one girl caught their attention: a sixteen-year-old beauty named Iris Braxton. She was slender with sandy blond hair, the only child of Steven Braxton, a billionaire investment broker.
Her parents spoiled her, lavishing her with expensive gifts, and for her sixteenth birthday, they bought her a red sports car.
She met the twins at a party, and if it weren’t for how they dressed and acted, she couldn’t tell them apart.
Right away, she saw how different they were. Michael was sweet, a gentleman. Lucifer was rough around the edges, crude, and cocky, wearing a black leather jacket and riding a motorcycle.
Iris stood to the side watching Lucifer neck with the town’s tramp. She felt something growing inside her, a little spark of excitement at the way he had the girl pushed up against the wall, his lips on her neck as he fondled her breasts, wishing it were her instead of the other girl.
Eyes closed, she pictured Lucifer kissing her, his hand caressing her. Opening her eyes, she gasped in horror when she saw him watching her with a smirk.
Turning, she bumped smack into Michael. Her face turned red, and she mumbled an apology.
“Where are you going in such a hurry, Iris?” he asked, his blue eyes sparkling.
“For some fresh air,” she replied.
Looking over her shoulder, she saw Lucifer watching her, that smirk still on his face. Michael offered to accompany her, which she gladly accepted.
Iris found him charming. He made her laugh, and she felt comfortable with him. After that, they began spending time together.
But whenever Lucifer was around, she became anxious. He was always giving her weird looks, like he was picturing her naked. But there was also something about the bad boy that had her heart racing and a tingling sensation coursing through her body.
Being a virgin, she wasn’t sure what her body was telling her.
Michael was always sweet to her. His kisses were gentle and soft, and he never tried to have sex with her.
Iris had a girlfriend, Jackie. She had raven-black hair and was more developed in the chest than the other girls in their circle. Lucifer started taking Jackie out, and they would often double date.
After a night at the drive-in or a school dance, the four of them would go to the local diner for burgers and fries. She had to sit there watching Lucifer nibble Jackie’s neck, his hand sliding under her top, while all Michael did was hold her hand as he watched his twin getting it on with Jackie across from him.
Jackie’s hand went under the table, and Lucifer moaned. It was obvious what she was doing, and neither one seemed to care that they were in a public place.
“I have to go home,” Jackie squealed.
“Okay, doll,” Lucifer murmured into her neck. “Let’s go.”
“No, if my father hears your bike, he will kill me, and I will be grounded for a week. Also, I’m wearing a skirt.”
She looked at Michael. “Will you drive me home? Lucifer can take Iris home on his bike since she is wearing jeans.”
Iris was shocked. She did not want to be alone with Lucifer. “No, Michael and I can both take you.”
It was Michael who spoke first. “You live on the other side of town, and it’s getting late. My brother will take you home.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
They had left her with no choice since she had left her car at home. When they got outside, she hesitated when Lucifer handed her the helmet to wear.
“What’s the matter? Do you need help putting it on?” he asked as he watched her with amusement.
“No, I can manage. It’s just…it’s just I’ve never ridden a bike before,” she stammered.
Grabbing the helmet from her hand, he chuckled as he placed it on her head, putting the strap up under her chin. “Don’t worry. Just hang on tight to me, and you won’t fall off.” Jumping on the bike, he started it and nodded his head, motioning for Iris to get on.
She couldn’t help the excitement that flowed through her veins as Lucifer raced his bike along the road. She clung to him, her arms around his waist.
It was scary yet thrilling as the wind hit her face. She liked the feeling of his hard body, and she was sad when it ended. He pulled to a stop in front of her house, and she got off.
“Good night, Iris; I’ll be seeing you soon,” he said as he took off.
A week later, she and Michael went to a keg party that was being held at night under the bridge. It was a spot where all the kids would party and make out.
Tents were set up, and a bonfire started. Lucifer was there with Jackie, who was becoming quite drunk and flirting with Michael shamelessly, but Lucifer didn’t seem to mind.
After one beer, Iris wanted to leave. She was tired of watching Michael flirt back with Jackie.
Realizing he wasn’t going to take her home, she got angry, so she started walking. Moments later, the sound of a motorcycle approaching made her turn around. It was Lucifer.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Home,” she snapped back.
“Get on. I’ll give you a ride.”
It was dark, and the walk home would have taken forever, so she jumped on behind him.
Halfway home, it started raining, making the roads slippery, so Lucifer drove to a nearby barn. The door was open, so he drove his bike inside.
It was now pouring, and thunder and lightning struck, lighting up the night sky. “We’ll have to wait out the storm here,” he said, turning to her.
He smiled, letting his eyes roam down her body. She had small, cute breasts she knew would grow as she got older, and a tiny waist. She looked scared, like a frightened deer, when she saw him staring at her.
Aware that she was stranded with him, she became nervous. His eyes were undressing her, and before she could stop him, he pulled her into his arms. She tried pushing him away, but he wouldn’t budge.
“Let go of me,” she screeched.
“Why are you with Michael when it’s me you want to be with?” Not giving her a chance to answer, he captured her mouth with his.
Lips pressed together, he pushed his tongue inside her mouth, exploring. Her lips were soft against his. Her scent drove him crazy with desire, and when she put her arms around his neck, kissing back, he lowered her down onto a bed of straw.
Iris didn’t have the willpower to stop him, nor did she want to. When he undid her blouse and his mouth went to the tops of her breasts, she moaned, arching her back. His mouth felt warm as he kissed her breasts through the flimsy material of her bra.
His hand moved gently as he caressed her skin. Moving down to the zipper on her jeans, he pulled them down, slipped a hand inside her panties, and began stroking between her soft, womanly folds.
Removing his pants, he pulled hers down, reached into his pocket, and took out a condom.
Once covered, he got on top and began kissing her neck as he guided himself slowly inside her. She was wet and ready for him, and he had never wanted a girl as badly as he wanted Iris.
He felt how tight she was, and when he penetrated her, he realized she was a virgin. He was too overcome with desire and lust to stop, but he tried his best not to hurt her, to give her time to adjust to him. He knew it would hurt for a minute and vowed to make it as pleasurable for her as possible.
She let out a small yelp when Lucifer took her virginity. It hurt for a second, but soon she was writhing and squirming beneath him with such intense pleasure, moaning as she dug her fingers into his back.
When Lucifer was finished, he rolled onto his side, pulling her close. He kissed her as he stroked her back and murmured against her mouth, “You’re mine now. You belong to me, and no one will ever touch you except me.”
Pulling away, she started dressing. What they had done hit her; she had betrayed her boyfriend and felt terrible. “What about Michael?”
“What about him?”
“He’s your brother—how could we do this to him?” she cried.
Getting up, Lucifer pulled on his pants and, taking Iris in his arms, kissed her.
“You don’t have to worry about him; he’s been banging Jackie for some time now.”
“Liar,” she yelled, pushing him away.
“Don’t be so naive, Iris. Why do you think he was anxious to drive her home last week? I’m sorry if that hurts you, but it’s me you wanted to be with.”
She melted into his arms, knowing he was right, but they had to tell Michael that they were now together. She only hoped he would understand.
And it seemed as if Michael understood. He was quite gracious about it, wishing them well with a smile.
Several weeks later, all hell broke loose when Iris’s father stormed into the Siciliano’s mansion, swearing he would have Lucifer charged with rape if something wasn’t done about him. She was sent away to school in Switzerland and was unable to contact Lucifer.
Ezio and his son fought, and Lucifer was once again told how much of a disappointment he was, how he was not loved, and that he was no longer welcome in his father’s home. He was sent to live with his Uncle Fino and Aunt Nadia in Italy.
Anger and resentment were the driving forces behind Lucifer’s determination to make something of himself so he could return to America someday and rub his success in his father’s face. For eight years, he had no contact with his father or his brother, not a letter, not even a phone call.
That is, until the day he received a wedding invitation from Michael, who was marrying Iris Braxton. He crumpled the invitation into a ball and tossed it into the wastebasket.
