Why Does El Otro Pablo'S Sister Tell His Story?

Pedro Marquez has built his life on control, power, and emotional distance. In his world, attachment is dangerous—and love is a liability he cannot afford. When a betrayal inside his empire forces him back to Havana, he is reminded of the one life he left behind… and the people who still see him as family. Dante welcomes him like nothing has changed. Cassie still treats him like home. But it is Michelle—Dante’s daughter—who unsettles him the most. She is no longer the little girl he once knew, but a woman whose presence awakens something dangerous in him. She is nineteen now. Beautiful, emotional, and far too open in the way she looks at him. For Michelle, Pedro was her childhood comfort, her first hero, and the man who once made her feel safe in a world where she often felt alone. His sudden return awakens everything she thought she had outgrown… and everything she was never meant to feel. What begins as a reunion quickly becomes tension neither of them understands. Michelle’s affection grows into something deeper, while Pedro fights a constant war within himself—torn between desire, guilt, and loyalty to Dante, his best friend. He knows he should stay away, because she is too young. And Dante was like a brother in everything but blood. And he knows his world destroys anything pure it touches. Pedro doesn't love or makes love he fucks and Michelle was too innocent for him. But then. She doesn’t know how to let go.

A typical teenage romance novel. Where the girl falls in love with the jock. But the only difference in this one is that the girl falls in love with her brother. "Why does what I do matter so much to you?" I asked curiously. He slammed his hand against the car behind me as he caged me in. He looked down at me with a scowl on his face, his tall frame hovering over me. "Because I care about you." He said loudly and his minty breath hit my nostrils causing me to gulp. I've never been this close to him before. Since the first day that he met her, he was attracted to her. But he had to keep his feelings a secret, for the sake of their family. She can't fall in love with him. So he needs to show her the worst parts of himself, because maybe then she'll hate him. BOOKS 1 & 2.

On the day of the earthquake, my sister Elena shoved me off the third floor, then burst into tears and said she had only been trying to save me. Everyone believed her. The only person who stood on my side was Nicolo, the youngest mafia boss Sicily had seen in decades. He lifted me out of the rubble, then proposed to me in front of everyone and said that from that day on, anyone who touched me would answer to him. Two months later, I was pregnant. Nicolo bought an entire island and planted it with my favorite irises for our wedding. My father spent a fortune on a one-of-a-kind gown made just for me. Everyone said I was the most envied woman in the family. Then I went into labor, and both of them disappeared. My father said the family had a deal on the line. Nicolo kissed my swollen belly, murmured that he would be back soon, and promised to bring gifts for me and the baby. Right before I was wheeled into the delivery room, an anonymous video landed on my phone. Nicolo was wearing a groom's suit. Elena stood beside him with a hand resting on her pregnant stomach. She was wearing my wedding dress. Her arm was looped through my fiance's as if she had won him fair and square. At the end of the clip, my father asked in a lowered voice, "If you and Valentina stay married only on paper, what happens to the child she gives birth to?" Nicolo was quiet for two seconds before he answered. "Valentina grew up with everything. Elena spent her whole life carrying the stain of being illegitimate. Her child will not grow up the same way." So all that tenderness had never been for me. It had all been for Elena. Fine. They could have each other.

When I was fourteen, my brother—the Don—brought home an orphan girl to settle a debt of gratitude. From then on, my life within the Corleone family always took a backseat to hers. The girl framed me, claiming I was trying to poison her. My brother slapped me across the face and locked me in the attic. To make it up to her, he even gave her the position that was meant for me. This time, I didn't say a word. I just packed my bags and left. It took a few days for him to realize I hadn't returned to the family estate. Only then did he find out that I’d joined an international medical aid organization—and that I was never coming back to New York. After that, he completely broke down.

I took a drugged drink for Moretti, the Don I had loved for seven years. He helped Bella, my frightened sister, to her feet first. "Bella is fragile. I'll get her to the car." "Iris, wait here. I'll come back for you soon." My stomach burned like fire, but my fingers were turning cold. I stood there frozen for a long moment before a bitter laugh slipped out. It was the ninety-ninth time he had chosen Bella. In college, I once waited for him in the library with a fever, expecting him to take me home. Then Bella called and said her panic attack was back, so he told me to wait. Years later, I entered the Valtieri family and became his underboss. I balanced his books, negotiated his deals, took bullets for him. He still believed I would always wait. I bit my tongue and forced myself to stay clear-headed while I handled another round of probing from the rival family. At one in the morning, Moretti still had not come back. Bella's post appeared first. In the photo, Moretti was making her a late-night meal. That was when I understood. This time, too, he would not come back for me. And I no longer wanted to wait. I opened my phone and bought a ticket to Sicily three days later. Moretti, goodbye.

At the age when I should have been attending university, I was framed by my biological parents and sent to prison. My sister had been cruelly killed by her kidnappers when she tried to save me, and they blamed me for her death. On the day of my release, I was kidnapped and had one of my ears cut off. When I found the opportunity, I immediately called my father, asking him to save me. Instead, he snapped, saying, “You’re no longer my son! Don’t contact me!” I was then burned alive. After I died, my sister returned. However, when my parents found out that the charred corpse was mine, the family crumbled.