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The Wrong Brother, The Right Mistake

The Wrong Brother, The Right Mistake

Romance
last updateLast Updated : 2026-09-17
By:  Dianna JamUpdated just now
Language: English
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Synopsis

Dark Romance

Contemporary

Badboy

Playboy

Brave

Pregnant

Affair

Twisted

Five years ago, I ran away from my wedding in Lake Como after discovering that Lorenzo Bandini, the man I trusted with my life, had betrayed me. Before sunrise, I made one reckless choice with his older brother. Zachary Bandini is arrogant, dangerous, and far too observant. I left his room the next morning and disappeared before either Bandini brother could ruin what remained of me. I never told Zach that our single night together followed me home. Now I own one of Manhattan’s most exclusive wedding-planning companies, and my four-year-old daughter, Abigail, is the only part of my life I refuse to risk. She has my attitude, my talent for creating chaos, and Zach’s face. Keeping her hidden has worked for five years. Then I accept the biggest wedding contract of my career and walk into the first meeting to find Zach beside the bride. Her fiancé. Zach thinks I vanished because I regretted him. He has no idea I left carrying the one thing that could connect us forever. I can survive his attention. I can ignore the way he still makes anger feel dangerously close to desire. I can plan his wedding, smile at his fiancée, and keep every secret exactly where it belongs. But Abigail is curious, fearless, and impossible to control. And Zach has never been a man who stops looking once he knows something is being hidden from him. So what happens when the man I have spent five years avoiding finally looks into my daughter’s eyes and sees himself?

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Chapter 1

The Bride, the Brother, & the Bad Idea

Lake Como had its own way of making a person feel beautiful and like they were about to be punished at the same time.

Maybe it was because the water was too calm. Maybe it was because the Bandini family estate stood at the edge of the lake in pale stone, with tall windows, black iron balconies, and gardens trimmed so precisely that the hedges looked more ready to get married than I did.

Or maybe it was because I’d been smiling for two hours and forty minutes, and my face was starting to lose its connection to my soul.

“Aubrey,” Mama hissed beside me, though she didn’t really hiss because Catalina Moguel never did anything halfway. “Your back.”

I immediately straightened my shoulders.

“Not like that, either. Now you look like you’re about to sue someone.”

“I do want to sue these shoes,” I muttered.

She looked me over from the top of my head to the hem of my ivory-white dress. Her black hair was swept into a low bun, her diamond earrings shifting as she drew a long breath, the breath of a Latina mother who had raised four children and still couldn’t believe God had given her me as His first experiment.

“You’re getting married tomorrow,” she said. “Try to look happy.”

“I do look happy.”

“You look like you’re deciding who to kill first.”

“Then I look focused.”

Adam laughed to my left. My twin, technically the second-born because he came out seven minutes after me and had never accepted the loss gracefully. He leaned against a cocktail table, his black suit immaculate, his expression as obnoxious as ever.

“You look ugly when you’re being scolded,” he said.

I turned toward him slowly. “Go fuck yourself.”

Behind him, Danzel, the thrid brother, was stealing prosciutto from a serving platter as though the Bandinis would go bankrupt if he didn’t rescue the meat immediately. Bianna, the youngest, seventeen and already capable of judging people with a sharp-eyed precision, was whispering with our cousin while watching the Bandinis like they were a rare species in an aristocratic zoo.

The Moguel family had never been able to enter a room without changing its temperature. Papa was laughing too loudly near the terrace, one arm slung around the shoulders of a Bandini uncle who didn’t seem sure whether he was being welcomed or taken hostage. Mama corrected my posture, Adam annoyed me, Danzel ate, Bianna judged, and in the middle of it all, I stood at the center of my pre-wedding evening in a perfect dress with a pulse beating behind my ribs.

Nervous, obviously.

Normal.

A twenty-two-year-old woman who was marrying a man from one of the wealthiest families in Italy tomorrow was allowed to be nervous. In fact, I thought that if she wasn’t nervous, someone should check whether she’d been replaced by a socialite robot powered by a lithium battery and premium teenager trauma.

I looked toward Lorenzo.

He stood near the marble fountain, speaking to two older men whose faces had spent too much time in boardrooms. His brown hair was neatly combed, his suit dark, his smile gentle. Safe. That was the word that always came to mind whenever I looked at him.

For the past two years, he had always been safe.

During my first semester of college, when a strange man started appearing too often outside my classroom building, at the café where I studied, along the walk back to my apartment, Lorenzo had been the one standing beside me, saying, “I’ll drive you.”

He didn’t make me feel stupid for being afraid. He didn’t laugh at the way I checked my reflection in store windows to make sure no one was following me. He learned my routine, drove me everywhere, introduced me to his security people, and stayed with me at the library until late at night when I was too embarrassed to admit I was afraid to go home alone.

Some men made the world feel bigger. Lorenzo made the world feel like you could close the door on it.

Maybe that was love. Or maybe I was only twenty-two and had grown too fond of things that didn’t chase me through parking lots.

“Aubrey.”

I turned as Lorenzo appeared in front of me, his smile soft, one hand immediately settling on my waist. I was supposed to feel calmer. And part of me did. The other part still wanted to sit down, take off my shoes, and drink ice water straight out of a flower vase.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’ve talked to sixty people, and every single one of them told me I’m glowing. So maybe I’m dying.”

“You’re beautiful.” He lowered his head and kissed my temple. “It’s almost over. But there’s someone you need to meet first.”

“Who?”

“My brother.”

I blinked. “Zachary Bandini?”

Lorenzo rolled his eyes before he even answered, which was honestly very Lorenzo whenever that name came up. “Yeah. He finally decided to grace us with his presence.”

I tried not to look too curious. I failed. “You said he was in New York.”

“He was supposed to be.” He glanced toward the west garden, his mouth tightening. “But apparently the future President of Bandini International still has five minutes to spare for a family event before he goes back to conquering oil, investors, or whoever else is next.”

Zachary Fransesco Bandini had existed in my life more often as a complaint than as a person. For two years, Lorenzo had rarely said his name without looking like he wanted to overturn a chair.

Zach was an asshole. Zach was arrogant. Zach couldn’t be controlled. Zach’s mind was too sharp and his morals too flexible. Zach had graduated from Harvard with degrees in economics and international politics, then earned a master’s in energy and finance, followed by some short program at Oxford, because of course there were men in the world who treated higher education like a watch collection.

At twenty-five, his life sounded like an overly confident business article: oil negotiations in Abu Dhabi, investor meetings in New York, a minor scandal in Monaco, trouble in Dubai, a Spanish princess who had supposedly thrown a glass at him during a private party.

Lorenzo had told me that last part with disgust.

And I, a respectable woman, had never asked whether the glass hit him.

Lorenzo took my hand. “Come on. Before he leaves again and everyone pretends to be disappointed.”

We walked past clusters of guests who smelled like expensive perfume and financial decisions. Above us, garden lights hung like stars employed exclusively by the Bandini family.

Then I saw him.

Zachary Bandini stood beside a half-naked marble statue of Bacchus and, incredibly annoyingly, somehow managed to make the god of wine look less committed.

He was taller than Lorenzo. His black suit fell perfectly over broad shoulders, his white shirt open one button farther than could reasonably be called accidental, and his thick black hair was slightly tousled over his forehead, as though the Lake Como wind had a personal agenda. His jaw was clean-shaven but hard, his mouth calm, his eyes a dark blue beneath a gaze that neither welcomed nor rejected.

His gaze simply stopped on me.

Beside him stood a tall woman in a liquid-silver gown, with sharp cheekbones and blonde hair slicked back in a wet look. It took me two seconds to recognize her. Celeste Varga. The model whose face showed up constantly in perfume ads, magazines, and YouTube videos made by people explaining skincare routines that cost as much as apartment rent.

“Zach,” Lorenzo said, his voice stiff.

Zach didn’t answer right away. He looked at his brother first, then lowered his gaze to my hand, still held by Lorenzo, before returning to my face.

His smile appeared slowly. “Lorenzo,” he said. His voice was low, relaxed. “You’re right on time. I was starting to worry you’d run away from your own party.”

Lorenzo gave a short laugh. “Funny.”

“I wasn’t trying.”

Lorenzo tightened his hand around my waist. “This is Aubrey.”

I stepped forward half a pace because if there was one thing Mama had taught me, besides how to cut steak properly and insult someone without leaving evidence, it was never to let a handsome man make you forget your manners.

“Aubrey Moguel,” I said, holding out my hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Zach looked at my hand for a moment, then took it. His fingers were warm, large, strong, and commanding.

He bent and kissed the back of my hand.

I had seen plenty of older European men perform the gesture tonight. Usually it was polite, dry, slightly museum-like. But Zach did it while looking up at me from beneath his dark lashes, and suddenly the back of my hand felt like a body part that should have legal representation.

“Zachary Bandini,” he said, as though I didn’t already know. “And I have to admit, Lorenzo finally chose someone far too interesting for his standards.”

Lorenzo laughed without humor.

I slowly pulled my hand away. “Are his standards low, or am I too far above them?”

“Both could be true,” Zach said, his smile widening.

“I almost like you.”

“Almost is my favorite territory.”

Lorenzo cleared his throat. “Zach just got in from New York.”

“And he’s already insulting the bride-to-be.” I looked at Lorenzo. “Efficient.”

“I’m only expressing concern.” He picked up a glass from the small table beside him, his movements lazy, though his eyes stayed on me.

“About what?”

“Your life.” He took a sip of his drink. “Twenty-two is too young, and life is too long, to end up at the altar with Lorenzo.”

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35 Chapters
The Bride, the Brother, & the Bad Idea
Lake Como had its own way of making a person feel beautiful and like they were about to be punished at the same time.Maybe it was because the water was too calm. Maybe it was because the Bandini family estate stood at the edge of the lake in pale stone, with tall windows, black iron balconies, and gardens trimmed so precisely that the hedges looked more ready to get married than I did.Or maybe it was because I’d been smiling for two hours and forty minutes, and my face was starting to lose its connection to my soul.“Aubrey,” Mama hissed beside me, though she didn’t really hiss because Catalina Moguel never did anything halfway. “Your back.”I immediately straightened my shoulders.“Not like that, either. Now you look like you’re about to sue someone.”“I do want to sue these shoes,” I muttered.She looked me over from the top of my head to the hem of my ivory-white dress. Her black hair was swept into a low bun, her diamond earrings shifting as she drew a long breath, the breath of
last updateLast Updated : 2026-08-06
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Wide Enough to Ruin a Life
I tilted my head. “Do you always give your blessing by making everyone want to throw a drink in your face?”“Not everyone.” Zach glanced at Celeste. “Some people just want to throw the glass.”“That was one time.” Celeste laughed again, brighter this time.“Two,” Zach said.“That was because you said women would be happier if they stopped believing men could be fixed.”“I was saving your generation.”I looked at him. “So you’re a misogynist with a charity program?”“Aubrey,” Lorenzo muttered.But Zach smiled instead, actually smiled this time, and damn it, his whole face changed. The coldness didn’t disappear. It only shifted, like a blade catching the light.“No,” he said. “I’m just realistic.”“That’s usually the word men use when they want to sound smart after saying something lazy.”Zach lowered his glass, his eyes flicking briefly to my lips before returning to mine. Rude and incredibly quick.“I’m starting to understand why Lorenzo kept you hidden,” he said.Lorenzo stiffened. “
last updateLast Updated : 2026-08-06
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Sad, Really
My stomach felt like it was being pulled from the inside.Because once, a few hours ago, maybe even a few minutes ago, I would have defended that. I would have stood in front of anyone and said, yes, I love him, of course I do, I’m marrying him, I chose him.Now....“She’s still young,” Lorenzo continued. “She has a big family, a big ego, and an even bigger mouth, but when she’s truly afraid? She comes back to me.”“Don’t say that,” Camilla whispered.“Why? It’s true.” Lorenzo’s voice softened in a way that made me sick. “You know about the man who used to follow her around campus?”I froze.“The stalker?” Camilla asked.“Yeah. After that, I became... her center. Her little safe place.” He said it with amusement, like I were a kitten he had once found in the rain and who could no longer survive without a bowl of milk from his hand. “She always feels safe when I’m with her. It’s sad, really.”Sad.That one word went deeper than his lips on Camilla’s mouth. Deeper than the lie in his me
last updateLast Updated : 2026-08-06
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The Devil at the Balcony Door
I had no idea how my feet carried me upstairs. Honestly.One second, I was still in the back corridor of the villa, clutching a bottle of Barolo like a woman who had just lost her fiancé and received alcohol as legal compensation.The next, I was climbing the curved stone staircase toward the east wing, passing portraits of Bandini ancestors who all looked like they had once ordered poor people off their lawns.I wanted to laugh at that.The sounds of the party drifted up from below. Music. Laughter. Glasses. The names of important families being called in warm, expensive voices. Everyone else was still living in the same night. I was the only one who had been dragged somewhere else, somewhere cold and foggy and filled with Lorenzo’s words circling like flies over rotten fruit.“Sad, really.”“She’s too dependent.”“She’ll walk down the aisle, look at me, cry, and everyone will call it romantic.”My hand tightened around the banister.I used to think pain came like a knife. Sharp, qui
last updateLast Updated : 2026-08-06
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Before the Rain, There Was Fire
The night became careful hands, a mouth that wasn’t, broken breaths in embarrassing places, and my name leaving Zach’s mouth in a way that was deeply disrespectful to common sense. At first, he went slowly because he knew it was my first time. Infuriatingly slowly. He gave me time to pull away, to get angry, to curse, to bite his shoulder when my body didn’t know where to put that much feeling.“Easy,” he murmured once when I sucked in a breath at the sting spreading through my thighs.All that came out of me was a broken breath.Then... once I had gotten used to it... the night turned into something hot, messy, and completely without manners. A pillow fell. The whiskey glass got knocked onto the carpet. The Barolo stayed intact on the table like an aristocratic witness choosing not to interfere. Zach kissed me until Lorenzo became a name I only noticed because I had stopped remembering it. Disgusting, really... the fact that my body could betray the entire drama of my life that quick
last updateLast Updated : 2026-08-06
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Four Years of Blue Eyes
FIVE YEARS LATERFive years ago, I ran away from Lake Como. Now I was standing in the kitchen with a spatula in one hand, threatening a four-year-old with strawberry-scented soap.Life had evolved gracefully.“Abigail Isadora Moguel,” I called, flipping a piece of French toast in the pan. “If you’re not in the bathroom in ten seconds, I’m going to bathe you herself.”A laugh came from the living room.“Abby, don’t run with that!” Then Hannah’s breathless voice.“I’m not running!” Abigail shouted back. “I’m escaping!”An important legal distinction, apparently.Something pink streaked past the kitchen doorway. Very fast, very round, and almost naked except for flamingo-print underwear, one purple sock, a plastic crown, and a cape made from a hand towel Hannah had tied around her neck because no government was powerful enough to stop domestic crime before seven in the morning.Hannah ran after her with a toothbrush in hand. “She bit me,” she reported.“I didnt!” Abigail argued from behi
last updateLast Updated : 2026-08-06
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Five Years Between Footsteps
Two hours later, I walked into the office in black heels, sunglasses perched on my head, and a second coffee that should’ve had a medical license. Madison Avenue was sunny in the way that made everyone look more successful than their mental health.The limestone facade of our building reflected the sunlight, the small brass letters spelling MOGUEL ATELIER gleaming beside the door, not loud, just expensive enough to make people feel guilty touching the handle.The moment the elevator opened on the second floor, I was greeted by the pop of a cork.“I’m not dead yet,” I said.“Not yet,” Danielle replied from the middle of the workspace, holding a bottle of champagne. “But if you pass out, we already have drinks.”My entire team was gathered around the long table. Carla from florals had an iPad in her hand. Miles from logistics already had three spreadsheets open and looked happy in a deeply concerning way. Nora from client relations was smiling too widely, a clear sign she had already st
last updateLast Updated : 2026-08-06
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Please Ignore the Five-Year History
Zachary Bandini.That name stood in the doorway in a dark suit, his black hair a little shorter than I remembered, and a face that had already been unfair five years ago and had apparently decided to level up into a zoning violation.Thirty looked annoyingly good on him. It hadn’t softened anything. It had only made everything more controlled. His jaw was sharper, his shoulders broader, and there was an expensive kind of calm in the way he carried himself.I had once seen that man naked on a balcony in Lake Como with scratch marks across his chest.Now he was standing in a presidential suite, wearing a suit that could probably pay Theo’s salary for six months, as another woman’s future husband.“Finally.”Aurora’s soft voice slapped me out of my daze. I blinked and looked at her standing there with a sweet smile. She took two steps toward Zach, then stopped, like she was used to giving him space to come to her.Zach walked in calmly. His eyes swept over the suite with the same calm. C
last updateLast Updated : 2026-08-11
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A Minor Conflict of Interest
I talked to Aurora. Asked what she wanted. Offered options. Translated her absurd language into something vendors could actually execute without crying on the loading dock. Nora took notes. Danielle handled the slides, occasionally adding a short comment, and twice kicked my foot under the table with the force of a woman trying to say you’re explaining everything later or I’m calling the spiritual police.Zach stayed mostly quiet.Seriously.He sat there with one leg crossed casually, one hand resting on his knee, his body too big for the cream sofa that had clearly never been designed to accommodate a man with that kind of reputation. He didn’t interrupt.Every now and then, he picked up the espresso Aurora hadn’t touched. Sometimes he glanced through the documents. Once, he corrected the estimated guest count in a calm voice.“Six hundred,” he said.Aurora looked at him. “Mama said five hundred.”“Your mother counted the people she likes.”I wrote down the new number. “So seven hund
last updateLast Updated : 2026-08-11
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Congratulations, You’re Trapped
The pen in my hand didn’t snap.A small victory, but I believe women should celebrate whatever wins are available.Danielle stopped typing.I didn’t look at her.I didn’t look at the door Aurora had disappeared through either.I looked at Zach. Because if a man from my past was going to show up armed with dinner-knife comments, the least I could do was give him the courtesy of watching the blade fail to break skin.I smiled, just enough to remind both of us that I had once destroyed my own wedding in high heels and still managed to walk away with my dignity, even if parts of it had been left behind in this man’s room and grown into a four-year-old who liked naming chicken nuggets.“Personal experience actually makes me highly qualified,” I said. “Now I know exactly how many things can go wrong before someone makes it to the altar.”Zach kept his eyes on me. “Very professional,” he said.“I try.”“Not too hard, I hope.”“Don’t worry. I save the real effort for clients who show up on t
last updateLast Updated : 2026-08-13
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