Forbidden Temptation My Mafia Fiance's Alpha Father (Brooklyn and Aden) novel Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Aden

A few streets later, I’m surprised by the sound of her voice.

“Where…?” Her voice is breathy.

My gaze snaps to her, taking in her wide, beautiful eyes, the movement of her throat as she gulps in fear. She damn near jumps at the force of my glare, but then she braces herself.

“Where are you taking me?” she demands, her voice more confident.

I go back to focusing on the road.

“Please let me go. They’ve got my sister back there… I don’t know what they’ll do to her!”

I make a mental note of it.

She tries again. “Please,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean any harm at the prison–or here, I don’t know what I did-”

“You didn’t do anything,” I say flatly, turning onto a side street.

Her voice is frantic when she tries again. “Are you…are you taking me to a brothel?”

I turn to stare at her, my brow furrowed with disgust and

confusion. She’s shaking like a leaf in the front seat.

“Why would I take you to a brothel, Brooklyn?”

“To make me…work there. Pay off my debt. My sister’s debt.”

I just shake my head again, laughing a dark little laugh. I just saved this girl from Davis, and here she is accusing me of doing precisely what Davis was going to do.

Truly, this girl is too delicate for this world.

Brooklyn is moving in the seat next to me, dipping to the floor to…grab something? But what? Maybe a piece of her jewelry fell off?

It’s quiet for a moment until–click, click. What is that? A lighter?

Frowning, I turn, shocked to see Brooklyn with a lit lighter, bringing the flame so close to her perfect face that I can smell. the delicate peach fuzz of her cheek burning-

“Stop the car,” she demands. Her voice is shaking, and she’s flinching at the pain of the lighter against her skin.

“Brooklyn!” I roar.

Her eyes fly open as I press the rag firmly against her nose and mouth. She struggles away from it, but I hold her steady with a practiced hand.

When she goes limp, I gently let her body settle against the seat. I turn back to the road and put the car back in drive.

God dammit, this girl is already more trouble than she’s worth.

“Yeah, tell that to your cock, buddy,” I say to myself–and my wolf.

Every time she fights or mouths off, my wolf–Onyx–rumbles, drawn to her.

Frowning at the thought, I flick open the switchblade, studying it.

At a red light, I look closer, noticing writing along the razor’s edge.

To my sharp–tongued Catalina, whose words cut as deep as this razor. Love always, Lennox.

Shocked, I stare at the blade in my hand, and then deftly return it to my pocket. I drag a hand down my face.

Catalina. Lennox. Brooklyn.

Suddenly, I know exactly who this girl is.