Forbidden Temptation My Mafia Fiance's Alpha Father (Brooklyn and Aden) novel Chapter 72

Chapter 72
Brooklyn

As empowered as I feel in my mind, my body is quite the opposite.

There’s not much I can do as Aden pulls my left arm around to the other side of the table, clicking the other half of the handcuffs around my wrist.

Then he stands back, studying his handiwork.

I pull back on the chain once, testing it, seeing how firmly it holds.

The handcuffs bite sharply into my wrists, making me wince, so I lean forward again, resting my elbows on the table and looking up into Aden’s face.

Casually, I clasp my hands together.

I see him open his mouth to speak, but before he can his gaze falls on the engagement ring on my left hand.

Quickly, he moves to unlink my hands and pull it off my ring finger, slipping it into his pocket.

“What, Aden?” I say, my voice soft. “Can’t hurt me with your wife’s ring on my hand? Something feel wrong about that?”

Even I’m shocked at the words that just came out of my mouth.

I see him flinch—just barely—but then he raises his eyes to mine, his face perfectly calm. “That’s enough, little one,” he says. “I’ll be asking the questions from here on out.”

He folds his arms and I hold his gaze, not moving an inch.

“Tell me about the note,” he demands, his words sharp.

“I don’t know what it is,” I say, matching his pace.

“Then why,” he pushes, his voice harder, “was it hidden in your room?”

“Because Jayde gave it to me.”

He presses his hands to the table. “Then you do know what it is.”

I narrow my eye at him. “I know what it is as far as I know that it’s a piece of paper with bad poetry written on it, sure. But as for what it means or what it’s for, I don’t know.”

“What did she tell you to do with it?” he says, bringing his face closer to mine. Even though we’re in this damp, dark basement, he smells wonderful. Powerful. I fight the urge to close my eyes and lean my head forward to nuzzle his neck, take in even more of that intoxicating scent of his.

Instead, I lower my voice almost to a whisper, forcing him to lean closer. “She told me to give it to Remington.”

I see Aden’s lips curl back from his teeth at that. But before he can ask another question, I continue.

“But obviously, since it was still in my room,” I say, lowering my eyes to his lips as I speak. “I didn’t.”

I hear a low rumble of dissatisfaction in Aden’s chest as he pushes away from the table, turning his back to me, clearly thinking this through.

I stay where I am, leaning my weight onto my elbows and forearms, watching him, my hair spilling around my face.

“Why?” Aden says, over his shoulder. “Why didn’t you give it to Remington?”