Forbidden Temptation My Mafia Fiance's Alpha Father (Brooklyn and Aden) novel Chapter 9

Chapter 9
Brooklyn

The music pounds in the club and, I have to admit, I’m really starting to have fun.

Lena is even loosening up a little bit, and she’s not as on edge as she has been the past few days.

Though, she absolutely keeps throwing up images of Kenwood in my mind.

Jolie dressed me tonight, which would usually make me uncomfortable, but for once, I let her take charge and decided to step out of my comfort zone and just go with it. What she calls a “dress” is more a sheet of silver fabric that falls across my front and then wraps low around my hips. It’s strapped together across my shoulders with a spiderweb of silver strings.

Gotta give it up to that wolf shifter metabolism…I’m showing a lot of skin, but I know I look good. Despite spending the last couple of days drowning myself in Ben & Jerry’s.

She also curled my long red hair into waves and gave me shadowy makeup and full red lips. Looking at myself in the club’s mirrored walls, I feel…well, I blush to admit it, but I feel really sexy.

It’s a strange feeling.

I’m not sure what I expected when Jolie took me to one of “her” clubs, but this feels nothing like a strip club. In fact, so far every woman dancing on the stages is fully clothed. I look around from my spot in a round corner booth, curious as to where everything else happens.

Jolie sits down next to me then, laughing. She waves goodbye to the man she had been talking with, then turns her attention to me. Her eyes are a little glazed.

“You having fun, baby Brooklyn?” She gives me a wide, inviting smile. I can’t help but smile back.

“Yes,” I say, laughing. “Though I’m curious…where does…all the oth—"

Jolie stiffens next to me, and I stop talking.

Lena scents fear.

I follow Jolie’s gaze. There’s a man standing across the VIP area, his arms crossed, staring at her. When I look, he starts to walk over.

Jolie quickly jumps to her feet, reaching out her arms to wrap this big fat potato of a man in a hug. I grimace a little—he looks like he hasn’t showered in a while.

Smells a bit like it, too. Definitely human.

“Davis!” she says, and I can tell her voice is falsely cheerful. “How you been, gorgeous?”

“Jolie,” he says, wrapping his hands around her upper arms and pushing her way from him. “We’ve got to talk.”

“Have you met my little sister, Brooklyn?” She gestures towards me with a big smile. “Brooklyn, this is Miguel Davis, an old friend. He’s the manager of the club.”

Davis’s eyes rove over me, taking in the generous portion of my thigh exposed by the little dress I’m wearing. I wasn’t uncomfortable before, but now I try to tug it down lower with my fist.