Forbidden Temptation My Mafia Fiance's Alpha Father (Brooklyn and Aden) novel Chapter 95

Chapter 95
Brooklyn

When I turn and find Aden standing in the doorway to my bedroom, I nearly jump out of my skin.

“Oh!” I say.

“Going somewhere?” he asks.

I nod. I’m standing in my bedroom mirror, holding two dresses.

“Out, actually. Hudson just came by and asked me if I want to go to dinner.”

Aden smiles at me, just raising the little corner of his mouth.

“You should go with the black dress, then,” he says, nodding towards a little minidress still hanging in my closet. “That’s better for a city dinner.”

I consider the dress, which is really just a scrap of fabric.

“You don’t think it’s too…” I say, hesitating and looking up at him, a little embarrassed. “Well, slutty?”

Aden laughs a little at this, leaning against my doorframe.

“The whole point of going to a chic restaurant in the city is to wear a dress like that and make your boyfriend jealous when all the other men stare at you. That’s why a dress like that exists.”

I look back at the dress, surprised and a little excited. I had never thought about it that way.

I sneak a glance at Aden, still leaning there in my doorway, wondering what he’d think if he saw me on Hudson’s arm, in this dress, the hem riding a little too high on my thigh.

Then, I take it off the hanger and lay it out on the bed, the question decided.

I start to move over to my vanity but stop dead in my tracks at his next question.

“Do you want to marry Hudson?” Aden asks, blunt.

I just stand there, blinking at him, totally confused.

“What?”

“Hudson,” Aden says, pushing the issue. “Do you want to marry him?”

Where was all of this coming from?

I take a moment to plan my next words. “I didn’t realize that I had a choice,” I say, keeping my voice quiet.

“No one will force you to say yes at the altar,” Aden replies, his voice low and husky.

That’s when I realize that this isn’t a real question about what I want. This is a negotiation.

I turn fully to him, folding my arms over her chest.

“I don’t want to go to my father’s house,” I say, evading the question of marriage. “I want to stay here.”

Because that, I think, is what this is really about.

Aden, I know, could care less about whether or not I actually marry Hudson—our wedded life isn’t what interests him. Instead, it’s my allegiance.

“There are other ways,” Aden says, his eyes drifting down over my body, “of staying in this house. Of proving your loyalty to this family.”

My breath comes shallow, and I try to stand perfectly still as he looks me over.

“What are they?” I ask, my voice a timid breath.

We’re getting dangerously close to some tricky territory with this question, with that look in his eye.

“Use your imagination,” Aden says, dragging his eyes up to mine.

Then, as if he can’t stand it a moment later, he turns away from me, heading back down the stairs.