Forbidden Temptation My Mafia Fiance's Alpha Father

Chapter 49 Chapter 49 Aden I storm into the dining room, where the table is set for four.

I sit down hard in my chair at the head of the table, waving at the place settings on either side of me. "Remove these," I tell the waitstaff, barely getting the words out due to my frustration. "Have Hudson's and Brooklyn's plates sent up to Brooklyn's room. They'll take their supper there." The staff don't think I can see them giving each other worried looks as they silently do as they're told. No matter. They do not concernright now.

The chef comes out next, looking around the room.

"Sir?" he asks, his French accent heavy in the word. "Will you be dining alone?" "Apparently," I say, angry that Jayde isn't here, either.

What would it take to get srespect in this house? It's times like this I wish I had actually becthe Alpha I was born to be, to be able to compel people to do as I wished.

To compel Brooklyn to stop crying.

"Please bring out the meal," I grit out.

The chef nods, impassive, and heads back into the kitchen.

A few moments later he appears again with the first course salmon tartare with a small side salad and a freshly sliced French baguette.

I ignore the fish and reach for the warm bread, slathering it with butter as I sit back in my chair, trying to control my thoughts.

But I can't stop them from going to her. Brooklyn.

I almost couldn't take looking at her tonight, sitting there in her bed, crying as if her heart would break.

I tried tried to break the mood, to cajole her out of it, to scare her out of it by pounding on the wall. But she had just kept crying.

I grit my teeth between bites of bread, angry with myself for not being able to pull it together.

Angry at the way my feelings had so much control overlately.

For wanting, even now, to dash up those stairs and so something-anything-to make her stop.

But she is Hudson's problem now, a right that Hudson just asserted upstairs. Kickingout and keeping Brooklyn all to himself.

My wolf...doesn't like it. At all.

I really tried, these past few weeks. Tried to distract myself, to busy myself with work and plans. Tried to ignore her when she walked into a room, the light lily scent of her shampoo drifting through the air- The wide-eyed expressions of her face when she feels surprised, or happy, sad, or angry.

I close my eyes tightly for a moment, trying to push the images away, try to calm my wolf.

But Goddess, she's at her best when she's angry, with that fire in her eyes, that courage she drags up from somewhere deep in her soul. I love to prod her, to push her, to raise that fire in her. To see her wolf rise to the surface in her eyes as she struggles against it.

The way it felt those few times when I lost my control. When I caught her spying onin the basement, for instance, and chased her up the stairs, pinned her against the hall of her room, saw the passion in her, then the defiance.

Her wolf had been right there, tantalizing me.

The way it felt when she pounded her little fists against my chest-God, I had wanted to turn her around right there, press her up against the wall, press the length of myself up against her ass as I slipped my hand beneath her skirt. I'd teach her a lesson about what it meant to defy me, to defy a shifter with Alpha blood, to defy a man with as much power as me.

I realize that I'm squeezing the slice of the bread within my fist, crushing it, ruining it. Then I drop it to the table and stare at it, helpless.

Damn this she-wolf. She will be the undoing of me. She madelose it-lose absolute control of myself. The one thing I never do.

And she has absolutely no idea.

I have to get rid of her, I realize suddenly, looking blankly across the room.

I'll send them away-marry them quick, send them back to the old country to our family there, where they'd be safe - But the idea of it, of them building a life together, of her smiling at my son, while she bares his children- I grit my teeth and pound my fist against the table, trying to keep my claws from extending. God dammit.

I stare down at my plate as my mind races.

But what can I do? What other option is there? Can I, somehow, claim her for my own? Convince Hudson to give her up, to move on to someone else? I scoff at myself, putting a hand over my face, disgusted.

What am I thinking-trying to find a way to take my son's fiancée from him? It's unthinkable, despicable. Hudson would never forgive me. And Remington-

I've never been in such a tight spot.

Never wanted something so badly, and yet had it so completely om forbidden toin terms of morality, of honor, of political alliance, of family. Absolutely forbidden. Yet, as each day passes, I feel my control over myself slipping, bit by bit. If I lose that tight control of myself, I know that I will lose everything. And yet...

It doesn't help, sometimes, when she looks atthat way. When shem half-lids her eyes and pulls her lower lip into her mouth. Like she's holding back, too. Like she's in heat for me.

I slam my fist against the table again, forcing my mind away from the thought.

What the fuck am I going to do? At that moment, the door to the dining room swings open.