Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Brooklyn

"That's impossible!" I gasp, staring up at him. "You can't force

me to marry someone against my will!"

He laughs at me, holding me closer to him, still looking dow into my face. "Anything I want you to do is possible, sweetie?

I press my hands against his chest, trying to push away. "Nobody has arranged marriages anymore. This isn't the eighteenth century!"

He laughs again and lets me go. I skitter away from him, stumbling a bit.

"You're in my world now, Brooklyn," he says, calmly puffing his hands in his pockets. "The world you were born fo. Do you think laws really matter in the underworld, the world outside of the stupid bureaucracy you've deluded yourself into thinking keeps you safe?"

My jaw drops open at this arrogance. "I have rights!"

"You have nothing," he barks, taking a step forward towards me. "The only thing that matters is power. Which is money.

Which is might. You have none of this. The only thing that gives you anything in this world, Brooklyn, any protection, is your bloodline.'

His gaze flicks to the piece of paper that lays crumpled on the

"Which you are so eager

a few steps back, trying to

"There are...laws..."

to my own ears, my voice is

throws his head

thing," he purrs, slowing striding closer to

until my back is against the wall. Two more steps, and he's looming over me, his

breath, try to process all

desire, panic...until everything distills down

around my throat, running

my spine, and

growls out, "and there's nothing that any law or any police officer can do to stop me. I walked in that prison knowing I

We control all of it. So, if I were you-" he presses his body closer to mine, his grip on my throat tightening ever so slightly, "-I'd be

now, realizing that my life as I knew it is...completely gone. With one blood test,

the daughter of a don, engaged-oh

way I'm getting

hand from my throat and pulling a handkerchief from his breast pocket. He offers it to me. Slowly, hesitant, I

to learn fast. I've notified your father. He's away on business, but he'll be back in two days, and he'll

as bad a reputation. as Aden Kenwood. God, what a contrast to my

shifts to Dad, who must be

cry harder, putting my face in

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