Forbidden Temptation My Mafia Fiance's Alpha Father

Chapter 22

Chapter 22 Brooklyn

I spend a restless night in my new room. When the clock reads 7:00a.m., a knock comes at my door and it opens without waiting for a response. I glare and make a mental note to somehow get a lock.

"Ah! You're awake." The same woman who dressed me last night bustles into the room. "You're already late, my dear."

"Seven?" I ask, looking at the clock again. "Seven is late?"

"The household starts at five," she says, coming over and starting to make the bed while I'm still in it. When I head for the door in my pajamas, she makes a small noise of warning. I look back at her. "You'll want to change, my dear," she says. "This house dresses for its meals."

***

No one is in the hall when, dressed in tight fawn-colored pants and a silky green sweater, I walk down the stairs. I hear some noise at the end of the hallway and push through the door there.

I blink in surprise as I suddenly find myself in a gigantic kitchen filled with people. There are mismatched tables scattered all around and, behind a low wall, a restaurant-sized cooking range. From it wafts the scent of breakfast foods-sharp with onions and rich with butter.

My stomach growls, and Lena paws at me a bit.

"Brooklyn!" Hudson says, spotting me from across the room. His face lights up. I can't help returning his smile, he's so cute and genuine.

eyes scanning the busy room as I hurry

and sitting back down in his place at a small

say honestly, when was the last time I ate-but my stomach answers for me, giving a

as I sit. "Good, we'll get you something." He raises a hand to

suits drinking tiny cups of espresso, guards pass with guns -big

a wolf shifter. Something about that makes me feel more comfortable. I didn't grow up with a pack, and even though this isn't a pack, either, there's a "pack" feeling to it that warms

in what is clearly a

in here," I say,

around and shrugs.

the cooking area carrying a big plate of food. I stare at the long white butcher's apron wrapped around his waist,

I'm biting my lower lip while I look at him, I quickly spit it out and close my mouth. "Good morning, Brooklyn," Aden says, setting the plate in front of me. Shocked, I look back and forth from him to the plate, noting that his apron is spotted

plate, scrambled eggs sit next to sausage and

a buttered slice of

whip my head up to see that he's

Truly, I am surprised.

cook his own breakfast," Aden says, glancing around the room with

nod, and he looks up at his dad. "She

his eyes to a gigantic vintage Gaggia Orione espresso