Forbidden Temptation My Mafia Fiance's Alpha Father

Chapter 31

Chapter 31 Brooklyn

"You want me to do what!?" I all but shriek. Aden is lying flat on his back in the hallway outside my room, gritting his teeth in pain, struggling to get up.

For a second, I feel lost. It's disorienting to see him this way, so helpless. All I've known him as, so far, is the most dominant, powerful criminal I've ever met.

But right now, he is also impatient. Someone is approaching up the stairs, quickly.

"Just get me to your bedroom, NOW," Aden growls, nodding toward the open door of my room, just a few feet away.

I get a hold of myself, moving behind Aden and hooking my hands into his armpits. Then, I heave with all

my might, pulling him towards the open door. Aden is big, and strong, but I am strong, too. He pushes with his feet to speed us along, the best he can offer.

When he's fully in my room, he falls back against the carpet. I shut the door, then slide down the wall, exhausted, staring at him. He's lying on his back, breathing hard.

A few horrible minutes pass when I consider what the hell will happen to me if people discover the Mafia King's dead body in my room.

But, during those minutes, Aden's breath softens. The horrible, crinkled look of pain disappears, and his face takes on its normal lines. He's still sweaty and exhausted, but he was right. It passed.

"Are you...are you okay?" I venture after a few minutes of calm breathing.

he says, voice low, eyes still closed, like he's trying

going to tell me what's going on? Because an Alpha like you shouldn't

to a sitting position, his form imposing once again, then makes eye contact

sure he can tell by my face that I don't buy it. He shakes

he says, pushing the hair out of his eyes, "something that happens to me sometimes. It's been happening for the past couple

back against the door, putting

I say, my psychology degree taking over before I can stop

eyes shoot over to me, pure annoyance written all over

really severe they can present with the intensity of a heart attack."

know he's terrifying, I know he took me here against

them. "You know," I say, as gently as I can. "There are people

need to see a doctor."

internally, not daring to let

don't want to see a doctor," I offer,

lifts his head. "How could you possibly

lips, frustrated. "I am a trained therapist. I wouldn't think you'd forget that, considering it's how we

laughs a little. "That still doesn't answer my question," he

mental health condition" I try and explain, but he

me.

says again. And I should listen. My instinct is telling me to. But my training and my desire to help-push back against my instinct to follow his

louder laugh escapes him now, but it isn't real. He's doing it for show. "An anxiety disorder? A mental illness? Sissies make those up terms so they can