Forbidden Temptation My Mafia Fiance's Alpha Father

Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Brooklyn

Aden was smart to butter me up with a new horse.

Because now, as I sit in the back seat of the black car, all by myself, I look up at the stone mansion in front of me and grimace.

I am not looking forward to this. Dinner with my father, the man I barely knew existed.

The man I'm not sure I like very much at all, and who isn't sure he trusts me in return.

I know that there should probably be some curiosity in me, some desire to know more about my family and my heritage.

But honestly? Lennox Remington doesn't feel anything like my father. That, to me, will always be Stephen.

Aden sent two guards along with me and instructed them to stay by me at all times.

For protection, presumably. But also-I think-to be Aden's eyes and ears at the meeting.

Remington is his ally, but even the term "ally" in this underworld has some tenuous distrust built into it.

I begged Hudson to come with me, but Aden denied that, too.

Remington, apparently, wanted me all to himself.

Great. I was already feeling uncomfortable enough about this whole situation. But now, to go into it alone? This was definitely going to be a disaster.

of the car after they park and

step out and sigh, wishing I was anywhere else. The stables,

three of us troupe up the front steps to the house

he's my dad, if this is my house, shouldn't I be able to

door, giving us a kind smile before pulling the door all the way open

in my tracks. The guards almost

think. One

in response, staring

I'm totally

been here before, I suddenly realize. I know things about this

the corners, what things

rugs are familiar. A soft burnt orange, thick and plush underneath my feet. The arch that

filled with blue

I whisper, looking around as I slowly walk

says. "If you'll come with

I walk to the back of the room and push open the door to the kitchen. The avocado-green fridge and stove are exactly as I remember them. Except, I

footsteps

"Familiar, is it?"

the kitchen. I search his face, wide-eyed, not sure what

kitchen, as if lost in his

here," he says. "Your mother, the maids, or me. You always wanted to

of the pots and pans. Bang on them, or pretend you were

at him, bewildered. I was five when we went to live with Stephen; I should have had a

But why had it gone missing for

moment and then

he says. "I

still darting around

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