Forbidden Temptation My Mafia Fiance's Alpha Father

Chapter 83 Chapter 83 Brooklyn I'm not sure what to do.

I'm sitting across from Colsen, the youngest up and comer in the drug trade.

The one who I was told tried to havekilled.

And I had no idea he was this handsome.

"I have heard of you. And I have to say, it has not all been good things." "Oh, con," he says, cocking his head to the side. "It can't have been all bad." I raise an eyebrow at him letting him know that, yeah. It's all been bad.

"What?" he says, joking. "Nobody told you about my striking good looks or my sense of style?" I shake my head slowly, fighting the smile on my lips. I can't help it-he's terribly charming.

"Well," he says, givinga sexy half-smile. "Now you know." Colsen catches the eye of a waiter and holds up a hand. "Two shots of tequila," he says.

"What-" I say, my eyes following the waiter as he goes. "No, I can't-" "Oh, con, Brooklyn," Colsen says, leaning back in his chair.

"Relax. I can tell you've just had the surprise of your life. You need a little something to settle the nerves." The waiter returns, and Colsen takes the glasses him, sliding him a folded bill and giving him a wink.

I can tell by the waiter's pleasure that it's a nice tip.

I hesitate, then take the glass from his hand. The truth is, I could use a little bit of a relaxing right now.

If I'm the unwitting bachelorette in my father's little setup, then I'm not sure I want to do it sober.

"Bottoms up," I say, taking the loff the edge of the glass and holding it up to toast Colsen.

He does the same, and then watchesslowly lick the salt from the rim of the glass and toss my shot back before doing the same.

The tequila is sharp in my throat, and I can't help it as my whole body shudders.

I can hear Colsen laugh at me.

"The lime," he says. "Bite the lime." I do, and, indeed, it brings srelief, the acid of the lchasing away the sharpness of the tequila on my tongue.

I laugh as I open my eyes again, meeting Colsen's smile with my own. He gestures to the waiter again, ordering another round, and I lean back in my chair, letting him.

I'm a little surprised at myself, then-a feeling that's becoming oddly more familiar as the weeks pass. The Brooklyn of a few weeks ago would have run screaming when she found out that she was doing shots of tequila with the wunderkind head of a mafia organization.

With Aden's worst enemy.

But Brooklyn of today? Honestly, I'm kind of enjoying myself.

"See?" Colsen says, leaning closer to me. "You're already more relaxed." "You're right," I murmur, looking around at all of the people in the circle at all of my suitors, apparently. The waiter comes and delivers our second shot of tequila. This time, it's Colsen's turn to introduce the toast.

"To Brooklyn," he says, raising his glass. I smile and raise mine along with him. "The most eligible bachelorette of the city's underworld.

He winks.

"Too bad she's already got a rock the size of a golf ball on her hand. More's the pity for the rest of us." When we're finished, I settle back in my chair, leaning a little closer to Colsen so that we can talk quietly.

"So," I say, relaxed, looking at him Pelkon from beneath half-lidded eyes. "How did a nice boy get mixed up in organized crime, anyway? Were you born to it, too?" "Nah," he says, smiling atindulgently and leaning in.

I find myself paying rapt attention to Colsen's story for the next half hour.

He's really really interesting. A self-made guy, climbing up through the ranks with nothing but sheer will, determination, and cleverness.

V He was orphaned young, his pack wiped out, so he had to make his own way in the world.

Despite myself, I'm impressed.

Before all of this I had thought I liked the Prince Charming types.

But as I listen to Colsen and let my eyes rove over his muscles and his tattoos...I wonder if my tastes are changing.

My mind flashes-unwillingly-to Aden. He doesn't have any tattoos, or at least, none that I can see. But otherwise, these two are pretty similar...

dismiss the thought, bringing my attention back to Colsen.

His words falter for a moment as his eyes flash to my front teeth pressed lightly against the red flesh of my mouth.

Dammit, I think. I like that. I like that, maybe, a little too much.

"What the hell is going on here!?" I gasp and jump in my seat, looking up at the fire-lit person standing in front of me.

I realize that it's Hudson standing there his shirtless form a little sweaty from all the volleyball. "Hudson," I say, sitting up straight.

"Con, Brooklyn," he says grabbing my arm and pullingup from F my seat "ng." "Hey, man, Colsen says, frowning and standing up. "We were just talking-" "Whatever," Hudson murmurs, draggingforward.

Shocked, I let him pull me, glancing back at Colsen.

"Hudson," I say, pulling against the hand wrapped around my upper arm. "Letgo." "No, Brooklyn," he says, still pissed off. "Do you even know who that was? Who were you talking to?" "It's just Colsen," I try.

"Just Colsen?" Hudson repeats, whirling on me.

I look around, embarrassed to see that everyone is staring at usd open my mouth to respond but Hudson keeps going. "Just Colsen?" he says. "My dad's greatest enemy? The guy who tried to kill us?" My mouth just hangs open-I honestly don't know what to say.

"You will release my daughter's arm, Mr. Kenwood," a voice says, and turn my head to see my father standing there. Hudson grits his teeth and doesn't release me.

"Thank you for the lovely evening," he bites out towards my father. "But we'll be going now." My father doesn't say a word. He just looks, again, at Hudson's hand on me.

Hudson hesitates, and then drops my arm.

"Con, Brooklyn," Hudson says, not looking atand storming off towards our car. "We're leaving." I glance after him and then back at my father, torn.

"You have a lot of explaining to do, you know," I tell my father. "But thank you for a nice evening." Then, I hurry after Hudson, our guards following after us.

As I reach the car, just as I'm about to climb in, I take a moment to glance back at the beach. Colsen is standing there, right where I left him, watching me. He raises one hand in farewell.