NovelFinishChapter 14 Chapter 14 Brooklyn He pauses at the door, still for a moment. Then, slowly, he turns.
"Hudson?" he asks, his eyes close upon me.
I nod vigorously. "Hudson, your son? He's..." I bite my lip, suddenly embarrassed. "He's my boyfriend." Aden laughs then-a real, shocked laugh. He wipes a hand down his face, shaking his head.
"My son Hudson is your boyfriend," he says, repeating my words and looking up at the ceiling in disbelief.
I nod again, biting my lip against the tiny white lie- he's not my boyfriend anymore, after all. But I'm desperate for this to work.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"Well, isn't that...serendipitous," he says.
Aden is still for a moment and then strides across the room, back towards me. When he gets to the lounge he grabsby the elbow, pullingto my feet, shakingso that I pay attention to his words. "Brooklyn, you little fool, don't you know who you are?" His voice is angry, as if frustrated by my incompetence.
"I'm-I'm-" My face is lost in confusion. I just told him who I am...
"Who you are, Brooklyn. Haven't you ever asked any questions about your mother? Your biological father?" He shakes my arm again as if trying to jog my memory.
My mouth falls open in shock, confusion. How did he know ephen's not my biological dad? Aden is standing close tonow, glaring down into my face.
My lower lip trembles traitorously, and I pull it into my mouth, desperate not to show weakness. His eyes flick to my mouth as I do so, watching the action. Slowly, he exhales and, for an instant, pullscloser.
The lengths of our bodies are pressed together, the heat from his seeping intoas my legs weaken and my core clenches.
What is this man doing to me? But then he letsgo.
"Brooklyn, your dad has been keeping secrets from you. The woman who owned that knife was Catalina O'Leary, the mistress of Lennox Remington." He looksup and down, crossing his arms. "We did a DNA test," he continues, "against a secure sample about an hour ago. Your nisn't Knox, it's Remington. Brooklyn Remington. And your father has been looking for you for a long time." I sink onto the couch, my breath leaving me. I stare into the distance, dazed.
Never-I had never really thought about the identity of my bi gical dad, never felt any need or desire to. There was one picture ofas a baby with my mother, standing next to a strange man, though I was never really curious. I have no idea where that photo went.
But could it be? My memories of my mother are of a bright, laughing woman, hair as red as mine.
How could she...? My mother? A mafia mistress? Me, the daughter of a don? Suddenly there's a piece of paper in front of my face. I take it from Aden's hand with shaking fingers and see the confirmation there.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmBlood sample from Patient A is a biological match for paternity with Patient B, identified as Lennox Remington. "This is...this is my blood?" I breathe, looking up at Aden. He nods down at me, serious.
"You're lucky I found you," he says.
I cback to myself a little at his words and glare at him.
Lucky enough to be harassed in a strip club, thrown over- someone's shoulder, and kidnapped? He's sof the irony in my expression and the corner of his mouth lifts, barely a smile.
"This is valuable information," Aden continues. "If Davis had been the one to find out, he'd be sending pieces of your DNA -maybe a finger to Remington et ransom. But Remington is my ally-I'll have you reunited with your father soon. In one piece."
I crumple the paper in my hands, tossing it to the ground. "DNA doesn't make a father. I don't want to be En: 'reunited' with a stranger." I stand up, trying to get out, but Aden blocks my way.
"You're in my world now, Brooklyn," he says. "And in this world, your DNA means more than anything. Family and pack mean more than anything.
And for me? It's personal." I look up at him, distracted from my mission to get to the door. "How the hell could this be personal for you? My DNA doesn't match yours, thank the goddess! I try to push past him, but he puts
out an arm to stop me, pullingagainst his chest so I can't go any farther. Then he wraps his fingers in my hair, tilting my head back, obligingto look up at him I force back a moan. "Because, the day she was born, Remington's daughter was ised to my first-born son."
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