Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father

Gifts

Chapter 25 – Personal History–1

Willingly, I follow Jerome and my other guard out of the room and into the hall. The three of us scurry towards the door, guilt roiling in me to be the cause of so much strife. Before I step out the door, though, I hear a little voice call out behind me.

“Wait!” it says.

I turn to see Romulus running down the stairs, a little book in his hands. He dashes to meet me at the door. “I found this in my closet!” he says, “a long time ago!” He holds up the book to me and I can see that it’s a very small photo album. I take it from him gently and flip it open, shocked to see that it’s images of my mother’s wedding day –

And, oh my god – that I’m in them –

–

“That’s you, right?” Romulus says, peeking at the pages of the book, pointing at the picture of my mother.

“No,” I say softly. “That was my mom. Thank you for showing it to me, Romulus,” I say, looking down at him gratefully. I push it back towards him, as the noise escalates in the next room. I hope that some day I’ll be able to look through it more closely, but now, it definitely seems like time to go –

“No, I you can keep it,” Romulus says, smiling up at me. “And maybe, when you come back, you can bring me a present.” He gives me a big smile and I can’t stop myself from laughing.

“A fair trade,” I say and then jerk up, suddenly, at a crash I hear

“You’d better go,” he says, nodding at

“Will you be okay?” I ask, looking over his shoulder.

with confidence. “This

one of my guards says, again tugging at my

say, following my guard. “It was nice meeting you!” I call back

waving to me as

in my hands, not yet ready to open and explore it. What the hell was I going

He asks, smirking at me as he leans against the wall in the entry. “That was a fast little

off my coat and handing it to the waiting housekeeper. “Why

Tristin Alden all on your own. Tell me, how long

three,” I say, wrapping my arms around myself, the photo album pressed against my chest. “I indicated that I recognized the

laughs harder at that, shaking his head a little. Then, his eyes

say softly, unwrapping my arms and looking down at the little leather–bound book. “Of my

but thankfully he doesn’t push it. “Dinner in twenty minutes,” he calls after me as I head up the stairs.

B

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Gifts

25 –

don’t look back at him as

in my room, I sit on my bed and page through the album. It’s shocking to me, how

so I guess it makes sense that I don’t remember any of it, but even at a glance I can tell how precious I was to my father on this day. He had me standing at the altar with him as he said his vows to my mother, a hand on my little shoulder as I looked out to the crowd.

another photo of their first dance with me crying, my arms wrapped around his leg, unwilling to let go. Both of my parents are laughing in that one, pleased, I can see, by my attachment to them

icing all over my face. My heart sinks as I bear witness to the love on his face on that day, his happiness at being able to

I

They had me first and, even though he could have just