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.

at me with

one of my guards says, again tugging at my

guard. “It was nice meeting you!” I call back to – wow, to my little brother.

too!” he says, waving to me

the way home, I clutch the photo album in my hands, not yet ready to open

as I come back into the house. “Well?” He asks, smirking at me as he leans

at him a little, taking off my coat and handing it to the waiting housekeeper. “Why didn’t you

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

album pressed against my chest. “I indicated that I recognized the sugar bowl and she…didn’t like that. Said I was stealing her

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

down at the little leather–bound book. “Of my mom’s wedding.”

twenty minutes,” he calls after me as I head up the

B

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Gifts

– Personal History–2

but don’t look back at him as

through the album. It’s shocking to me, how much is

how precious I was to my father on this

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 father feeding me a piece of wedding cake, laughing as I get 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 share it with the woman he loved as well as his child.

I

had me first and, even though he could have just pushed her aside for someone else,