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 happens all

of my guards says,

you!” I call back to – wow, to my little

waving to me as I

the photo album in my hands, not yet ready to open and explore

asks, smirking at me

taking off my coat and handing it to the waiting housekeeper. “Why didn’t you tell me I had

have the pleasure of getting to know Tristin Alden all on

say, wrapping my arms around myself, the photo album pressed against my chest. “I indicated that I recognized the sugar bowl and she…didn’t like that. Said I was stealing her

Then, his

say softly, unwrapping my arms and looking down at the little leather–bound book. “Of my mom’s wedding.”

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

B

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Gifts

– Personal History–2

look back at him as I climb.

album. It’s shocking to me, how much is familiar and how much is

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

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,

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

I

had me first and, even though he could