Forbidden Temptation My Mafia Fiance's Alpha Father

Chapter 78

Chapter 78

Brooklyn

Instead, I move to the opposite side of the room, to where the photo albums are.

Some of them are very old-a hundred years or more, even.

The academic in me wants to explore those early photographs, but instead I reach for the newer bindings farther down, hoping for some information about Hudson and his upbringing.

I take a few volumes over to the little chair, flipping through.

I smile, recognizing Hudson's face in a few of the first photos, but then frown when I realize that they're too old-grainy old photos, with fashion from the 1980s...

I blink, shocked, realizing that these must be pictures of Aden when he was a child.

Fascinated, I flip through, looking at the people who must have been his mother and father, his family. His original pack.

I quickly flip to the front of the book where I find a picture of a beautiful, dark-haired woman, who is happily caressing her pregnant belly.

This, I'm sure, must be Aden's mother. I study her face for a resemblance to her but frown when I can't find it.

Aden's looks, like Hudson's, must likewise come from his father.

Hoping for pictures of Hudson as a child, I put this album down and pick up the next one. I'm shocked, when I flip it open, to see that it's actually Aden's wedding album.

Slowly, I flip through the photos and take in all the details of their beautiful Italian wedding.

It looks terribly romantic, situated at a beautiful vineyard, the couple's private table set up under a wide- branching olive tree.

There is a photograph, right at the beginning, of the beautiful bride, her stunning face quite serious as she looks directly into the camera.

and clinging the opposite of the one that I had chosen for my own wedding.

remembering that none of the dresses selected for me looked anything like

again, her hair tightly pulled back so as not to distract from her severe expression as she raises her chin and looks proudly

her, curious about this noble-and

by a single word that makes me jump almost out of my

"Brooklyn."

my eyes to see him standing at the door, his feet set wide

close the photo album

shrug. "You can't expect

and a little smile tugs at my lips as

but I do love

utters my name, apparently needing a minute to rein in

smile grow. "You're not to come down to the basement. I

little pout, seeing

back to the wedding album. "For instance," I say, my voice light, "I had no idea you'd consent to

QUMS

and snatches the photo album out of my hand, glaring at me. Then,

stares at the album. "I haven't

reverence.

have a moment to study

most men his age. He carries a lot, I know, but... I wonder if he carries more

instance, did he need to come down here to yell at me

of the worry, the constant need for control, that consumes

worry and need for control that, indeed, results

to the photo album, wondering if there is perhaps

"Did you love her?"

ask it. Again, my mouth has run away with me-speaking my thoughts before I consider whether

eyes suddenly, that glare focused

just tosses the album back