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.

one that I had chosen for my own wedding. Well...the one Aden

an intentional choice, remembering that none of the dresses selected for me looked

her hair tightly pulled back so as not to distract from her severe expression

about this noble-and am I imagining it? A

thoughts are interrupted by a single word that makes me jump

"Brooklyn."

him standing at the door, his feet set wide

photo album languidly, holding

bored." I shrug. "You can't expect

and a little smile tugs at my lips as I hear

I do love to

clenching his mouth closed after he utters my name, apparently needing

smile grow. "You're not to come down

give him a fake little pout, seeing how far I

here," I say, turning my attention back to the wedding album. "For instance," I say, my voice light, "I had no idea you'd consent to get married in just a linen shirt

QUMS

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

he stares at the album. "I haven't looked at this in years..." he says quietly, surprised into a

reverence.

have a moment to study

face is lined with years of worry-perhaps more worry than most men his age. He carries a lot, I know, but...

he need to come down here to yell at me for looking through photo albums? What harm, really, was I

all of the worry, the constant need for control,

for control that, indeed, results

eyes flick back to the photo album, wondering if there

"Did you love her?"

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

that glare

my question, just tosses the album back