Forbidden Temptation My Mafia Fiance's Alpha Father (Brooklyn and Aden)

Chapter 47 Brooklyn

As Remington's family life explodes behind me, I follow Lucas and my other guard out of the room and into the hall.

The three of us hurry towards the door, confusion roiling in me. I had no idea that I would be the cause of so much strife.

Before I step out the door, though, I hear a little voice call out behind me.

"Wait!"

Logan is running down the stairs, a book in his little hands. He dashes to meet me at the door.

"I found this in my closet!" he says. "A long time ago."

He holds the book up to me, and I can see that it's a photo album. I take it from him gently and flip it open, shocked at what I see.

Images of my mother's wedding day to Alpha Remington.

And, wow... I'm in them.

"That's you, right?" Logan says, peeking at the pages of the book, pointing at the picture of my mother. "No. That was my mom. Thank you for showing it to me, Logan," I say softly, looking down at him gratefully.

I push it back towards him as the noise escalates in the next room.

"No, you can keep it," Logan says, smiling up at me. "And maybe, when you come back, you can bring me a present."

He gives me a big, mischievous smile, and I can't stop myself from laughing. Kids are resilient.

"A fair trade," I tell him and then jerk up at the sound of a crash I hear from the sitting room.

"You'd better go," he says, nodding at me.

"Will you be okay, though?" I ask.

"Sure," he says, grinning at me with confidence. "This happens all the time."

I hesitate.

"Miss," one of my guards says, again tugging at my arm.

"Okay," I say, following my guard. "I'll be back, Logan. I promise."

Logan doesn't look concerned. "With a present," he says, and smiles again.

As I sit in the car on the way home, I clutch the photo album in my hands, not yet ready to explore it. What else will I find inside?

Aden is waiting for me as I come back into the house, almost like he's been waiting there the whole time. "That was a fast family dinner." He smirks at me as he leans against the wall in the entryway.

I glare at him, taking off my coat and handing it to the waiting housekeeper. "Why didn't you tell me I had a stepmom?"

Aden shrugs. "I wanted you to have the pleasure of getting to know Louisa Remington all on your own. Tell me, how long did it take her to kick you out? Five minutes? Ten?"

"More like three." I wrap my arms around myself, the photo album pressed against my chest. I turn

towards the staircase before he can notice the album in my hands.

I don't want to share it yet. Not with anyone. Right now, this is just for me.

"Dinner in twenty minutes," Aden calls after me as I head up the stairs. "Considering Remington didn't feed you.

I nod, but don't look back at him as I climb.

When I'm alone in my room, I sit on my bed and page through the album. It's shocking to me how much is familiar and how much is a mystery.

I'm just a toddler in the pictures, 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.

Then, there's 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. I can see they are pleased by my attachment to them-to him.

Then another, with 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 suppose it really was a love match, back then-my father and my mother. They had me first, and even though he could have just pushed her aside for someone else, he had married her, recognized me officially as his daughter.

My lips begin to tremble as I look through picture after picture of my parents' joy, their love for me. I feel shame that I don't remember any of it-

What must it have been like, just a few weeks ago, for my father to walk into that room to see me again- his little girl and see that I had no idea who he was? That I had completely forgotten him?

I fall back against my pillows, tears slipping down my cheeks. I know it's not my fault—I was just a little

kid. But I feel absolutely rotten. I must have broken his heart into a million pieces.

I stare at the album-closed, now, on my duvet-and wonder what changed in her life to make my mother leave.

To make her never speak to Remington ever again.

What made her go from that day, when she was so happy, to deciding to flee with me, to leave it all behind.

And I can't help but wonder if it will all be the same for me.