Chapter 98
Instead, I move to the opposite side of the room, to where the photo books are. Some of them are very old – a hundred years or
more, even. The academic historian in me wants to explore those
early photographs, but instead I reach for the newer bindings further down, hoping for some information about Daniel and his
upbringing.
I take a few volumes over to the little chair, flipping through.
I smile, recognizing Daniel’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 Kent
when he was a child. Fascinated, I flip through, looking at the
people who must have been his mother and father, his family.
I quickly flip to the front of the book where I’m lucky enough to
find a picture of a beautiful, dark–haired woman, who is happily caressing her pregnant belly.
This, I’m sure, must be Kent’s mother. I study her face for a
resemblance to her but frown when I can’t find it. Kent’s looks, like
Daniel’s, must likewise come from his father.
Hoping for pictures of Daniel 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
Chapter 98
it’s actually Kent’s wedding album.
2/3
Slowly, I flip through the photos – black and white, surprisingly- 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. Her dress is long, lace, and clinging- the opposite of the
one that I had chosen for my own wedding.
Or, well. The one Kent had chosen for me. I wonder, passingly, if it
was an intentional choice, remembering that none of the dresses
selected for me looked anything like this..
I return my eyes to her face again, her hair tightly pulled back so
as not to distract from her severe expression as she raises her
chin and looks proudly at the camera.
I find myself quite moved by her, curious about this noble – and, am I imagining it? A bit melancholy? – mafia bride.
My thoughts are interrupted, though, by a single word that makes me jump almost out of my seat.
“Fay.” Kent’s tone is serious and disapproving as I raise my eyes to see him standing at the door, his feet set wide apart, hands in his pockets as he frowns at me. “I told you not to come down here.”
Chapter 98
3/3
I close the photo album languidly, holding his gaze. “Well, you
wouldn’t take me to the stable. I got bored.” I shrug a little. “You can’t expect a girl to stay in her room all day, can you?”
He glares at me, and a little smile tugs at my lips as I hear a rumble growing in his chest.
God, but I do love to piss him off.
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Gifts
Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father
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