"Mom and Dad, I'm back." His handsome face, refined by time, had gained a touch of maturity without losing its allure.
A magnetic voice, akin to a cello.
"Why did you come back so late?" Evelyn Sherman stepped forward with concern, reaching out to touch his somewhat chilly arm. As she got closer, she caught the scent of cigarette smoke on him and frowned.
His body temperature was so cold, and he smelled of cigarettes. Had he been standing outside by himself, exposed to the wind again?
How long would he keep torturing himself?
"Damian, if you really miss her..."
Evelyn was just about to speak when she heard footsteps at the stairway.
Turning her head, she saw Harrison Yale holding Emma Aiden, with Baby Yale in tow—barely a year old and just learning to walk.
The little buddy had an exquisitely handsome face; his eyes hadn't fully opened, yet the cleverness inherited from his parents was already evident at the corners of his eyes. Clearly, he was a sharp little scoundrel.
