Roman Atwood Mom Novels & Stories

An older woman says as she approaches Roman taking him in for a hug. This must be Roman’s mother, the resemblance was uncanny. They had the same midnight blue eyes that would hypnotise anyone, however she appeared a lot smaller. I would guess five foot three. An older man stepped from behind the woman, he was a lot taller in height, possibly six foot. “Better late than never I suppose” he said as he shook Roman’s hand, leaning in and giving him a pat on the back. “Mom, Dad…nice to see you too!” Roman replied sarcastically.

“I understand how you feel. When I came here, I had a son. He's with my mother now, and I go to see him from time to time. Even though I love freedom, I can't help but admit Roman Adams was a blessing to me.” I raised an eyebrow, my tears forgotten. “What do you mean?” “He's in charge of my son's education. My mother is back at home, she never lacks. Our bills are paid. I hate to admit it, but I'm grateful to one of the most hated men in Cleveland.” I was too stunned to utter a word. Roman Adams didn't look like the kind of man that could do a good deed. With the scar on his face, his mask and the way and manner at which he barked orders at his men, I would've never imagined that he had what

One year of becoming someone I never knew I could be—her mom. I slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to wake Roman. He’d been up half the night with me, stringing pastel balloons and building an arch that nearly defied physics. He’d been so determined that it looked perfect. Typical Roman Wolfe—business mogul, CEO, perfectionist, and now, the most dedicated father I’d ever seen.

“And yours.” I frowned. “What about them.” “Carter Romano and Fiona Adams.” He paused. “There was a history there. Before my parents were married.” I stared at him. “Your mother and my father,” I said carefully. “Yes.” I sat with that for a moment. Carter Romano and Fiona Adams. My quiet, careful, deliberately invisible mother and the face of the Romano empire. I tried to put those two things together and found that the picture they made was not as impossible as it should have been.

She looked so happy. "Mom?" I said. I was still holding one of Roman’s letters behind my back. "Scarlett! You’re up early," she said. She patted the chair next to her. "Come sit. We need to talk about the baby's room colors." "I don't care about colors, Mom," I said. I walked right up to her. "I found Roman’s letters. The ones he wrote from Switzerland." My mom stopped rubbing her stomach. Her face went very still. "Letters? What letters?"

Atwood. "Looks like it," she agreed. Her hand brushed mine as we scrolled through the information, the way she connected the dots was impressive. "Roanne, you're..." I struggled for words, my usual eloquence shredded by what she was able to gather. "You're incredible." She blushed, her face tinting with shades of delicious red. "He was in some meetings, he was in the club." "Yes, I know, I saw him." I felt the anger sip within me. Damn Junior Atwood, did his father know?

Dark hair, green eyes, tattoos that I needed to trace with my tongue… Now, I stood in the living room, staring at my mum with my lips slightly parted in shock as she dropped the biggest bomb of the century on me. “Roman will be coming over to take care of you for the weekend. Can't trust you alone after you decided to cause a fire last time.” Her brows were furrowed as she checked her bag for her lipstick. My throat dried and my fingers began to dig into the cushion. “Mum, seriously? You're leaving me here with him so you can go hangout with Uncle Bill?” “Your father, Hazel. Are we not over this?” She looked up at me and I looked away, biting down hard on my lip. “What's the problem anyways?

They could listen to them and determine what their plan was. They looked at how Kelly walked around the room touching every piece of furniture in the room with an excited expression. He went from the coffee table to the sofa at the far end of the room. The sofa was made of animal skin and it was simply too cozy to lie on. Maya loved to sleep there every time she came to visit Robert. Theo had even said that no one has ever been allowed to sit on it or get near that sofa because it was the only memory Ashton had of his parents.

She wanted to mourn silently and didn't want to be disturbed by useless things that were said or noticed by the public. "I am Katerina Romano, the only daughter of the deceased Eduardo Romano," she began. Her tears began falling from her eyes nonstop no matter how much she wiped it away. "My dad is a very generous and loving person. He was my first ultimate fan when I started painting, he was my teacher during my tough times in the company, he was always there for me when I needed him."

Or maybe her words hit a place. "You destroyed our lives !" She added. I walked forward, "Mom." I said quietly but she didn't seem to listen. My dad opened his eyes, pain reflected off them as he wrapped his hand around her wrist, stopping her, "Amanda stop." She pulled her hands away, "Stop ? Really ? You want me to stop ? Just make me understand, for god's sake make me understand how you were able to do this to your own blood, how ?" I was about to try and stop her again, i hated seeing her like this, but my eyes traveled to the door and saw Roman standing there. His eyes flicked from them to me, i nodded for him to enter.