Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance
Chapter 583

After a flurry of snapshots, Anya trotted over to Aunt Molly and Uncle Chad with a couple of puffy winter coats in tow. Chad was dressed okay, but Molly was shivering so badly, you'd think chicken skin was back in fashion.

Mia was about to step forward when she suddenly furrowed her brow, a sense of crisis causing her to instinctively shield her son's cherubic cheeks. She turned to survey the park's casual visitors.

The park was alive with the scent of blooming plum blossoms, carrying a subtle fragrance that drew in visitors with cameras eager to capture the beauty.

Mia's eyes narrowed with unusual seriousness and caution. She wrapped her son's face in a small blanket and used her body as a shield, making sure not even his little arms were exposed. After making a full round of the park and not spotting anything suspicious, she wondered if she was just being paranoid. That sense of being watched had been unmistakable, though. "Aunt Mia, what are you doing?" Anya asked, running up to her.

Mia's brow was still knotted with concern as she gave the nearby crowd another scan. They continued snapping photos, unfazed by her scrutinizing gaze.

Was she overthinking it?

"Aunt Mia?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Mia replied, trying to reassure herself.

She couldn't decide if she was just being overly anxious or if someone was really spying on them.

To be safe, Mia decided to call her husband to pick them up. But with her son bundled up so thickly, she couldn't manage to free a hand to reach for her phone. "Anya, can you grab my phone from my bag? Call your Uncle Andre, see if he's not too busy. If he's free, maybe he can come pick us up at the park. I'm beat, and Henry's getting sleepy."

Anya obediently responded with an affirmative and proceeded to do as asked.

Andre didn't take long to respond after receiving his wife's call. "Stay put, I'll be there shortly," he said decisively.

Within a quarter of an hour, Andre appeared at the park.

"Mia," he called out to her from a distance.

As he approached, he took their sleeping bundle from Mia's arms. The little one's cheeks were still toasty warm. "Hon, hold him for a bit, will you? I need to check something out." Mia needed to investigate for peace of mind.

Handing over their child, Mia walked towards the hillside adorned with plum blossoms.

Molly was hugging a paper cup of hot water, complaining, "I'm dragging my comforter here for tomorrow's bridal shoot. I've burnt more calories shivering today than running a marathon."

Upon seeing Andre, she straightened up and behaved herself. "Andre, what brings you here?" she asked.

The photographer, realizing who he was taking wedding photos for, was astounded.

"Andre, the bride is your sister?" he blurted out, amazed to learn the true identity of his clients.

The woman standing behind with the baby was Mrs. Cedillo? And that little tot... was Andre's kid!

Andre gave a slight nod, acknowledging the connection.

"Cold much?" he asked Molly.

Molly, intimidated, shook her head denying any discomfort.

Chad just looked on, bemused.

Andre carried an air of command that mystified everyone, reminiscent of an emperor, demanding respect and instilling an involuntary fear in his subjects.

The photographer, driven by curiosity, asked Andre, "Which international team did you hire for your wedding shoot?"

Andre frowned slightly, and the photographer quickly added, "You don't have to answer."

The child in Andre's arms stirred, and he shifted his hold to make his son more comfortable. "We didn't have one."

There were many moments that he and his wife had left unphotographed, lost in time.

Turning his head, he watched Mia's graceful figure weaving through the plum blossoms on the hill.

Mia paused to pluck a blossom, casually playing with it.

Most visitors were busy taking pictures with their friends, unconcerned with stealthy photography. Those with tripods were obviously not the sneaky types - too cumbersome for a quick getaway. It was only the lightly equipped, seemingly trying to blend in, that caught Mia's attention.

The would-be spy must have realized Mia had spotted him, but he wasn't sure if she could identify him. As she approached, he became cautious. A young woman boldly confronting him?

Yet Mia, who seemed like a "young girl" to outsiders, pinpointed his location without error, and the man's eyes flashed with wariness.

"Are you a professional photographer?" she asked, looking at his camera.

"Amateur," he replied.

"But you look quite the pro," Mia countered. "May I see your camera? I've been thinking of getting one myself."

The man refused, packed up his camera, and turned to leave.

Mia immediately gave chase.

Andre, still holding his son, watched his wife talking to a stranger and then running after him.

The plum blossom hill had many exits, and Mia followed the man down one side just as quickly as he had disappeared up the other.

The man broke into a run with Mia on his heels. "Stop! Who are you?"

They reached the crowded plaza where people were admiring the New Year's lanterns. The space was alive with visitors and running, laughing children.

The man vanished among the crowd, and after circling the plaza, Mia realized he was gone.

Disheartened, she puffed out her cheeks and exhaled. Her body wasn't used to such sudden exertion.

Knowing the man was lost, she turned to find her husband and son.

Jogging back, her cheeks flushed from the cold and exertion, she looked to Andre.

"Who were you chasing?" he inquired.

Taking her purse from Anya, Mia suggested, "Let's go home, I'll explain on the way."

With just a quick word to Anya, Mia linked arms with her husband and they set off down the leaf-strewn path.

On the way, Mia began, "Honey, I think someone was taking photos of me and Henry."

Andre's brows furrowed. "The man you were chasing just now?"

"Hmm, I'm suspicious. The moment he caught me eyeing his camera, he bolted. I went after him, but he gave me the slip," Mia admitted, frustration lacing her tone. Although she conceded that she wasn't as spry as she once was, the fact that the man could sprint away so swiftly, blend into the crowd, and vanish into thin air left her feeling uneasy.

Back in the car, Mia settled into the backseat, cradling her child in her arms. Andre didn't start the car right away; instead, he stared pensively through the windshield. "Could it be Tom?" he mused aloud.