“It’s the same one I received.I’ve checked and it’s authentic.”
Quinn places a hand on the desk as if to brace herself.“So...you’re telling me that’s my brother on the video?Not some complication of some technology who brought him back to life?”
“No, I’m fairly sure your brother is still breathing.I’ve been interrogating your father and he has shared some things about the fight your brother was in.By the looks of him, and the fact he’s holding up a message?I’d say there’s some truth to your father’s words.”
“I need to talk to him.”Quinn pins me with a look, resolution radiating from her.“I need to hear for myself what my father has to say.”
“I don’t think...”I start, but she cuts me off.
“Then don’t think because he’s my father and this is shit I’m wrapped in.Besides, I agreed to marry you and it’s a two-way street.Are we going to do this thing together or will it be like the sex we have where you’re always in control?”Her eyes widen.“I’m not saying I don’t like it during sex.I actually do...it’s just with everything else it should be a partnership.”
A sigh rips from me, and I rub the back of my neck.“I don’t simply ask questions, and people I interrogate don’t answer unless I...motivate them.”
She blinks slowly, and I expect her to judge and lash out, which she doesn’t.
Surprise hits me when she says, “Fine.Then I’d like to motivate my asshole father too because I need answers.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
–QUINN –
Married.I stare at Fiero who is talking to the priest.The man has a freaking priest on speed dial.It shows how little I know about Fiero Teun Reaux.Who the hell has a middle name like Teun?I definitely snorted a laugh when the priest pronounced his full name.
Floris muttered something about Dutch ancestors.Like I said, I know very little about the man.The man who is now my husband.I take a deep breath to let this little fact sink in.At least Cillian can’t force me to marry him anymore and kidnapping me means Fiero will be damn pissed.I’ve picked the lesser of two evils, or so it seems.
The priest leaves but another man strides in, carrying a bag.
“Who’s that?”I ask Floris, my brand-new brother-in-law.
Floris chuckles.“You’ll know soon enough.”
“Who’s going first?”the man asks.
I frown while the man places his bag on the table to drag a chair in place.My eyes bulge out of my head when I recognize the stuff he pulls from his bag.
“My wife will go first,” Fiero states.
