Quinn looked from him to Max and back.“Why doesn’t he have the same accent as you?”
The boss laughed.“He worked very hard to eliminate his accent so he could pose as an American.”
“Well, he did an amazing job of it.I never suspected a thing.”
“He is one of my best men.”
She saw the fondness on his face when he looked at Max.Truthfully, Quinn hadn’t known what to expect when Max had told her about his real identity as well as the man he called boss.Her preconceived ideas revolved around mafia movies like The Godfather and Scarface, so she didn’t have a good opinion about the lifestyle.Now, however, she saw the love on Gaston’s face for a man he raised after his sons were killed.Around the room was camaraderie.Smiles.Family.The chateau was aptly named.
Gaston’s face turned somber.“You were attacked by our enemy, and for that I’m deeply sorry.”
“You’re not responsible for his actions.”The words echoed through her head, and she realized she meant it.It wasn’t fair to blame Max for something someone else did.She looked up at Max.“I mean that.”
Max rubbed his hand up and down her back, in a comforting gesture and she knew that he understood.Ruthless this family may be.Dangerous, probably.After all, she didn’t know the extent of their criminal activities, and she probably never wanted to know.But she couldn’t help but remember that she’d been attacked by a law-abidinggoodman, who turned out to be not so good at all.So maybe, things were never black and white.If people could be shades of grey, then so could perception.Ideology.Family.If she married Max, this would be her life.These would be her people.
Digging deep, she pondered her own morals.Her own beliefs.What did she care about?What high ground did she walk upon?Could she cherry-pick what was right and what was wrong?Again, black and white with areas in between.Max admitted he wasn’t a good man, and maybe he wasn’t, but what did it matter?Everyone had bodies in the closet.
“This is what he did,” she said, and lowered her shirt only low enough to reveal the top of the S carved into her skin.Two stitches remained at the top, where the initial cut had been made, but the curvature was scabbed over.
“Mon Dieu!” Gaston muttered.“Ce sont des putains d’animaux.”
“They are fucking animals,” Max translated.
She nodded.“They are.Your enemies are now mine.”
Gaston took her hands and kissed the back of each one.“Welcome to the family.Now, let’s get you two married.Oui?”
Chapter Thirteen
Two hours later, hewas a married man.
Max stared at his wife, unable to comprehend what had been accomplished in such a short amount of time.It was amazing that when the French Godfather snapped his fingers, many people jumped into action.A dress was delivered.Hair, make-up, a photographer.Someone streamed the wedding march and Gaston walked her down the impromptu aisle.
Quinn was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.When it was time to recite vows, he had never meant anything more.They signed the marriage certificate, and she was now Quinn Chevalier.
Champagne corks were popped and musicians arrived.How long they danced he didn’t know, but it was magic.Even to a cynic like himself.The look in her eyes, staring as if he was spun gold, melted his heart.He slid his fingers reverently along her jaw, holding her as he kissed her.People cheered and cat-call whistles erupted.He wanted to leave right away, but knew he had to be patient.Gaston had assembled all this for him and Quinn.This was the best-case scenario he could’ve imagined, with his boss accepting Quinn and she joining the family.
