Page 51 of Gilded Saint

“And you thought that meant he wouldn’t expect you to marry?”

“I assumed too much,” I admit.

I lived a storybook life until the fairytale darkened.

“It’s natural for children to believe their parents are heroes. We always want to see the best in our family.”

“What about you? What are your parents like?”

His lips turn up on the corners, and there’s warmth in his expression. “They were great. They were heroes. True-to-life heroes. My mom and my dad.”

“Were?”

“Yeah.” He swallows as if he’s reining in emotion. “They passed away a long time ago.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“What happened? Did they die together?”

“I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”

I study him, wondering if they really died long ago. “Were you raised in the syndicate?”

He grins. “What do you think the syndicate is? You married into it, but you haven’t asked any questions.”

“I just…” Once again, I’ve been foolish. And complicit, behaving like father would have wanted and assuming the business wouldn’t be discussed with a woman. “I assumed it was…is…a group like the Lupi Grigi.”

“It’s more of an alliance of powerful individuals with influence around the world. It’s a collective, if you will.”

“And you weren’t born into it?”

“No.” He grins. “I was hired into it. I negotiate deals. Get good prices.”

“You’re the arms dealer.”

“That’s right. So you do know what I do.”

“I heard, but…”

“Do you have an issue with criminal organizations?”

“What do you mean?”

“Morally. Did you have a problem with your family when you discovered what they do?”

“They’re not all bad,” I say, but I can’t meet his gaze when I say it. “They help keep peace and order. And the drugs and whatever else…” I risk a glance up. “I’m really not sure what else they do. But I hated how they treated Scarlet. How they treat women. Like we’re a commodity. I can’t stand that. I don’t want to go back to that.”

“You won’t have to.” He says it with conviction. “But I find it interesting you jumped to another situation without knowing much at all about it.”

I exhale, considering my hasty actions.

“It’s okay,” he says in a low, soothing tone. “It’s an observation. We all have moments in life when we leap before looking. It’s something we especially do when we’re young.”

“You jumped without looking?”

“I took a job within the syndicate.” He rubs a hand through his hair, smiling.

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