After a pit stop in Vienna to pick up some of her things, Canaan and Quinn arrived in Las Vegas on a typically blistering hot summer afternoon.

Canaan was eager to see his brothers, to embrace them and thank them for the part they’d played in saving him and his friends.

But he was also filled with dread, knowing that nobody could blame the rest of the Titans if they despised Quinn and never accepted her, regardless of the fact that Canaan himself had forgiven her and, furthermore, fallen head over heels in love with her.

He hoped the contents of the briefcase at his feet could help to sway at least one of them.

The Titan Holdings’ Range Rover took the couple comfortably to Arroyo Place, where Atlas and Odin had gathered their families to welcome Canaan home.

The doormen at Arroyo tried to take all of Canaan and Quinn’s things, but Canaan insisted on keeping the briefcase; never letting it out of his sight.

On the elevator ride to the penthouse, Canaan noticed Quinn biting her bottom lip and shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m terrified, Canaan,” Quinn replied. “They’re going to hate me, and Atlas is probably going to defenestrate me.”

“How long have you been waiting to crowbar that word into a sentence?” Canaan chuckled.

Quinn breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ve never before had occasion,” she admitted.

Her accent drove Canaan wild, and the reflection of her backside in the mirror behind her made him want to push the emergency stop button and have her right there in the elevator.

He ignored his lust, however, and soon a “ding” announced their arrival atop the gleaming Arroyo Place tower. They both took a deep breath, Canaan kissed Quinn on the forehead, and they stepped out into the hallway.

Odin opened the door with a grin and Lea came toddling out behind him. “So pretty!” Lea exclaimed. “Princess!” She pointed at a blushing Quinn, and suddenly Quinn’s nerves dissipated as Piper stepped into the hallway, laughing at her daughter.

Atlas and Canaan shared an aggressive embrace, thumping their chests together like silverbacks and holding tight as the corridor filled with people. Clara was next, carrying Emmie, and Odin stood behind her, looking down as Abner II weaseled his way thought the maze of legs to greet the newcomer.

“You’re the pretty princess,” Quinn replied, bending down to Lea’s level. Lea reached out to touch Quinn’s hair, fascinated by the color and the curls.

Eventually, Canaan hugged everyone, Quinn was introduced all around, and the makeshift welcoming committee let the one-time Bulgarian fugitives come inside the condo.

After the typical small talk about their flight and the weather, Canaan stood and made an announcement.

“I have something in this case that Quinn insisted we bring along. It’s a gift, a way for us to say thank you for everything everyone here did for us, despite all your responsibilities.” Canaan pointed to little Callum, peacefully swinging in his Rock-N-Play. “Please, gather around the table.”

The adults encircled the dining room table as Canaan lay the briefcase in the middle of it and stepped aside to make way for Quinn.

“This is a small token of my—our— appreciation. They belong here.”

She spun the combination lock on the case and popped it open, with the contents facing her and away from everyone else. The assembled Titans leaned in for a closer look, but at first all they saw was Quinn pulling on a pair of white, silk gloves she pulled from a pocket in the lid.

She then unfolded a large black velvet cloth, stretching out any wrinkles before proceeding.

On the velvet she placed a book, a very old looking book, with a red cover bordered by a fanciful gold design. She carefully opened the cover and turned pages slowly until a picture of the Bard appeared, under a banner that read “Mr. William Shakespeare’s Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies.”

Odin broke into a smile as he stepped around Clara to get up close and personal with the First Folio on his dining room table.

He was speechless.

He bent down close enough to smell the paper, then looked up at Canaan, Quinn, and Clara, each in turn.

“If you don’t like it, we can…” Canaan began.

Odin spread his arms wide across the table. “No way in hell, Canaan. I may sleep with it tonight.”

“On the couch, you must mean,” Clara added.

“It gets, I should think, appreciably better,” Quinn said, pulling something heavy from the suitcase and setting it on the table.

A one-of-a-kind, complete, priceless, vellum-bound Gutenberg Bible.

Odin felt faint and had to sit down, pulling out a chair just in time.

“After it was pulled from the auction, I thought…I never…Canaan you’re going to give me a heart attack.”

“It’s yours,” Quinn said matter-of-factly. “It’s a peace offering, and I hope it stays in your family forever.”

“At what price,” Odin asked, his eyes glistening. “Our final bid was—”

Quinn cut him off. “The price of forgiveness. I have no right to ask, and the books are yours either way, but consider this an act of contrition. And if Canaan will allow me to, I’ll spend as much of the rest of his life as he’ll let me making amends and restitution.”

“I don’t know,” Piper countered. “He can’t take his eyes off you. I don’t think he needs any further convincing.”

Canaan blushed, everyone laughed, and Quinn accepted hugs from everyone. Atlas opened a bottle of champagne and the party moved back into the living room. Except for Odin, who remained transfixed by the books.

“How’s Nolan?” Atlas asked Canaan.

“Nolan went straight back to Salzburg, to Camilla and their baby. They were planning to stay with Richard and his wife a while, then Nolan said he wants to find the most remote island he can and disappear with his family. I think he’s finished with this life for good.”

“Speaking of islands, when do you suppose we’ll see Raven again?”

Canaan laughed. “Not for quite a while. She and Annalise were planning to meet in Tahiti for what Raven called ‘indefinite R&R’. She claimed she was turning off her phone, no laptop, just, as she put it, ‘sun, sand and sin’.”

“All on our dime, no doubt,” Atlas grumbled.

“That’s between Odin and the accounting department,” Canaan laughed.

Canaan eventually migrated back over to Odin, and joined him in admiring the books.

“I meant to ask Nolan; how did the two of you connect on the Royal Sands? What did you say to him?”

“Let me see if I remember it exactly,” Odin mused. “Nolan is a huge baseball fan. I made reference to a very angry baseball player, with sticky hands. Do you remember George Brett?”

Canaan shook his head and gave Odin a blank stare.

“Huge star in the ‘80s,” Odin continued. “Great hitter, played his entire career for the Royals. In one really famous game, he hit a home run against the Yankees. Their manager protested and said Brett had used too much pine tar on his bat, sticky stuff that helped players with their grip. The umpire agreed and called Brett out. Well, old George burst out of the dugout with murderous intentions. He was livid. I knew Nolan would remember that clip. I’m sure it’s on YouTube. Nobody has ever looked more pissed off. Then I made reference to the Venetian, but before it was the Venetian. Old Las Vegas.”

Canaan nodded his head. “They blew up the Sands to build the Venetian.”

Odin smiled. “Dude… these books… that girl… how wild is all of this?”

“And here you and Atlas sit, changing diapers and burping babies.”

The party went on into the night, three men as close as any brothers could be, with the women who loved them, and who they loved back, just as fiercely as any men ever loved any women.