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Wren must see the distaste on my face, because she flinches. “I’m not saying it’s gonna happen overnight. But we owe it to our son to try.” She takes a deep, steadying breath. “We owe it to Bee, too. She would have wanted us to get along.”
She wanted more for us. But instead of saying as much, I just nod. “We’re getting along now.”
Wren just frowns. “I’ve been back for barely twenty-eight hours and I’ve been sleeping for twenty-four of them. Besides, we haven’t actually talked about anything. Properly.”
“And talking is important to you?”
“I’ve tried sweeping things under the rug before. Didn’t really work out.” I cock my head to the side curiously and she blushes and looks towards the pierogi. “William wasn’t too big on the whole ‘communication’ thing. I mean, he talked a lot; there just wasn’t very much room for me to speak.”
I scowl. “Sounds like a prize.”
She shrugs. “Most rich, powerful men have a hard time realizing that other people’s opinions matter as much as their own.”
“Ouch. Point taken.”
She smiles guiltily. “That’s just been my experience. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Present company included?”
“What do you think?” she asks, fixing me with a scowl to match mine.
I snort. “Fine. I’ll do my best to communicate with you.”
“That includes listening, you know.” She hesitates, then adds, “It also requires compromise.”
I lean in close so there’s no mistaking what I’m about to say. “When it comes to your safety, I’m afraid I’m not compromising on that. Nor will I apologize for it. Especially now that we have two enemies to deal with.”
Her forehead scrunches up tight with worry. “Are you really gonna take on both the Italians and the Irish?”
“Yes,” I snarl. “And I’m going to win.”
“Cian and whoever he’s working with will?—”
I stiffen at the mention of that bastard’s name and Wren falls silent. I still haven’t worked out my frustration over the kidnapping. After a good night’s sleep, I may need to rail on a punching bag with the fucker’s face glued to it.
“There’s no ‘whoever.’ Cian is the don. He’s the one who calls the shots. He’s the one who will pay the price.”
She shakes her head adamantly. “That’s not exactly true. Apparently, his brother made a deal with the devil and?—”
“Enough. We don’t need to discuss this now.”
“Don’t you want to know what happened to me in captivity?” Wren asks with a puzzled double-take.
“Not if it means humanizing that bastard.”
Her eyebrows hit the ceiling of her forehead. “You literally just promised you would listen.”
Just goes to show: no good deed goes unpunished. “And I will. But first, I need you to rest, recover, eat. Liza mentioned that your pressure was too high for her liking. You need to keep stress levels to a minimum—which means staying away from subjects that cause it to spike. We’ll talk about everything when the time is right, but that time is not now. For now, I need you to take care of yourself and the baby.”
She nods reluctantly. “Alright.”
Then I pull out her cell phone and pass it to her. “Syrah’s been texting you all week. I had to impersonate you a few times to assure her that everything was alright. She’s pretty damn suspicious, though. A phone call might help calm her down.”
Wren looks down at the phone with a mournful sigh. “I have no idea what to say to her.”
“As far as she knows, you’ve been sick the last few weeks and the doctor has confined you to bed rest. Because of your low immunity, you couldn’t be exposed to too many people, which is the reason I gave her for why she couldn’t visit you.”
“And what about phone conversations?”
