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Aleks shrugs. “Maybe he’s not really interested in fighting?”
I know Aleks is just brainstorming, just throwing shit at the wall to see what sticks… and yet this one does stick. It stays with me like a bad smell.
Wren had tried to make a case for Cian O’Gadhra not so long ago. She seemed to think that he wasn’t really as into this war as he claimed to be.
Is that what this is?
Or is there just something I’m not seeing?
Either way, I’m more determined than ever to make sure that Wren is taken care of should this war take a turn for the worse. “Listen, I need you to do me a favor.”
Aleks rolls his eyes like the drama queen he is. “I do you so many already—but okay, fine, go ahead.”
I’m not in the headspace for lighthearted banter. What I’m about to say is still sitting on my chest like a fucking boulder. “If things go south…”
“South?” he interrupts. “Hold up. What the fuck are you talking about? We’re winning this war, brother. We’re already on top.”
“For now.”
His mouth drops closer to the ground. “And what’s gonna change, dude?! We've got the Irish in retreat, hiding somewhere with their tails between their legs, and we’ve taken down four of the Italian hotspots, too. We got?—”
“It doesn’t matter,” I bark. “None of it does. They don’t need to take down all our businesses or safehouses to win—they just need to take me down. If they target me, then they make Wren and my son vulnerable.”
His throat bobs with a nervous swallow. “I get that you’re worried about them—I am, too—but?—”
“No. No buts. There is no room for ‘but.’ The whole fucking world knows she’s carrying my baby now. Neither Cian nor Vittorio have anything to lose. And this is war, yes—I know that as well as anyone. With war come casualties. But I will not allow those casualties to include my wife.”
It’s not until a slow smile spreads across my brother’s face that I realize what I just said. Wife.
“Is that where your head’s at?” he teases.
Oh, goddammit. He’s never gonna let this shit go.
I get up from behind my desk and walk towards the windows, hands clasped behind my back. “I misspoke.”
Aleks is on me like the irritating shadow I never asked for. “Did you now? I believe Dr. Freud had a name for that kind of ‘misspeaking.’”
“Leave it alone, Aleks.”
“Have you ever known me to leave anything alone ever in the history of the universe?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer his question before he’s nudging me with his shoulder. “Are you seriously thinking about putting a ring on it?”
I throw him a stony glare.
That’s enough—Aleks grins widely. “Fuck yeah.” He’s vibrating on the soles of his feet with giddiness and an ear-to-ear smile that, against all odds, makes my own mouth twitch in that same direction.
“It’s not gonna happen any time soon,” I growl, wiping my face clean again. “So don’t go shooting your mouth off about this to anyone else.”
“Who would I tell?” he asks innocently.
“You know damn well who.”
His smile turns sheepish and he makes the sign of the cross over his chest. “Scout’s honor. I won’t breathe a word.” Then he clears his throat. “But just between us brothers…?”
Rolling my eyes, I decide to give him a little something, if only to keep him from annoying the hell out of me. “It’ll have to be after this war is over. And after the baby is born. I want to give her a real wedding, the kind of wedding she deserves. I want to be able to celebrate properly after we’ve declared victory over those Irish and Italian fucks.”
“You’ll have to propose first, you know.”
He’s got me there, not that I haven’t already considered it. I spent last night looking down at Wren while she was sleeping, imagining how I would propose to her. Fly her somewhere exotic and slide a ring on her finger with a spectacular view as our backdrop. The Eiffel Tower, perhaps? No, too stereotypical. The Pyramids, maybe? Too hot, too sandy. Maybe the Northern Lights? But I’ll be damned if I wait for the literal stars to align before I make her mine.
