He smiled back. “Yeah.”

Just as suddenly, I was again confused.

“Was this what you were talking with Lee about after my apartment exploded?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed.

“This isn’t bad, so why were you in each other’s faces?”

“Because I was with you and Lee suspected where that was going, which is where it is now, and he wasn’t pleased with the pace the other shit was going.”

Yep, that was Lee.

“You go at whatever pace you wanna go, honey,” I told him.

“I intend to, baby,” he said on a grin.

I took a sip of coffee and asked, “How does Dom feel about all this?”

Ren shook his head, but replied, “He’s calmed his shit since all that went down with Ava and Sissy, but he’s still a f**kup. It’s just that now, he knows it.”

“And that means?”

“That means he doesn’t want to be at the helm, because Vito’s gonna retire but still be up in his face all the time. He also doesn’t want the helm because he’s got a wife and kid, his wife got roughed up in some bad business, and he doesn’t want any of that shit ever to touch his family again.”

I didn’t get a good feeling about this.

“So it’s crumbling,” I remarked.

“Yeah, Ally, and I can’t get worked up to give a shit about it,” Ren said, and his voice had gone harsh. “I gave them an out. Everyone connected to us does well with what I do. They don’t need that other shit. It’s just stubbornness and fear of change that’s makin’ him hold on. Vito’s a few years from retiring, so that makes even less sense. What does he care?’

Good question.

Ren kept going.

“And I didn’t grow up in the life. Until we got back to Denver, I had no f**kin’ clue. Then when I had a clue, I didn’t want it and that shit was forced on me. I didn’t like that. They pulled me in and I worked my ass off to keep my shit as separate as I could,” his eyes locked on mine, “but I’m not clean, Ally. Far from it. I know what they do. I’m in on meetings where decisions are made. And I’ve made decisions. I’ve also carried them out. I’m removed and I’m not.”

“I know,” I whispered.

“Yeah, you know,” he said, eyes still holding mine. “Before you knew any of this, you accepted me. And that was not a test, baby. Just circumstances that prevented you from knowin’ where I was at. But gotta say, I’m glad to know it.”

I leaned in and touched my mouth to his.

He put a hand to my neck and slid it up into my hair to hold me there so my mouth touch lasted longer and included some tongue.

Only then did he let me go, but when I resumed my position, I did it closer.

“So how’s that all gonna go for you? Disconnecting from the business?” I asked.

Again his eyes caught mine in an intent way that made me brace.

“Your brothers know. Lee’s men know. Marcus knows. Now I’m gonna tell you,” he said softly, but his soft voice was not his sweet voice.

It was a voice that was telling me to brace.

Luckily, I already was. I just did it more.

“What are you gonna tell me?” I asked.

He leaned into me and his hand went back to the side of my neck and stayed there when he declared, “You do not f**k with me, Ally. This disconnect with Vito is gonna go fine, because the people who I deal with in my business understand that.” He paused. “And why.”

“You’re a made man,” I whispered my guess.

His head moved back an inch and his eyes narrowed. “What?”

Why was he asking “what?”

“You’re, uh, not a made man?”

Ren said nothing and stared at me.

“Ren?” I prompted when this went on a while.

“We’re Sicilian, babe, but we’re not Cosa Nostra.”

My head jerked. “You aren’t?”

“Fuck no. If we were, I’d never get out.”

Wow.

I did not know this.

How did I not know this?

I mean, I didn’t know everything that went down in Denver and I’d purposefully never gotten into Zano business, but I knew a lot.

Just not this.

“I just assumed—” I started.

“We aren’t clean,” Ren interrupted me. “Vito’s into a variety of shit that his father was into and his father’s father started. But they left New York to come to Denver to leave that shit behind and do their own thing.”

“Oh,” I mumbled.

“Fuck, you thought my family was mafia?” he asked, his voice getting louder. Which, by the way, was not a good sign.

What it was was a sign that we were moving out of easy.

“Actually, I—”

“Jesus,” he clipped. “I was gonna say this is gonna go fine, not because if it doesn’t, I’ll whack anybody who f**ks with me. Just that they all know I know how to take care of myself and my family. I’ve proved that in a variety of ways. I’ve also not hesitated proving it or getting creative. So they’ve learned not to f**k with me.” He scowled at me and repeated, “Jesus.”

I didn’t know what to say. I personally didn’t think that it was a huge leap to make, him being Sicilian and the nephew of a third generation crime boss, but it was also an assumption that didn’t shine a great light on me.

“Ren, your family does certain… things. And they’re Italian. Sicilian Italian. Your dad was whacked. And Vito can be scary. I put two and two together—”

“And made twelve.”

Oh man.

I put a hand on his chest and leaned in. “You’re right. I’m sorry. That was totally uncool. Totally. Really, I’m sorry.” I tipped my head to the side and pressed my hand into his chest “Forgive me?”

“For thinkin’ I’m an underboss?”

Hmm.

Time to shut my mouth.

See, I’d been stupid and I’d apologized.

And he hadn’t accepted.

I offended him and maybe his acceptance was going to take a few minutes.

So I was going to give them to him before I lost my patience and pointed out (in a perhaps snotty or sarcastic way) that he should accept my apology.

“I’ll just take the dishes down to the sink,” I muttered, moving to exit the bed.