Marcus' blood went cold, his hand tightening on the glass, jaw tight. She'd said a lot of shite, and there were answers to some of it, but he couldn't get past what she'd said in there. Fuck. "What the fuck are you on about," he muttered, glaring at her. "Isolde's pregnant. M'having a kid."
He took a long gulp, draining the glass before setting it down and shoving it away. He crossed his arms on the table and glared across at her, leaning in. "S'not public knowledge yet, so don't say a fucking word."
So maybe he'd ignored the entire part about him being bent. She didn't know shite, and he didn't want to confirm it.