They needed to see I wasn’t asking them to endure anything I wouldn’t.
That I bled for this life too.
That I stood by the code, by the brotherhood, bythem.
And that I was ready to burn for it.
I let my hands fall to my sides and said calmly, “I was born and bred to be a monster. There’s no pretending otherwise. I’ve known nothing outside the reach of the bratva. My soul’s already blackened to char.”
I turned slightly, scrutinizing them closely. “You men bring something different to the syndicate. A new view of the world. Of right and wrong. Of who we protect—and why.”
My voice dropped. “You’re not joining some moral crusade. No. We’re not angels.”
I paused, jaw tight.
“We’re wolves of the night—the Volkovi Notchi.”
The words landed like thunder.
“We protect the lambs. But we feast on the shepherds.”
The room stayed silent, breathless.
I took a step closer to the altar and rested my hand on the edge, peering down at the candlelight flickering on the blade.
“My father made me kill my first man when I was twelve.” I inhaled deeply. “He handed me the pistol like it was a rite of passage, like he was a father teaching his son how to bring down his first deer. He adjusted my grip. Told me how to squeeze—notpull—the trigger.”
My vision blurred from the memory.
“The gun kicked harder than I expected. The bullet caught the man square in the throat, as if in slow motion. I still remember the sound—the wet tearing of flesh and sinew, the crack of bone. I remember the way his body snapped back. The way the blood sprayed against the wall.”
I swallowed hard.
“But mostly, I remember his eyes.”
The men stared back at me, aghast.
“He didn’t die right away. There was a heartbeat between the shot and the collapse. And in that heartbeat…I was the last person he saw.”
“Whatever he believed about the afterlife, whatever he carried with him into death—it included me. My face. My hands. My bullet.”
I stared at the flame, watching it dance.
“They say we carry nothing into the next life. No money. No possessions. No name.” I let the words hang. “Only what’s in our memories…our soul.”
I paused for a moment.
“And this life? This business? It eats away at that soul, piece by piece. Until you don’t even recognize yourself in the mirror.”
I stepped back from the altar, taking slow, measured breaths.
“So if you’re not ready for that…leave now. Because once you make the oath, it’s forever. No takebacks. No clean exits. You bleed for this syndicate, or you die because of it.”
No one moved.
Luca watched me, pride in his eyes.
And the candle flames burned on.
