We’re surrounded.
TWENTY-TWO
Charlotte
“I’m coming too.” The words leave my mouth before I can second-guess them, jolting me out of the daze I’ve been trapped in.
The last few minutes feel like a thick fog in my head. Nothing really registered after that whiskey bottle exploded across the counter.
Even now, I can still feel the aftershocks of the violent flinch that ripped through my body. My fingers had curled into the leather of Spike’s cut so tightly my knuckles hurt.
He pulled me back immediately—further away from the center of the room, away from the tension… away from the man who walked in here like he owned the place.
Mihai Rosca.
Thinking his name makes something twist in my stomach.
I have no clue what has entailed. How they decided to give this situation a civil chance at a conversation with the frickin’ mafia lord.
I don’t know what else to call him. He looks young to be the head of the whole Romanian mafia, though.
I finally managed to clear my haze when Wolf’s words reached me.
“Let’s take this inside,” he’d growled. “And call off your men. There are women and children here.”
Wolf, Ruin, Scar, Hound, and Ryder head toward the large room at the end of the hall where they hold church.
Healer is probably stuck at his clinic. But I’m sure he’s been informed by someone.
I blink, a thought gripping me. I’ve never seen the room where church is held. Not once in my entire life here. A small part of me is curious about what it looks like. But I know exactly why I’ve never seen it.
Women aren’t allowed there, which is probably why Wolf has stopped walking and is staring directly at me. Ruin and Ryder glance between us, both looking uncertain—hesitation heavy in their postures. All while Scar and Hound frown at their Prez.
For once, I shove down the instinct to sneer or lash out. Instead, I say it plainly. “I’m this club’s princess, aren’t I?”
My vision blurs as I recall the words I overheard. Even as I try to keep my voice steadier than I feel, there’s a sharp awareness thrumming in my bones.
I’m talking in front of a man whose sister is trying to buy me. And he’s probably here to… what—do her bidding?
‘…princesses from fallen MCs fetch around ten mil a cunt…”
Fuck.
I force the next words out through the bile rising in my throat. “And this situation is about me. So I’ll be joining you.” I deliberately avoid looking at Mihai, but I can feel his attention like a spotlight burning against my skin. In my peripheral vision, I see him grinning like an absolute lunatic.
Wolf studies me for a long moment. His shoulders are rigid, his jaw tight. Anger vibrates through him, but underneath it, there’s something else.
Fear.
He exhales sharply and gives me a short nod. “Fine.”
A low, amused voice cuts through the room. “So you will,scumpo.” (Sweetheart)
I blink rapidly. The strange word lands infuriatingly soft in the middle of all this tension. It sounds almost affectionate.
It takes every ounce of control I have not to let out a hysterical laugh. Because the energy Mihai Rosca dragged into this clubhouse feels a thousand times more dangerous than anything I’ve ever experienced here.
And somehow, the asshole hasn’t stopped smiling.
