Mihai pushes himself out of his chair. And almost in unison, hands fly to the guns. Hovering. Waiting.
He paces slowly along the length of the table, his movements unbothered, almost bored. “And now,” he continues, “at thirty-five…” His voice lowers. “She wants what I have spent the last decade building.”
He stops, turning to face Wolf.
“The bane of my childhood,” he says quietly. “The nightmare that refuses to die.” His eyes harden. “My sister, Ioana.”
I scan the room. Every single brother is silently scrutinizing the words that just came out of Mihai. Trying to claw their way to the truth behind them—if there is any.
Scar finally breaks the silence. “Your sister?” he asks, frowning. “You’re telling us Ioana Rosca did all that to you?”
A cruel, sinister smile spreads across Mihai’s face. “Ioana,” he says coldly, “was renounced by my family eleven years ago. You would do well not to refer to her as Rosca.”
“She runs the flesh trade under the Rosca family name,” Scar says, his tone edged with skepticism.
“She runsaflesh trade,” Mihai corrects smoothly. “Myfamilialhas nothing to do with it.”
Something about the way he says it feels rehearsed. Clean, like he’s distancing himself from something filthy.
“Why?” I ask suddenly, quickly doing the math.
Every head at the table turns toward me.
“Why was she disowned? It clearly wasn’t because she stabbed you. You waited years, even after that.”
Mihai’s eyes shift slowly until they land on me. He studies me for a moment. Then he exhales through his nose and rests his hip against the edge of the table.
“Ambition,” he says simply.
Wolf’s brow furrows. “Explain.”
Mihai chuckles softly. “My sister has always been… ambitious. As children she believed she deserved everything that belonged to our family.”
His fingers drum lazily against the wood. “The Rosca seat. Our operations. Our alliances.” He glances at Wolf. “And eventually, my position. But unfortunately, she was born without a cock.”
A chill crawls up my spine.
“So she was cast out,” Mihai continues. “For trying to turn people within the family.”
Ruin’s voice cuts in, sharp. “And where does Hell’s Army fit into this?”
Mihai’s smile returns, only now it looks darker. “Ah,” he murmurs. “Now we arrive at the interesting part.”
He pushes away from the table and begins pacing again. “My sister believes she can take my Rosca seat by force. She believesnumbers will win her that war.” He glances over his shoulder. “And apparently she has found willing idiots.”
Wolf’s voice turns colder. “Hellfire.”
“Da.” Mihai spreads his hands. “She now has men and guns,” he says casually. “Truckloads of brainless bikers and enough ammunition to turn a small town into ash.”
Ruin leans forward slightly. “So she’s using Hell’s Army to… take control of your family?”
“In the crudest terms,” Mihai replies, amused. “Yes.” He straightens slowly. “She believes if she crushes my allies and proves she controls territory, the other rival families will bend for her—against me.”
“So why are you here?” Wolf asks. “To ask for help? Help us?”
Mihai laughs—the sound is humorless. “I help no one.” His eyes flick to Ruin, then back to Wolf. “I did not come to warn you, either.”
Wolf’s jaw tightens. “Then say what you came to say.”
