Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
Charlotte
There are moments in your life where déjà vu grips you so tight it feels like a fist around your gut. Where the unease doesn’t just linger—it settles. Heavy. Rotting. Where you squeeze your eyes shut, desperate to drag the memory back before it slips away. But I can’t do any of that.
The look on Wolf’s face right now has me frozen. I’ve seen it before. That night. Him standing across from me at Sinful Chugs. His quiet, broken voice whispering ‘do it’ when Ruin ordered me gagged and leashed.
And now, he looks seconds away from doing it again.
My mind spirals, dragging me into a vicious loop of memories. Did I miss something? Anything? A glance. A word. A shift in behavior from Ruin or Ryder? Anything that could mean that they’re traitors?
My hands start to shake again. Because time is running out.
I can feel it in the air. In the tension pulling tighter and tighter around us. But when I look back at Wolf, I don’t just see anger. I see conflict. Pain.
“Wolf,” Ryder says, voice careful. Controlled. “We—we’re not sure what happened but… Wolf. It’s us.”
The gun doesn’t move. Still trained on Ruin’s chest. Wolf doesn’t even look at Ryder.
Ruin has both hands up now. Palms open. Still. But his eyes—God—he’s staring at Wolf like he doesn’t recognize him. Like this version of him doesn’t exist in his world.
“Give me a reason,” Wolf says, his voice shaking. Not with fury but with desperation. “Give me a damn reason why—when… when I gave all the officers different false intel…” His breath stutters. “…yours is the one that got hit.”
My stomach drops. Oh.
Oh, God.
Wolf laid down a trap and they failed. But how?
“I don’t know,” Ruin says calmly. But I catch it—the slight tremor in his hands. “I don’t know, Prez. Let me find out.”
Something in me snaps. Before I can think better of it, I reach out and tug on Wolf’s cut. Hard enough to pull his attention. His gaze falters—just for a second. “They’ve both been with me, Wolf,” I whisper. “The whole time.”
Ruin’s head snaps toward me. Surprised. Then something shifts in his expression as he drops his gaze. Thinking. Processing. Like he’s dumbfounded that I’d come to their defense.
The air changes. Wolf lets out a rough, broken groan. The gun hits the table with a dull thud.
Only then do I notice that the safety was never off.
“Rebel sold the Reapers out,” Wolf says suddenly. His voice is frayed. “Their own president. Sold them out.”
The words don’t land, not at first.
“Bug told me a few days ago,” he continues. “He worked with Hellfire. Shut down every security system in their compound… and handed his own fucking club over on a silver platter.”
I see it then. The exact moment it sinks in for Ruin and Ryder. Their faces go blank.
“What?” Ruin whispers, like he’s speaking to himself. “He—what?”
Wolf doesn’t respond, doesn’t do anything to confirm that the news hasn’t shattered everything they’d thought about their allies.
He breathes in, deep and ragged—then exhales equally as roughly. “No one can be trusted,” he says finally, voice hollow now. “And I’m asking you, Ruin.” His eyes lift, locking onto him again. “How do I trust you?”
Then they shift to Ryder. “Or even you? When the plan I set to catch a traitor is pointing me straight at the both of you?”
Silence crashes into the room. They’re both frozen. Thinking. Searching. And failing. Like they can’t find a shred of evidence to support their innocence.
Something inside me snaps completely. “Say something!” I bite out, my voice sharp. “You’re being given a fucking chance, so say something!”
Wolf glances at me. Guilt flickers across his face but I ignore it.
“We must’ve made a mistake,” Ryder says, his voice hoarse. “Someone must’ve—”
“What better way to weaken the club,” Ruin cuts in with a slow nod, his brows drawn tight, desperation bleeding through, “than by taking out the two most trusted men to the Prez?”
Wolf’s eyes flicker—uncertain, unsettled. I can see it. The fight happening right there, behind his gaze. The brutal, physical effort it’s taking for him to even try to believe them.
“Well, what do we have here?” The accented drawl slices through the room.
My entire body locks. Every single person in the basement goes still.
Mihai. He steps in like he owns the damn place. Slow. Unbothered. That long black overcoat swaying behind him with each deliberate step.
My brother exhales sharply beside me, already sounding exhausted. “What are you doing here, Mr. Rosca?”
Mihai grins, all teeth and arrogance. “Just here to see my favorite allies.”
A second man follows him in—huge. Broad enough that he has to angle himself sideways just to get through the door. His face is blank. Empty.
“I see there’s something wrong here.” Mihai hums, eyes gliding over all of us. Still smiling. Always smiling. “The energy of this room… of!”
He spins slightly, now facing Ruin and Ryder. “Is this when you Americans say… ‘fucking hell’?”
Wolf groans under his breath.
And when Mihai takes another step forward, I don’t even think, I just shift back. Right behind Wolf. His arm comes up instantly, shielding me.
“I’m not the enemy, Wolf,” Mihai says, rolling his eyes like he’s the one inconvenienced here. Then his gaze flicks back to Ruin and Ryder. “And neither are they.”
Wolf stiffens again, adjusting his stance so I’m fully covered. But that doesn’t stop Mihai. Of course it doesn’t.
He leans sideways—actually bends—to peer around Wolf with that same infuriating smile. “I see you’re still alive, scumpo.”
My jaw tightens.
“How do you know they’re not the traitors?” Wolf asks, dragging the attention back to him.
Mihai gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “Why can’t I spy if Hell’s Army can? Double standards, Wolf?”
He clicks his tongue, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “And I know they’re not your traitors,” he adds, almost lazily. “They’re just… prost—” He pauses, thinking. “—ah, stupid.”
I feel some of the tension ease out of my spine. Just a fraction. Wolf exhales too, but the stiffness in him doesn’t disappear. It just shifts.
Now it’s Mihai he’s braced against.
“Looks like your men haven’t always stayed out of the way like you promised,” Ruin says, his glare sharp and cutting.
Mihai’s grin only widens. “They tell me a lot!” His tone is obnoxiously cheerful. Too cheerful.
Then his gaze moves again—Wolf, Ruin—and lands on Ryder. He studies him for a second. Then nods. “This one kissed your sister, Wolf.”
Shit. My stomach drops.
Then Mihai tilts his head toward Ruin. “And this one is in love with her.”
Words don’t compute for half a second. And then—
What. The. Fuck?
Wolf growls—low, dangerous—and steps toward the table. Toward his gun.
I risk a glance at Ruin. He’s already looking at me. His cheeks are flushed—deep red, like he’s been caught doing something he can’t deny.
But it’s his eyes. God. They don’t waver. Not even for a second. The intensity in them makes my chest tighten.
Is that true? Is he actually—
“See?” Mihai cuts in, slicing clean through my spiraling thoughts. “It’s very easy to spy, Prietene.”
Every brother in the room glares at him, but it doesn’t last. Because the asshole opens his mouth again. “One of my men,” Mihai says with an easy smile, “saw a brother of yours exit a very empty office. Your VP’s office.”
A cold settles heavily in the room.
“He was there,” he continues casually, “alone… for at least five minutes.”
Ruin and Ryder both jerk, turning to each other. Shock—pure, unfiltered shock splashed across their faces.
Ruin mutters a curse under his breath.
Ryder shakes his head immediately. “No. Scar wouldn’t—no.”
Mihai’s brows pull together, his expression twisting into mock confusion as he looks at Ryder. “But why wouldn’t he?” he asks mildly. “Hellfire promised him the VP patch. Which is… better than what he ever got in your club, no?”
The words land like a detonation.
My own legs feel like they might give out any second. The traitor really was one of the officers.
Around me, the room fractures.
Ryder goes completely still. Like someone just ripped the ground out from under him. His lips part, but nothing comes out—no denial this time. Just… shock.
Ruin’s jaw clenches hard. His hands curl into fists at his sides, muscles in his arms straining like he’s barely holding himself back from tearing the room apart. “Fuck,” he breathes, but there’s no bite to it. Just raw disbelief.
Wolf doesn’t say anything. He just stares. And that’s worse.
Because I can see it happening right in front of me. The pieces clicking together. Every doubt. Every crack. Solidifying.
“Oh, Wolf.” Mihai sighs, almost pitying now. “You thought you could look into my family and I wouldn’t dig up every single grave of yours?”
My fingers curl into the fabric of Wolf’s cut, clutching it without realizing. My heart is pounding so hard it hurts.
“I’m not a threat,” Mihai continues, his voice dropping—cold, stripped of that playful edge, “…yet.”
A beat.
Then he tilts his head slightly. “But your Road Captain,” he adds softly, “the one who was promised something he didn’t get. Who my men just saw leave your compound an hour ago… is.”