Morpheus raised a hand, and the room fell silent again. “Nano’s right,” he said quietly. “She just bet her life on being more valuable alive than dead. And she’s not wrong.”
Heretic leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “So what’s the play, Prez? We just let her sit up there and refuse tocooperate? Because I don’t see Reaper, King or Montana doing that.”
“No,” Morpheus said. “We give her time to think about what refusing means. Let her sit in that room and realize that her leverage only lasts so long. She’ll talk eventually.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Wanderer asked.
Morpheus’ expression didn’t change. “Then we make her.” His words hung in the air, heavy with implication, as I forced myself to stay still. To keep my hands flat on the table. To not react to the image of Alex strapped to a chair in the basement, Scythe’s tools laid out in front of her; her screams echoing off the concrete walls.
Focus. Think. What do they need to know?
I took another breath, organizing my thoughts. “From the beginning,” I said slowly, looking at Morpheus, “you ordered me to work with Sypher and Nav because we suspected the Diamond Creek attack was a hit. Not a random Death Dogs’ retaliation. A coordinated assassination attempt not just on the founding descendants but on FIRE as well. Possibly FIRE being the primary target, as they were taken out first.”
“That’s right.” Morpheus nodded as the room went still.
“We didn’t have proof,” I continued. “Just... instinct. The way it went down. The targets. Firestride, Ravage, Indigo, Eros, all of them connected to FIRE, the Table and the Federation in some way. It was too precise. Too calculated. The problem was, we didn’t haveproof,” I admitted as Morpheus watched me with that unreadable expression, and I knew he was already three steps ahead of where I was going with this.
“But now you think you have proof,” he asked quietly.
“I have a name,” I corrected. “Michael. Alex heard him order the hit on FIRE. That’s not a hunch. That’s confirmation.”
“Confirmation that means fuck-all without more details,” Scythe said. “We can’t go to Reaper with just a name.”
“Exactly,” I admitted, as frustration bled into my voice despite my best efforts. “We need more. We need to know who Michael works for. Who paid him? Whether he’s connected to theSocietyor working independently. We needproofthat this was coordinated, not just some rogue asshole with a grudge.”
Wanderer crossed his arms. “And you think Alex has that proof?”
“Maybe,” I groaned, rubbing the back of my neck. “She said she lived with him. Worked at the Prancing Pussycat. She might know more than she realizes. But I won’t know unless she talks.”
“Then make her talk,” Cerberus growled, his voice hard.
“It’s not that simple,” I snapped.
“Why the fuck not?”
Because I cared about her. Because the thought of her screaming in that basement made me want to put a bullet in my own head. Because I had spent three days breaking her down and building her back up, and I didn’t know if I could watch someone else destroy what I had created.
But I didn’t say any of that. Instead, I said, “Because if I push too hard, she’ll shut down completely. She’s already proven she would rather die than cooperate. You think torture is going to change that?”
“It’s changed plenty of people,” Scythe said coldly.
“She’s not plenty of people,” I said, as my words came out sharper than I intended. “She’s—”
“Yours?” Morpheus interrupted, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
I met his eyes, and I saw the challenge there.
The question he was really asking.Are you choosing her over the club?
“She’s everything,” I admitted carefully. “And if I break her the wrong way, I will lose her forever.”
Morpheus studied me for a long moment before he leaned forward, his hands folded on the table. “Let me tell you what I know,” he said, his voice deceptively quiet. “Reaper, King, Montana, and I formed this fucked-up truce because we saw what was coming. TheSocietyhas been moving pieces into place for years. Infiltrating clubs. Turning brothers. Bleeding us dry financially. We knew a war was inevitable.”
He paused, his gaze sweeping the room. “The Brotherhood was the perfect cover. No one would ever believe we would pick a side. We are too independent. Too unpredictable. Too fucking dangerous to trust. So we used that. We let the other clubs think we were neutral while we coordinated strategy. Tracked money. Identified threats.”
He looked at me, and there was no anger in his expression. Just cold, brutal assessment. “And suddenly the whole goddamned world knowsmy sonis a brother in the Golden Skulls, and he gets shot to shit. Then Firestride claimed Kyllian, andmy cousingot shot. Fuck sides. Fuck theSociety, and fuck you if you think I will let that bitch live when she has the opportunity to end this shit. Got love for you, Nano, but you can dip your dick into any pussy. I won’t let that cunt’s stubbornness harm another member of my family.”
The weight of his words settled over the room like a shroud. Morpheus’ accusation hung in the air, as I felt every officer’s eyes on me.
