Page 172 of Ruthless God

Moretti speaks, his tone smooth. Controlled. “That’s not up to you, Cecely.”

She whirls on him. “Like hell it isn’t.”

Cecely’s hand tightens into my shirt, her stance unyielding.

Blanc chuckles. “See? The moment the truth is out, Irons is just another liability.”

I say nothing. Because I already know the truth. I’ve always known. This was never about justice. It was about who would survive the fire. And right now the flames are closing in.

Santos stands. “I think we owe it to Irons to hear him out. From the beginning.”

Cecely looks up at me, pleading with her eyes for me to defend myself. I dip my head.

“It all started when?—”

35

Cecely

I stay by Claudius’ side for hours while he tells the Elite Members everything. At one point, Blanc won’t shut up, so I put more tape over his mouth.

I don’t let go of Claudius’ hand the entire time. Not when the room falls into silence. Not when they look at him differently. Not even when I realize that no matter what happens next, nothing will ever be the same.

Claudius finishes his confession, his voice steady. “And that’s it. That’s everything.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air.

Henderson lets out a slow breath, running a hand down his face.

“Jesus Christ. That is not what I expected. At all.” He turns to Moretti, shaking his head. “Can you believe this shit?”

Dimitri is the one who finally breaks the silence.

“Dissociative Identity Disorder is a real thing.” He glances at Claudius. “It explains everything, if I’m being honest.”

I tighten my grip on Claudius’ hand. Because I can feel it. The shift. The way they’re reassessing everything. Not just what he’s done. But what to do with him.

Moretti leans back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the armrest.

Finally, he speaks. “Perhaps.” His dark eyes move to me. “But it doesn’t change what’s been done.”

I feel Claudius stiffen beside me.

I step forward before I even think about it.

“Claudius did what none of you had the balls to do. He exposed the corruption that you all knew was there. He did what was necessary.”

Moretti doesn’t flinch. “And yet, Cecely, the Brotherhood does not reward rebellion.”

I lift my chin.

“Then you’ll have to kill me, too.”

The room goes still. I hear Claudius exhale sharply.

“Cecely,” he growls, reaching for me. “Don’t.”

I shrug him off. I keep my focus on Moretti, on Carter, on Santos, on Henderson. On all of them.

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