Michael's POV
"You were what?" The
words fell from my mouth like stones.
Victor stood there, his face hard as the concrete under our feet. "I was there. The night your father died."
The world tilted. My gunshot wound throbbed with each heartbeat, a reminder that I was still alive despite everyone's best efforts.
"Explain." One word was all I could manage.
Victor's eyes darted to Costa, then back to me. "Not here."
I looked at the gathered faces—Costa alive when he should be dead, Sofia with hatred burning in her eyes, Elijah—no, The Ghost—watching everything with that maddening calm. My trusted right hand standing between us all, holding secrets I never knew existed.
"Bullshit," I spat. "You drop that bomb and expect me to wait? Start talking."
Victor moved closer, lowering his vo
