Ryan is quiet for a long moment. Then: “You’re talking about breaking away from our families entirely.”
“I’m talking about building something new. Something where we’re not just legacy children playing roles we didn’t choose. You want that too—I can see it in the way you operate. Making connections Charles didn’t authorize. Talking to families the Matthews usually avoid. You’re already building your own network. I’m just offering to help accelerate the process.”
“In exchange for information about Parker’s children.”
“Among other things. I know a lot about the Carter operation. Things Dominic told me in bed that Charles doesn’t know I know. Things that could be... useful to the right buyer.”
Fuck.
This is worse than I thought. Aria isn’t just a bitter widow looking for security. She’s actively gathering intelligence, building leverage, preparing to sell out the family that took her in. I mean, I’ve known she’s smarter than people think, but she’s also a desperate deceitful person. It didn’t help all these years that I was fucking her and Dominic knew about it.
We weren’t together. Don’t confusing fucking for feelings or some shit. But since Parker reappeared outside the main house almost a month ago, I’d ended all contact with her. Hell, I rarely answer her security requests. I forward them to Jace or Marcus and move the fuck on.
I guess she is, too, in her spoiled bitch type way.
And Ryan—Ryan is interested.
“I’ll think about it,” he says finally. “But I need to know you’re not bluffing about the twins. Give me something concrete.”
“Not yet.” Aria’s voice is firm. “First, you show me you’re serious. Make your move with the Castellanos. Prove you can operate independently. Then we talk specifics.”
The conversation shifts—the sounds of movement, fabric rustling, Aria’s breathy laugh. Then other sounds. The unmistakable sounds of clothing being removed, bodies moving together, the rhythmic creak of furniture.
I switch off the audio feed. I don’t need to hear that.
But I’ve heard enough of the important parts.
I’m about to pull out when I see movement in my rearview mirror. Someone approaching from the direction of Aria’s guest house, walking with purpose.
Ryan Matthews.
He’s tucking in his shirt, his tie loose around his neck, his hair slightly disheveled. There’s lipstick on his collar—Aria’s shade, unmistakable even in the dim light. He looks satisfied, smug, like a man who just got exactly what he wanted in multiple ways.
He stops at my car window, tapping on the glass.
Fuck.
I step out slowly, my hand instinctively going to the knife concealed at my side. “Matthews.”
“Vale.” He crosses his arms, casual despite the fact that his shirt is still wrinkled from Aria’s hands, despite the evidence of their encounter written all over him. “Nice night for surveillance, isn’t it?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Please.” He smiles—that confident, entitled smile that makes me want to rearrange his face. “I spotted you following me. You’re good—very good, actually—but I’ve been trained to notice tails. My family isn’t exactly low-profile either.”
I say nothing, just watch him, calculating distances, angles, how fast I could have my knife at his throat if needed.
“Relax,” Ryan says, apparently oblivious to how close he is to bleeding. “I’m not here to fight. I’m here to talk.”
“About?”
“About the fact that you’ve been tracking me. About the fact that you’re clearly very skilled at what you do. About the fact that I’m impressed.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Impressed.”
“I’ve been watching you for weeks, Silas. Watching all three of you, actually. Jace, Cal, you. The way you operate. The way you handle threats. The way you protect what’s yours.” He pauses, and there’s something calculating in his eyes. “You’re wasted working for Charles Carter.”
The words land like stones. “Excuse me?”
