“Charles is playing it safe. Transitioning the organization, trying to be legitimate, reducing the activities that actually made the Carters powerful in the first place.” Ryan’s voice is confident, assured, like he’s presenting a business proposal instead of propositioning another man’s enforcer. “You’re an enforcer. A damn good one. But what happens when Charles doesn’t need enforcers anymore? When he’s successfully legitimized the operation and men like you become liabilities instead of assets?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” Ryan straightens, adjusting his collar and smearing Aria’s lipstick further. “I’m building something, Silas. Something independent of my family, independent of the Matthews expectations and limitations. I need people who are skilled, loyal, and willing to operate in the grey areas Charles is trying to avoid. And you—you’re exactly the kind of person I need.”
I stare at him, processing what he’s actually saying.
He’s trying to poach me.
Ryan Matthews, who spent the evening with his hands on Parker, who lied to Charles about having contact with her in California, who just fucked Aria while conspiring to gather intelligence on the Carter family, who’s currently standing here with another woman’s lipstick on his collar trying to recruit me—this asshole thinks he can buy my loyalty.
The audacity would be impressive if it wasn’t so fucking stupid.
“You think I’m for sale,” I say flatly.
“I think everyone has a price. And I think yours isn’t actually that high—respect, autonomy, the ability to do the work you’re good at without someone trying to reform you into something you’re not.” Ryan gestures vaguely, like he’s offering me the world. “Charles is going to push you out eventually. Maybe not today, maybe not this year, but eventually. The legitimate business he’s building doesn’t have room for men who solve problems with knives and fear. You know that. You’ve probably already felt the shift.”
He’s not entirely wrong. Charles has been talking more about reducing violent enforcement, about handling disputes through negotiation and economic pressure instead of physical intimidation. The work has been changing, slowly but noticeably.
But Ryan fundamentally misunderstands what motivates me.
“Let me be very clear about something,” I say, my voice low and dangerous. “I don’t work for Charles because he pays well. I don’t work for the Carter organization because it’s the most powerful or the most profitable. I work for Charles because I’ve known him since we were kids. Because he’s family—not blood,but family in every way that matters. Because loyalty to me isn’t about money or opportunities. It’s about the people I’d die for without thinking twice.”
Ryan’s expression shifts slightly—surprise, maybe, or confusion. Like the concept of loyalty that can’t be bought is genuinely foreign to him.
“Jace, Cal, and Charles—we came up together. We’ve bled together, fought together, built this operation together. And now Parker—” I let the possessiveness show in my voice, let him see exactly how much danger he’s in just for having touched her tonight. “Parker and those boys are mine. Ours. Which means they’re under Carter protection, Carter resources, Carter power. You think I’m going to walk away from that to work for someone who spent tonight trying to seduce the woman I love while conspiring with a bitter widow to destabilize the family I’ve spent twenty years protecting?”
“Silas—”
“You’re an idiot,” I interrupt. “An arrogant, entitled idiot who thinks everyone operates on money and power like you do. Who thinks loyalty can be bought and sold like any other commodity. Who’s so confident in your own cleverness that you didn’t even consider I might be wearing a wire right now, recording this entire conversation for Charles.”
Ryan’s face goes pale, his hand instinctively going to his collar like he’s checking for surveillance equipment he should have checked for before opening his mouth.
“I’m not,” I clarify. “But the fact that you didn’t think to check tells me everything I need to know about how seriously I should take your little recruitment pitch.”
I move toward my car, done with this conversation, done with watching this entitled asshole stumble through plays he doesn’t understand.
“One more thing,” I say, looking Ryan dead in the eye. “Parker told you no. Multiple times. She made it very clear there’s no future between you. And yet you keep pushing, keep trying, keep acting like her rejection is just an obstacle to overcome. That ends now. You try to kiss her again, you push her boundaries again, you make her uncomfortable again—and I won’t need Charles’s permission to handle you. Understood?”
Ryan’s expression shifts—the nervousness replaced by something cocky, almost smug. His hand touches his collar again, this time deliberately, drawing attention to Aria’s lipstick mark like it’s a badge of honor.
“Understood,” he says. Then, with that entitled smile that makes me want to break his jaw: “And what will Charles do when he finds out you’ve been fucking his sister?”
The words hang in the air between us.
Red floods my vision.
I step into Ryan’s space—fast, aggressive, with enough force and fury that he stumbles backward, his cocky expression crumbling into something closer to fear. I crowd him against my car, getting right in his face, close enough that he can see exactly how much danger he’s in, close enough that he can smell the violence on me.
“You want to tell him,” I say, my voice deadly quiet, “or should I?”
Ryan’s eyes go wide. Whatever response he was expecting, it wasn’t this. Wasn’t me calling his bluff. Wasn’t me completely unfazed by the threat he thought he was holding over me.
“I—what?”
“You heard me.” I lean in closer, letting him see the violence in my eyes, the promise of pain if he pushes this. “You think you’ve got leverage? You think knowing about me and Parker gives you power? Go ahead. March into Charles’s office tomorrow morning. Tell him his sister is involved with me. With all three of us. See what happens because I’m dying to see how it blows up in your face.”
Ryan’s breathing has gone shallow. The confidence has evaporated, replaced by the slow realization that he’s completely misread this situation. He presses back against my car, trying to create distance that doesn’t exist.
