“Ryan Matthews,” Diego gasps out. “And a woman. Aria. They— they contacted me three weeks ago.”
“What did they want?”
“They said they were building something. Something independent of the established families. They needed assets, people who could provide resources, intelligence.”
“And you agreed?” Charles’s voice is cold. “You agreed to betray the family that’s employed your family for three generations?”
“They said—” Diego’s voice shakes. “They said there was no future in the new Carter organization. That you were going soft, legitimizing. That people like me would be pushed out. But with them, I could actually be someone.”
I move closer, picking up a knife from the table. Something simple, sharp. “The attack today. What was the purpose?”
“Scare tactic. Psychological warfare.” The words tumble out faster now. “They wanted to show they could get to you, to your people. To prove the Carter protection wasn’t as good as everyone thinks.”
“Were they trying to kill anyone?”
“No! No, I swear. The snipers had orders to miss. It was just supposed to scare people, not hurt anyone.”
“Just scare people.” I let the knife trace a line down his chest—not cutting, just the promise of it. “You put four children in danger. Charles’s son and daughter. Parker’s twin boys. You put my family in the line of fire and you thought that was acceptable because no one was supposed to get hurt?”
“I didn’t think— I mean, I knew there would be kids but they said—” Diego realizes he’s making it worse. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll tell you everything, please?—”
“You’ll tell us everything anyway,” Charles says. “Where are Ryan and Aria now?”
“I don’t know. They went dark after the attack. Said it was too hot, they needed to lay low.”
“How do you contact them?”
“Burner phone. They gave me a number.”
“Where’s the phone?”
“My locker at work. Number 47, combination 23-15-8.”
Charles pulls out his phone, texting someone—probably having Maria or one of our people retrieve it.
“Who else did they recruit?” I ask. “You said they wanted assets in different organizations. Who else is working for them?”
“I don’t know names. They kept us separated.” Diego’s breathing is ragged, panicked. “But there are others. I heard them mention someone in the Castellano organization, someone with the Dents. At least four or five people total. Maybe more.”
This is worse than I thought. Ryan and Aria aren’t just making a play—they’re systematically destabilizing the entire structure, pulling people from multiple families.
“What’s phase two?” Charles asks.
Diego’s face goes blank. “What?”
“The message on your burner phone. ‘Phase one complete. Going dark for phase two.’ What’s phase two?”
“I don’t know. I swear I don’t know. They didn’t trust me with that information. I was just supposed to make the plates and keep quiet.”
I pick up the drill again, testing the weight. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Diego.”
“I’m telling the truth!” His voice rises to a shriek. “They didn’t tell me! I was just a tool, I didn’t know their full plan!”
I look at Charles, reading his expression. He’s calculating, deciding if Diego’s telling the truth or if we need to push harder.
“Silas,” Charles says quietly. “Adrenaline.”
I nod, moving to the medical kit on the side table. Pull out a syringe, measuring out the dose carefully. Diego’s been on the edge of passing out from fear and pain—the adrenaline will keep him conscious, keep him talking, keep him from escaping into unconsciousness.
