Carter’s eyes narrow. “Don’t play games.”
Another soft laugh. “Still protective,” Matteo says. “How is Brooke?”
The room goes colder.
Carter’s entire body locks. That name in this room, from that mouth, changes the air. Logan’s gaze snaps to Carter, then back to the phone. Carter leans closer to the desk, voice low and deadly. “You don’t say her name.”
“Relax,” Matteo says, not sounding relaxed at all because he doesn’t need to. “It was genuine interest. Last time our paths crossed, she was alive because certain men decided to be useful instead of proud. I assume she’s well.”
“She is,” Carter says tightly.
“Good. I’m glad.”
The silence that follows doesn’t soften anything. It makes the power in his voice clearer. Matteo isn’t beneath us. He isn’t asking permission to be in this conversation. He’s inside it because we sought him out. That matters.
Logan steps closer to the phone. “This is Logan Pearce.”
“I know who you are.”
“Then you know why we called.”
“I know why you should have called sooner.”
Blaze mutters, “Cocky motherfucker.”
Matteo’s voice turns amused again. “I heard that.”
Dom’s fingers keep moving over the keys, but his eyes flick to the phone.
Matteo continues. “And yes, I am.”
Joker’s mouth curves faintly.
Logan’s tone doesn’t change. “You know the auction.”
“I know the operation.” That lands harder.
Dom stops typing for half a second.
Landon’s face tightens.
Carter looks like he expected it and still hates hearing it confirmed.
Matteo says, “You’re late to the game.” The words settle into the room like smoke. Not a taunt. A fact.
I step closer.
Carter glances at me once, then back to the phone.
“Then get us in,” I say.
The line goes quiet. Not disconnected. Listening. Matteo’s voice returns, slower now. “And you must be Cobra.” I don’t answer. He hums slightly. “The biker who threw a wrench into a near flawless operation.”
My jaw tightens.
Carter cuts in. “Can you help or not?”
“I can,” Matteo says. No hesitation. No doubt. He lets that sit before continuing. “Whether I will is another matter.”
