Logan nods once. “Speaker.”
Carter comes back into Logan’s office with his phone in his hand and a look on his face that tells me the call connected before he says a word.
The room shifts. Not loud. Not obvious. Just enough that every man in it understands we’re about to step into another kind of war.
The auction clock on Dom’s laptop keeps counting down.
Forty-three minutes.
Every second is a blade.
Carter looks at Logan first. Then at me. “He answered.”
Logan nods once. “Speaker.”
Carter’s jaw tightens, but he does it. He taps the screen, sets the phone on Logan’s desk, and the line opens to the room. For half a second, there’s nothing.
Then a man’s voice fills the office. Smooth. Calm. Amused. “Carter Pearce,” Matteo Vittorio says, his accent faint but there, wrapped around the name like silk over a knife. “I wondered how long it would be before you called.”
Carter doesn’t react. “How long have you known?” he asks.
Matteo chuckles softly. “About the auction? About the girl? About your club stomping around a network it doesn’t fully understand?”
No one moves.
My hands stay loose at my sides.
Matteo keeps talking, unhurried, like we’re not staring at a countdown with Olivia’s life attached to it. Like time belongs to him because, in this moment, it does. “Be specific,” he says.
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.”
Logan’s hand curls against the edge of the desk. “Name your price.”
“Careful, president. Men say that when they’re desperate, then regret having given me room to be creative.”
“You already know what we need.”
“I do.”
“Then tell us your terms.”
Matteo pauses. Deliberately. He’s making us feel it. The clock. The lack of money. The fact that Olivia is on a site none of us can touch fast enough without him. Power. He knows he has it. And he’s enjoying just enough of it to make sure we know too. Finally, he says, “I’ll bid.”
The room doesn’t relax. It tightens. Because help from men like Matteo doesn’t come clean.
Carter asks, “Terms?”
“One favor.”
“No blank checks,” Logan says immediately.
Matteo laughs, low and sharp. “It’s adorable you think this is a negotiation.”
Logan’s eyes darken.
Matteo keeps going. “A woman is being auctioned in less than an hour. You cannot outbid the room. You cannot trace the room fast enough. You cannot intercept what you cannot access. I can enter without drawing suspicion, win without blinking, and receive the transfer location because they will believe I am exactly what I appear to be.”
A monster with money.
He doesn’t say that. Doesn’t need to. “Favor,” Matteo repeats. “Owed to me. Called on when I choose. No questions. Within reason, of course”
“Define reason,” Carter says.
“I won’t ask you to hand over women, children, or innocents,” Matteo says, voice colder now, the first real edge beneath the amusement.
“I don’t deal in that.” The statement sits there.
It carries weight because of what Carter said before.
Matteo’s father had been deep in trafficking.
Matteo knows this world. Maybe he hates it.
Maybe he owns pieces of what was left after his father. Maybe both things are true.
Carter’s jaw works once. “And everything else?”
“Everything else depends on how badly you want her back.”
My hands flex once.
Logan looks at me.
I don’t speak. There’s nothing to say. There is no price that matters if Olivia doesn’t come home.
Logan turns back to the phone. “Done.”
Carter’s eyes cut to him.
Landon exhales slowly.
Dom resumes typing, harder now.
Matteo’s voice smooths again. “Good. Smart choice.”
Dom leans forward. “I can send you the—”
“I already have it,” Matteo says. Everyone stills. The amusement is back, but thinner now. “I told you,” he continues. “You’re late.”
Dom’s face goes flat. “Then you know the lot.”
“I do.”
Carter’s voice is quiet. “Can you win it?”
Matteo laughs once. Short. Insulted. “I can buy the room if I want to.”
Blaze mutters, “Jesus.”
Matteo ignores him this time. “The auction starts in thirty-eight minutes,” he says. “Bidding will be private. Transfer details will arrive after confirmation. They will not send the primary location until funds are verified.”
Landon steps closer. “How long after winning?”
“Depends on the buyer’s tier. For me?” Matteo pauses. “Quickly.”
“Why?” Logan asks.
“Because my name opens doors your cuts kick down.” The insult is light. The truth isn’t.
Joker tilts his head. “I’m starting to like him.”
“No, you’re not,” Shadow says.
“I said starting.”
Matteo chuckles. “I like that one.”
Joker smiles.
Logan ignores both of them. “Once you get the transfer location, you send it to us.”
“No.” The word drops clean.
Every man in the room goes still.
Logan’s voice turns deadly. “No?”
“If I send you blindly, you make noise before I get her clear. These men are animals, but they are organized animals. They’ll have watchers, contingencies, and kill switches.”
My body goes cold.
Matteo continues, “You will move when I say move.”
I step closer to the phone. “No.”
Another silence.
Then Matteo says, “There he is.”
Carter mutters, “Matteo.”
“No,” Matteo says, his voice sharpening. “Let him speak.”
I lean over the desk, eyes on the phone like he’s standing in front of me. “You don’t give orders about her.”
“I do if they keep her breathing.” The room holds.
His words are the only thing that stop me from telling him exactly how I’ll peel his skin back if he plays games with Olivia’s life.
Matteo’s tone lowers. “Listen carefully, Cobra. Rage makes noise. Love makes men stupid. You need neither when she is close to men who will hurt her just to prove they still control the room.”
I say nothing. He knows enough to be useful. I hate that.
“You want her back,” he continues. “I want the ring burned. Those goals align for now.”
“For now,” Logan repeats.
“Yes,” Matteo says. “For now.”
Dom asks, “You know the ring?”
“I know enough pieces to hate them.” That’s the first honest thing he’s said. Or the first one that sounds like it.
Carter’s expression shifts slightly, but he keeps quiet.
Matteo says, “My father liked dirty money. He liked ugly doors because ugly doors often opened into profitable rooms. I closed several after he died. Clearly, not all.”
“Then help us close this one,” Carter says.
“That’s what I’m doing.”
Logan says, “After transfer?”
“After transfer,” Matteo answers, “you get her back. Then we use the location, the handlers, the account trail, and whoever appears to collect funds to start cutting upward. You want the whole ring? You don’t just shoot the men at the door.”
Cain’s voice is grim. “You follow who owns the building.”
“Exactly.”
Joker’s smile turns dangerous. “Then shoot him too.”
Matteo’s laugh returns. “Eventually.”
I look at the countdown.
Thirty-six minutes.
Olivia somewhere under their roof.
Olivia in their hands.
Olivia knows I’m coming.
I am.
Nothing in this room changes that.
Logan leans over the desk. “You win the bid. You get the transfer. You send us where to be and when. We bring the full fucking weight of the Deathstalkers MC down on whoever is there.”
“And I,” Matteo says, “will make sure you are aimed at something worth destroying.”
Carter’s eyes narrow. “And Olivia?”
The amusement disappears completely. “She comes back first.” That answer matters. Not enough to trust him. Enough to move.
Logan nods once even though Matteo can’t see it. “Then do it.”
“I will.” A faint sound comes through the line, like Matteo is moving, giving orders away from the phone without covering it fully. Italian, quick and smooth, too low to catch. Then he returns. “One more thing.”
Logan’s jaw tightens. “What?”
“When this is over, and I call in my favor, remember tonight before you decide I ask too much.” The line goes dead.
For a moment, no one speaks.
The auction clock keeps moving.
Thirty-five minutes.
Dom is the first one to break the silence. “Well. That was comforting.”
Blaze lets out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, nothing says peace like owing the mob.”
Hammer grunts. “Better than burying her.”
The room goes quiet again. Because that’s the truth.
Carter looks at me. “He’ll win.”
“You know that?”
“I know men like him don’t make promises they can’t keep when ego is involved.”
“Good.”
Logan straightens. “We prepare like he already has.”
That snaps the room back into motion. Orders start flying. Not chaotic. Sharp. Functional.
“Cain, pull cleanup and medical. I want Doc ready and moving with us.”
“Done.”
“Shadow, Hammer, weapons and vehicles. Quiet loadout first. Heavy ready.”
Shadow nods.
Hammer moves before the order finishes.
“Joker, you’re with me until transfer.”
Joker’s grin returns. “Lucky you.”
“Blaze, you stay on secondary team.”
Blaze doesn’t like it. Doesn’t argue.
“Dom, stay buried in that site. Anything moves, anything changes, I hear it before the rest of the room blinks.”
“Already there.”
“Landon, track Matteo’s payment path if you can without stepping on his toes.”
Landon’s mouth twists. “That’s a dangerous line.”
“Walk it anyway.”
“Yeah.”
Then Logan looks at me.
The room stills around the look.
“You stay breathing,” he says. I don’t answer. His voice hardens. “Cobra.” I look at him. “You go down before she’s back, you fail her.”
That lands.
Clean. Cruel. True.
“I stay breathing,” I say.
He nods. Good enough.
The room fractures into controlled movement, but I stay where I am for one more second, eyes on the auction clock.
Thirty-four minutes.
Somewhere, Olivia is alive. Somewhere, men think a bid will decide her future. Somewhere, a system that has been moving women like numbers is about to open its door for a buyer and find us behind him.
My breathing is even. My hands are steady. No panic. No blind rage. Only focus.
Now I know how to find you, angel.
Hold on.
I’m coming.