The compound is too quiet. No music bleeding from the clubhouse, no girls perched on bikes or tailgates waiting for attention. No engines idling. No laughter.
Just men standing still and that's worse than chaos.
Angel is outside when we dismount. Ledger follows beside him, with Cypher near the steps to the front door.
Razor is pacing like a dog that hasn't decided whether it wants to bite or bark and Four's bike isn't in its spot.
Fuck.
My chest tightens.
"What happened?" I ask, already knowing I'm not going to like the answer.
Angel doesn't ease into it. "Task force picked up Four."
The words hit, but they don't land. "For what?"
"Anonymous tip," Cypher answers. "Something to do with cartel cash movement."
That's impossible.
Roman doesn't move a dollar without Angel knowing. He doesn't freelance. He doesn't skim and he most definitely doesn't fuck around with the cartel.
"And?" I push.
Because this isn't enough to bench a Vice President.
Angel's jaw flexes. "They're saying he's been meeting with an informant. Sleeping with her. Feeding information to move product."
Silence spreads across the yard like spilled oil.
Razor lets out a harsh breath. "Disgusting."
My head snaps toward him. Because, Four is a lot of things. He can be unforgiving, territorial, violent when needed, and absolutely brutal when crossed. But disloyal?
Never.
And Razor talking about loyalty to a woman? That's fucking rich.
"Where is he?" I ask, ignoring Razor.
"County," Angel says. "No bail pending federal review."
Federal…fuck. This is big.
"Dani?" I ask.
"She is barely holding it together." Ledger answers.
Dani must be devastated, but she knows him. She has to believe it isn't true. Four would rather lose a hand than betray her.
"What about Cal?" I ask.
Angel's gaze hardens. "His ex filed for emergency custody this morning. Temporary full-time until review."
Caleb Velez is eight.
Eight.