Page 9 of Galen

“I don’t want to be disturbed,” I called out, but the door opened anyway.

Of course, they ignored me. Benny and the others wouldn’t intrude on my privacy, so it had to be one of my brothers. Please don’t let it be Devlin, I thought. I wasn’t in the mood for his relentless need for control, not tonight.

I felt a wave of relief when Carver stepped into the living room. If there was one thing I appreciated about Carver, it was his honesty. He didn’t bullshit, didn’t dance around the point.

“Why are Mario Bruno and an unknown woman in one of our holding cells?” Carver asked bluntly, his eyes boring into mine.

“Bianca, his daughter,” I replied, my voice sounding steadier than I felt.“She was in his office when we got there.”

“Let me rephrase,” Carver said, crossing his arms. “Why is Mario still breathing? And if she’s a witness, why haven’t you taken care of her?”

I stared at him, the vodka suddenly sour in my mouth.“I have plans for Bianca,” I found myself saying. The words came out before I had a chance to think them through.“And I need Mario alive for my plan to work.”

Carver narrowed his eyes, suspicion written all over his face. He wasn’t an idiot, and he could tell when I was bullshitting.

“What kind of plan, Galen?” Carver asked.

My mind raced, spinning out scenarios, trying to find a solution that didn’t make me look like a fool. There was only one answer that made sense.

“You and Devlin keep pushing me to find a wife,” I said, meeting Carver’s gaze.“I’m planning on marrying Bianca Bruno.”

Carver’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “Are you out of your mind? You’ve only just met this woman today, haven’t you?” Carver asked.

I forced myself to stay calm, to control the narrative.“You told me once that when you first met Lucy, you immediately knew she was yours,” I reminded him.

“Lucy’s different,” Carver shot back, his voice tight with conviction.

“How is she different?” I challenged. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my thoughts.“Look, Carver, I know I’m in deep shit with Devlin for not following his orders, but try to understand my point of view.”

Carver’s gaze softened slightly, the tension between us easing a bit.“This woman, Bianca. You really think she’s the one?” Carver asked.

I didn’t have an answer for that. Not really. But something deep inside me, something I had never felt before, told me I needed to figure it out.

We were all raised in violence, forged in the crucible of our father’s cruelty. Love wasn’t something I had ever expected to find, not for myself. And yet, Carver had found it. Devlin, too. Was it so impossible that I might, as well?

“I just need to know you’re not making this reckless decision because some part of you doesn’t want Mario gone,” Carver said, his voice careful, measured.

“I’m doing this for me,” I said firmly, trying to convince both him and myself.

Carver studied me for a long moment, then nodded.“I understand. I’ll do my best to keep Devlin off your back, but you know he’ll find out eventually,” Carver reminded me.

“I know,” I answered, feeling the weight of that inevitability settle on my shoulders. “When that time comes, I’ll handle it. Thank you, Carver.”

“No problem, brother.” He gave me a reassuring nod before turning to leave.

As soon as the door closed behind him, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I had just dug myself into a deeper hole, one I wasn’t sure I could climb out of. But there was no turning back now.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Benny’s number.“Bring Bianca to my apartment,” I ordered when he picked up.“Just her. I want to talk to her.”

After hanging up, I poured another glass of vodka, but this time I didn’t drink it. I just stared at the glass, the clear liquid reflecting the fractured thoughts in my mind.

What the hell was I doing? I had just told Carver I planned to marry a woman I barely knew, all to justify keeping her alive. But was that really the reason? Or was there something more, something I wasn’t ready to admit, even to myself?

A knock came at the door again, and this time it wasn’t Carver. Benny stood there, his expression neutral. “She’s here, boss,” he said.

“Send her in,” I replied, setting the glass down on the table.

My heart pounded in my chest, a mixture of anticipation and dread swirling within me. I was about to confront the woman who had turned my world upside down in a matter of hours, and I had no idea what I was going to say.

---