Page 14 of Galen

“Devlin,” he began, his voice firm,“if you kill him … I’m out.”

Devlin’s eyes widened in shock as he shoved Mario hard against the wall before spinning around to face Galen. The gun lowered slightly, but the rage in Devlin’s expression was unmistakable, his lips curled into a snarl.

“You’reout?” Devlin repeated, his voice laced with incredulity and anger.“You’re choosing this traitor over us? Over your blood and family?”

“That’s not it,” Galen said, meeting Devlin’s gaze evenly.

He knew he had to tread carefully. Devlin’s temper was a dangerous thing, burning cold and slow, but when it erupted, it left nothing but destruction in its wake. And Devlin was not one to forgive easily, if at all.

“I need Mario alive for a reason,” Galen said.

“And what reason is that?” Devlin’s tone was biting, suspicious.

Galen took another step forward, closing the distance between them. He couldn’t afford to hesitate, not with Mario’s life hanging in the balance.

“I need Mario alive so Ican wed his daughter,” he said.

Devlin’s eyes narrowed, his fury momentarily giving way to confusion.

“What?” he demanded, his brow furrowing in disbelief. The tension in the room thickened.

“You heard me,” Galen replied, keeping his voice steady.

He had to sell this, make Devlin see the logic, the necessity of his plan.

“If you kill Mario, she’ll never forgive me. But if he lives, I can secure her loyalty. She’ll marry me, Devlin, and with that marriage, we gain control over the remaining pieces of Mario’s empire. It’s a strategic move, one that benefits all of us,” he said.

For a long moment, Devlin stared at him, the wheels turning in his head as he processed Galen’s words. The rage in his eyes simmered, but it was clear he was considering the implications.

Galen could see the gears shifting in Devlin’s mind, weighing the pros and cons, assessing the risk and reward.

“Marriage?” Devlin finally muttered, almost to himself.

The gun lowered further, and he shot a glance at Carver, who nodded slightly, as if to say he saw the sense in it.

Galen seized the opportunity, pressing his advantage.“You know I’m right, Devlin. This is the smarter play. Mario is a broken man. He’s no threat to us anymore. But his daughter is strong, resilient. With her by my side, we consolidate our power, solidify our position,” he said.

Devlin’s eyes flicked back to Mario, who was slumped against the wall, trembling, his face pale and drawn. Then back to Galen. Slowly, the gun lowered completely, and Devlin let out a long breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

“Fine,” Devlin said, his voice cold and clipped.“But if this backfires, Galen, if this woman betrays you, I won’t hesitate to clean up your mess. Understand?”

“Understood,” Galen replied, relief washing over him, though he kept it from showing. He had won this round, but he knew the game was far from over.

Devlin holstered his gun, casting one last disdainful look at Mario before turning on his heel and stalking out of the cell. Carver lingered for a moment, giving Galen a brief nod of approval before following their brother.

Galen let out a slow breath, turning to face Mario, who was still trembling with fear.“You owe me,” Galen said quietly, his voice hard.“Don’t forget that.”

Mario nodded weakly, sliding down the wall to the floor, a broken man clinging to the fragile thread of his life. Galen didn’t offer him any comfort. His thoughts were already elsewhere, on the woman waiting upstairs in his apartment.

Bianca would be his. He had no doubt about that now. But the stakes had just been raised, and he would need to be more careful, more calculated than ever before. Tonight, he would make his move, and once she was his, there would be no turning back.

Chapter Seven

Bianca stood in the center of Galen’s apartment, the door clicking shut behind the gangster who had delivered the packages. The air felt thick with the weight of what had just transpired, and despite herself, she couldn’t shake the tingling curiosity that buzzed in her veins.

The man who had kidnapped her and was holding her father’s life in the balance wanted her as his wife. It was absurd, and yet the thought sent a thrill through her she couldn’t quite explain.

She glanced around the apartment once more, searching for anything that might hint at the man who lived here. The space was impeccably designed—functional, yet undeniably luxurious. Everything was in its place, sleek and modern, with deep leather couches and polished wood accents that whispered of wealth and power.

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