Page 2 of Galen

Galen clenched his jaw, feeling the anger simmer just beneath his skin. It would look bad if he punched the head of the Family in the face.

“You don’t need to remind me. Both of you made love matches, leaving me to make one that’s beneficial to us. Don’t you find that unfair?” Galen demanded.

Devlin ignored his protest. “I’ll tell Gustav we can arrange a meeting next Monday,” Devlin said.

Galen’s teeth ground together, the urge to lash out nearly overwhelming. But then Krista’s voice called out from the house.

“The missus is calling,” Devlin said with a smirk, sharing a knowing grin with Carver.

They turned to head back to the house, leaving Galen feeling excluded. As Devlin turned his back, Galen fought the urge to catch him unaware, to remind him he was still a force to be reckoned with. But he didn’t. Galen counted silently to ten in his head until his frustration returned to manageable levels.

“He just wants you to be as happy as he is,” Carver said softly, lingering behind.

“And hopefully get an alliance with another family along the way?” Galen asked dryly.

“If you found a woman you genuinely care for, then I think his mind could be swayed,” Carver added, but Galen didn’t believe him for one second. “Happy hunting.”

Galen didn’t reply. The unsavory task Devlin had set for him suddenly seemed like a welcome distraction, something to keep his mind off this nonsense about marriage.

He drained his beer and crushed the can in his hand, tossing in the nearby trash can before exiting the house. Galen wouldn’t think about wives, matches, or alliances. Not tonight.

****

Galen parked his car in the narrow back street behind Mario Bruno’s house, the engine cutting off with a quiet finality. He didn’t get out immediately. Instead, he reached into his shoulder holster and pulled out his favorite gun, the weight of it familiar in his hand. It was the same gun Mario had given him when he was eighteen—stupid, reckless, and eager to prove himself. Back then, the gun had felt like a symbol of his future, a path he’d have to carve out on his own with his brothers by his side.

No one had been there to guide them after their father’s demise, except for a few old allies. Mario had been one of them, one of their father’s oldest friends, an ally to the Family even before Galen and his brothers were born.

“So why betray us now?” Galen whispered, his thumb tracing the muzzle of the custom-made weapon.

He hadn’t bothered turning on the car’s interior lights, the dark suited him just fine. He thrived in it, relied on it to make his work easier. The shadows were his friends.

He shut his eyes, and unbidden memories flooded in—Mario taking him to the gun range for the first time, Mario helping him choose his first car, the old man’s gruff laugh whenever Galen made a rookie mistake.

Back at the Arrow estate, he’d pretended the job didn’t bother him. Devlin believed the act, but Carver had seen through it. Thankfully, Carver hadn’t brought it up, just believing Galen would pull through like he always did. An Arrow always did what was necessary, no matter the cost.

A knock on the glass pulled Galen out of his thoughts. He rolled down the window to see Benny, his second-in-command, standing there. Benny was a sharp guy, and Galen had brought him along just in case he couldn’t pull the trigger himself, although Benny didn’t know that.

Galen made a show of checking the bullets in his gun before stepping out of the car. The night air was cool, the street eerily quiet.

“You okay, boss?” Benny asked, his voice low.

“Yeah, I think my stomach’s a little upset from dinner,” Galen said, his tone making it clear that Benny should back off.

Benny, always attuned to Galen’s moods, nodded without another word.

“Security?” Galen asked, scanning the area.

“I’ve sent David ahead. He reported no guards standing by,” Benny said, sounding puzzled.

“What if no one’s in the house?” Galen murmured, his eyes narrowing as he studied the building. The light in Mario’s office was on, casting a dim glow through the curtains.

Another light flickered on in one of the bedrooms. A guest? Mario had lived alone as far as Galen knew. Then again, what did he really know about the man who had claimed to be an ally and friend to the family, only to turn his back on them when a bigger profit came his way? Selling his product to the Costas, Mario should have known better. The Arrow family had a long-standing feud with that clan.

“He’s expecting us,” Galen said, the certainty in his voice unshakable.

“Let us go ahead first, in case it’s a trap,” Benny suggested.

“Very well,” Galen agreed, but deep down, he had a sneaking suspicion that Mario had already accepted his fate.

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