Chapter Four
Bianca paced nervously in the holding cell, her mind a whirlwind of fear and confusion. She had pinched her wrist several times, hoping to wake up from what felt like a nightmare, but the sharp sting confirmed that this was all too real. The cold, sterile air of the cell pressed in on her, and the heavy silence only amplified the terror gnawing at her insides.
In the corner of the cell, her father, Mario, sat slumped against the wall, looking more defeated and broken than she had ever seen him. As a child, she had always seen him as a distant, untouchable figure—someone ruthless, powerful, and above all, invincible. But now, as she watched him cower in fear, he seemed small, fragile, and utterly lost. The sight of him like this scared her even more than the danger they were in.
Unable to bear the silence any longer, Bianca forced herself to approach him. She had so many questions, so many things she wanted to scream at him. What had he done to bring them here? Why were they at the mercy of a bunch of ruthless gangsters?
But as she stood over him, those questions tangled in her throat, and all she could manage was a quiet, “Dad?”
Mario slowly lifted his head, his eyes glassy and distant, as if he had been somewhere far away. When he finally focused on her, there was a desperate, pleading look in his eyes that made her heart clench. He reached out and grabbed her hands, holding them tightly, as if she were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
“Bianca,” he whispered, his voice trembling with fear, “you must do whatever he asks … for your sake.”
She pulled her hands from his grip, recoiling as if she’d been burned. This man might look like her father, but he wasn’t the man she remembered.
Or maybe, she thought bitterly, she had never really known him at all. She had grown up with her mother, far away from Mario’s world, and had hardly seen him over the years. But surely, the father she had imagined would never have become this broken shell of a man.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. Getting angry at him wouldn’t help either of them right now.
“By ‘he,’ you mean that man who seemed surprised you had a daughter?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides.
“Galen Arrow,” Mario whispered, his voice barely audible.
The name sent a shiver down Bianca’s spine. She had heard of the Arrow brothers, of course. Everyone in the city had. They were infamous for their ruthlessness, their willingness to do whatever it took to maintain their power. And anyone who crossed them … well, they didn’t live to tell the tale.
“What have you done, Mario?” she asked, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
There was no anger in her voice now, only a deep, aching sadness. Mario’s gaze dropped to the floor, and for a long moment, he said nothing. Bianca could see the struggle on his face, the way he wrestled with his own guilt and fear. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he began to speak, his voice halting and choked with emotion.
“I … I made a mistake,” he confessed. “A big one. I was desperate, Bianca. The business … it was slipping away, and I thought I could turn things around. I thought … I thought if I made one big move, I could fix everything.”
Bianca’s heart sank as she listened to him. This was the first time she had ever heard her father speak so openly, so vulnerably. But instead of feeling sympathy, she felt a rising sense of dread.
“What did you do?” she asked again, her voice trembling.
Mario swallowed hard, his eyes filling with tears. “I … I betrayed the Arrows. I thought I could play both sides, make enough money to set us up for life. But I was wrong, Bianca. So wrong.”
The truth hit her like a punch to the gut. Her father had betrayed one of the most dangerous families in the city, and now they were both paying the price.
“Why didn’t you just stay out of it?” she asked, her voice cracking. “Why couldn’t you have just … I don’t know, retired or something? Why did you have to drag me into this?”
Mario shook his head, his expression one of utter despair. “I never wanted this for you, Bianca. I kept you out of my world for a reason. I … I thought I could protect you. But now … now it’s too late,” he whispered.
Bianca couldn’t take it anymore. She stood up, her hands shaking with a mix of fear and anger.
“You were supposed to protect me, Mario! You were supposed to be my father! But instead, you dragged me into this nightmare!”
She wanted to scream at him, to let out all the pent-up anger and frustration she had felt for years. But as she looked at him, sitting there, broken and defeated, she felt all the fight drain out of her. What was the point? Nothing she said or did would change the situation they were in.
“What’s going to happen to us?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Mario looked up at her, his eyes full of guilt and sorrow.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But whatever happens, just remember I love you, Bianca. I always have,” Mario said.
She turned away from him, unable to look at him any longer. She felt tears welling up in her eyes, but she blinked them away. Crying wouldn’t solve anything. She needed to be strong, to figure a way out of this mess. But as she stood there in the cold, sterile cell, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of hopelessness wash over her.
What had she done to deserve this? All she had ever wanted was a normal life, away from the shadows of her father’s past. But now, that past had come crashing down on her, and she had no idea how to escape it.
As she sat back down, she realized that the only way out of this was through Galen Arrow. If she could somehow convince him to let her go, maybe—just maybe—she could find a way to save herself and her father.
But as she thought back to the way he had looked at her, with that dangerous mix of curiosity and desire, she wasn’t sure if she could trust him—or if she could trust herself around him.
****
I poured myself another glass of vodka and stared out the window. The city sprawled out before me, lights twinkling like a sea of artificial stars.
My apartment wasn’t the penthouse like Devlin’s, but it was high enough to offer a view most people would envy. I had chosen to keep an apartment in Arrow Tower for convenience, a place close enough to the heart of the empire my brothers and I had built, yet far enough from the rot at its core. Now, I regretted that decision. I should have bought a place in the suburbs, somewhere quiet, away from the memories that haunted me.
Not the Arrow estate, though—never the estate. That place was a mausoleum of nightmares, filled with the echoes of violence and fear. A place that had shaped me, Devlin, and Carver into the men we were today.
I took another sip, feeling the burn as the vodka slid down my throat. My thoughts kept circling back to Mario and Bianca. What the hell had I done?
Bringing them here—alive, no less—was a mistake. A colossal, uncharacteristic mistake. I should have ended it cleanly, quickly. No loose ends, no witnesses. That was how we did things, how I always did things. So why hadn’t I?
Because of her. That woman—Bianca—she had gotten under my skin. I hadn’t been thinking straight the moment I laid eyes on her. Dark hair, green eyes, curves that could drive a saint to sin.
But it wasn’t just her looks. There was something in the way she had stared me down, defiant even with a gun pointed at her father’s head. That spark of fire in her eyes had caught me off guard, and that never happened. Not to me.
A sharp knock on the door broke my reverie. I groaned, knowing who it had to be.
“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.
But one thing was clear—I needed to find out if this attraction I felt was real, or if I was simply losing my mind.