23. Galena
GALENA
T he warehouse reeked of blood and cold concrete.
The kind of place nightmares crept into and made a home.
I didn’t know what I expected when I agreed to come, but it wasn’t this.
Well, I did expect the lack of atmosphere, but I didn’t think it would feel this way.
There was this hollow ache in my chest and the nauseating coil of anticipation winding tighter with every step I took.
I knew this was the right thing to do even as I knew it would change me forever.
Ilias walked beside me, my hand tight in his.
There were guards at the perimeter—men in dark clothes with eyes like dead glass.
They nodded when we passed, but I kept finding my eyes moving down, staring at the cracked cement under my boots.
That was not what I wanted. I wanted to be fierce and strong.
Ilias and I had taken these steps toward becoming a couple and building a real marriage. Granted, they were just the beginning of things, but we were on our way. Good communication, enjoying each other’s company, and great sex.
I wanted that life without anything hanging over me, but that day in the alleyway weighed on me like an anchor—like an albatross—and I wanted to move past it. This was a step I needed to take to get there.
Ilias’s guards hauled the man who’d shot at us, who grumbled behind his gag as they pulled him.
Apparently, he did not like the look of his new accommodations.
I’d feel sorry for him except for the fact that he’d been trying to kill us.
Not to mention, we’d been wrapped so nicely in each other’s arms, and Ilias’s dick had been hard against my clit. I scowled back at the man.
“Sunshine, why are you frowning so hard? Mad, he interrupted us?”
“Maybe.” It wasn’t too hard to admit, even though a little grin tugged at his lips. I was enjoying everything about the new dynamic with my husband. That made me grin even more, even though I was both terrified and excited about what came next.
Inside, the space was massive and empty, echoing with the metallic groan of old girders and the faint hum of fluorescent lights. At the far end, a single floodlight illuminated two chairs. And in them—Ricky Vairo and Ruben Bello. Shackled. Bloodied.
My legs locked, chest tightening with a rush of emotions I couldn’t name fast enough to separate.
Rage, panic, grief, and something a lot like glee.
These two represented a terrible day for me.
Even as anxiety threatened to overwhelm me, and I wondered if I was going to have to call on techniques to calm myself, Ilias’s hand clutched mine—steady, warm.
“Remember, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. ” He winked. “But you can if you want.”
I gave a watery laugh and squeezed his hand.
Maxim stepped out of the shadows. His face was hard, eyes darker than I’d ever seen them.
Next to him stood someone else. Tall, broad-shouldered, with an unmistakable resemblance.
He wore his hair shorn close to his skull and a motorcycle vest over a t-shirt despite the March weather.
There were blackout tattoos that covered every surface that wasn’t covered, and it made me wonder how much those had hurt with the needles that had to burrow into your skin.
I’d always been terrified of tattoos and the pain they’d bring, even though I thought they were beautiful.
“This is Dimitri. Dima to us.” Maxim clasped him on the shoulder hard enough that it made him scowl. “Your other brother. The not-as-handsome one.”
I looked back at the stranger—my half-brother. Another piece of my broken lineage laid bare. My throat felt tight. He didn’t try to come closer. He just inclined his head respectfully, eyes filled with something like recognition and remorse.
“I’m sorry we’re meeting like this,” he said quietly.
“But I wanted to get a chance to help hunt down the scumbags involved in hurting our family.” He glared at Vairo and Bello as if he could make them drop dead with just a single look.
“But it looks like I was a little late for the hunting part with these two.”
They weren’t monsters anymore. Just two broken, pathetic excuses for men. Eyes swollen shut. Dried blood crusting their mouths. Bruises like oil stains across every exposed inch of skin .
It should’ve made me feel powerful. Satisfied. But it didn’t. I stepped a little closer, and my brothers and Ilias shifted with me.
One of them stirred—Vairo, I thought. He lifted his head a few inches, blinked against the light, and when he saw me, his expression twisted into something I couldn’t read.
“You remember me?” I asked, quietly.
He coughed. Spat blood and tried to smile with cracked lips. “How could I forget a sweet thing like you? Maria’s girl. That one’s sister.” He jerked his head towards Maxim. His breath came out in a wheeze. “Supposed to marry that one there, but Dino said you weren’t taken yet. Guess he was wrong.”
Something in me snapped. But not like breaking a bone.
More like a rope finally pulling taut. “That’s right.
” I nodded slowly. “You killed my mother.” He didn’t answer.
“You left us in the street like garbage. Came after us for a debt that wasn’t ours, and you thought you could scare me into silence. ”
He gave a choking laugh, his eyes rolling wildly. “Guess you’re not scared now.”
I felt Ilias step closer behind me, but I held up a hand. “I’m not scared. I’m not going to let you haunt me anymore.”
Bello stirred then, barely conscious. I looked between the two of them—two faces that had stalked my nightmares. That had laughed when I begged. Then had walked away while my mother bled out beside me, even when I’d begged for an ambulance.
“How do you want it done?” Maxim’s voice was low, eyes wicked and unreadable. “I have all sorts of inventive ways, sestra , that could last and last.”
I didn’t answer right away. My hand trembled slightly as I reached out, and it was Dimitri who placed a gun in it without hesitation. It was heavier than I expected, and my hand almost drooped at the weight of it.
I looked at Ilias. He just nodded, his eyes warm and steady. “Only if this is what you want,” he said. “You don’t owe anyone anything.”
But that was the thing. I did. I owed my mother justice.
I owed that terrified girl who had lain in the street a final breath of power.
I stepped closer. Raised the gun with both hands—no single-handed cowboy shit.
I wasn’t even sure I would be able to do it with two hands.
My heart was beating so loudly it drowned out everything.
Vairo was already squirming against the rope that kept him in the chair, but he wasn’t going anywhere.
Ilias stepped behind me, steadied me with the solid warmth against my ear.
His heart thumped solidly and evenly against me, reminding me that he could be my anchor.
“The gun will kick hard. Prepare for it.” He put his arms around me and placed his hands over mine, but it was still my finger on the trigger. I had control. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Vairo met my gaze. Smug to the last breath. “You ain’t got it in you.”
He was wrong. The shot echoed like thunder as I pulled the trigger, catching him in the torso.
Dimitri gave a little huff. “Galena. I like this game. Shoot him a few more times.”
“Again,” Ilias murmured. “Squeeze. Don’t jerk.
” I nodded, ignoring Vairo’s moans and begs as the shot snapped his head back.
Bello gasped. Or maybe that was me at the remnants that were left of Vairo’s head.
It was messier than I expected. Brains and skull bits had flown back against the wall where they’d had him sitting.
Bello was begging now, incoherent and pathetic as I shifted with Ilias towards him.
“Please—he made me—please?—”
I shot him in the chest. Then again. Until the click told me it was empty. I gasped. Sucked in a breath like I was surfacing from deep underwater .
Ilias caught me as my knees buckled, then took the gun from my hands and handed it to Maxim, holding me upright. I turned toward him and let the sobs come. They didn’t feel weak. They felt earned. “I did it,” I whispered against his shoulder. “They’re dead, right?”
“Yes.”
I turned to look at the bodies one last time. And I felt… lighter. Not whole.
“Let’s go,” I said. “I’m done here.”