31. Galena
GALENA
I ’d just finished getting ready when the doorbell buzzed.
My hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and I’d put on workout clothes.
There hadn’t been a lot of direction regarding what we were going to be doing, but I was hoping we’d be active.
Hitting the button on the panel like Ilias had shown me, I buzzed her in and jogged down the stairs.
The woman who stepped through the archway looked like she’d walked off a movie set where she played the role of the sexy underground hacker who knew twenty different ways to kill a man.
Her black hair was shaved on one side, the rest pulled into a thick French braid down her back.
Tattoos crept like vines down both arms, disappearing beneath a cropped vintage band tee and a snug leather jacket covered in hand- stitched patches.
Combat boots. Cargo pants. She was all cool lines and sharp edges. Very hip.
"Galena?" she asked. Her voice was smooth, but carried grit beneath it, like she’d smoked a hundred truths and never coughed once.
I nodded. "That’s me. You must be Sloane.”
"The one and only," she replied, her grin cocky and open, like she already knew we’d get along. She didn’t go for a handshake.
Just nodded, eyes flicking over me in a way that wasn’t evaluative of my looks, but my energy, my tension, my stance, the things people didn’t usually pay attention to.
"Kostas said you wanted someone who doesn’t bullshit.
You came to the right girl. You ready to get your ass handed to you in the name of self-empowerment? "
Despite myself, I snorted. “I’m a little scared, but yep. Looking forward to it.”
Sloane grinned. "Kostas said there was a space in the basement where we’d have some privacy.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. "Follow me."
We headed down the main staircase, then another narrower one that led to the brownstone’s fully renovated basement gym.
Like everything in Ilias’s house, it was state-of-the-art, with mirror-lined walls, padded floors, and equipment that looked straight out of a professional gym.
A heavy bag hung in the corner, and there was even a sparring ring.
Sloane whistled as she stepped inside. "Damn. I was picturing that there might be a dusty mat and a cracked mirror, not Gotham’s Batcave.
” She winked over at me. “Sometimes I have clients who have a varying degree of financial means. Not that it’s a bad thing.
Variety is the spice of life and all that. ”
"Ilias doesn’t do anything halfway," I said, trying to hide my nervousness as I kicked off my shoes and stepped onto the mat.
She tossed me a pair of fingerless gloves from her bag. "Then let’s not half-ass this either. Okay. So, know that there will be moments when you feel overwhelmed and panic. The main thing is that when you do, make it look like part of the plan."
I gave her a skeptical look. "Is that actually possible? I’ve gotten pretty good at managing my panic attacks, but I haven’t been out and about recently. Definitely one of the things I’m worried about. Learning stuff and then panicking when it happens.”
“It’s possible,” she replied, already stretching. “That’s why we practice until it’s just muscle memory. Your body will know what to do, but all the other things you’re doing to help yourself are good too.”
I followed her lead, mimicking her movements. She explained what we’d be doing—basic grip breaks, quick strikes, and how to use leverage instead of force.
"Think survival, not victory," she said. "You’re not training to win a belt. You’re training to get away, fast and whole."
We started with grip escapes. She warned me before each motion, moving slowly, always asking permission before contact.
"I’m going to grab your wrist now. Ready?
" I nodded, tension coiling in my spine.
"You twist out and step back. Pivot. Use your elbow if you have to. Don’t worry about finesse. Just get free."
I tried. I wasn’t graceful or successful the first couple of times. But after about thirty attempts, and some coaching from Sloane, I got free. My breath started coming faster, but the panic didn’t.
Sloane didn’t congratulate me. She nodded once and said, "Good. Again."
We worked in silence, the kind of focused quiet that came from mutual respect. Every time I faltered, she adjusted the drill. Every time I flinched, she waited .
After nearly an hour, she finally called for a break.
My chest was heaving, and I was drenched in sweat.
This felt good. I needed to thank Ilias and Kostas for setting this up.
It had been on my mind for months, but I hadn’t taken that step for many reasons.
Maybe I wasn’t ready for it yet, or perhaps I didn’t have the space in my life.
Now, it was giving me hope that I’d be able to fight back if I were attacked again. I felt capable.
Granted, I had a long way to go before I learned everything. Today was just the first day. I knew that. But I’d keep at it, and eventually I’d be able to defend myself. That’s what I wanted.
We sat on the mat, having some water. "You’ve got good instincts," Sloane said. "You just haven’t had a safe space to use them in. That’s what this is.
You build muscle memory here so you can act when it counts.
It’ll take a while.” She gave me a quiet look.
“I don’t want to build any false confidence either.
This is a skill that you build over time, but every little bit is a brick for your foundation. ”
I nodded. "It feels good. Even if I’m a mess."
"You’re not a mess. You’re rebuilding. There’s a difference." We lapsed into silence again, this one softer. After a beat, she grinned and said, "So, real talk. Tell me about the Anthakos clan. I’ve only met Kostas. Are they all giants?"
I snorted. “Yeah. That’s a fair assessment. What do you think of Kostas?” I was curious how they knew each other.
"He’s hot. Like… morally gray fairy tale hot, but he’s not for me.”
I laughed, surprised at how natural it felt. “Why’s that? He’s a nice guy and super smart.” I’d found myself surprised by how much I liked my new brothers-in-law.
“Of course he is. My life is just complicated. I’m not dating. Kostas must really care about you, too. He vetted me personally, checking my background, service record, and recent clients. What about your new hubby? Things good?”
I noticed she shifted the subject, but I didn’t mind. Her love life wasn’t my business. "He’s been... good to me," I murmured. "Even when I didn’t know what good looked like."
Sloane leaned back on her elbows. "Then let yourself believe you deserve it."
That part, I didn’t respond to, but her words stayed with me. By the time we wrapped up, I was exhausted in the best way. We cleaned up the gear, and Sloane grabbed her jacket. "Same time, day after tomorrow?" she asked.
"Yeah. I’d like that." I walked her to the door, thanking her again. She gave me a quick wave and disappeared through the foyer as one of the guards opened the front door.
I stood there for a moment, hand on the banister, heart still pounding from the training, when Ilias called my name from the kitchen. Giving myself a slight smile and a head shake, I turned toward my husband. I felt happy. Today had been a good day.