Carl Gallagher Novels & Stories

– Elliot Antonio grabbed his own hair. He felt the water washing over him like it was nothing. His mind was full. Just now the man had almost - almost devoured Rose. But now his thoughts quickly shifted. Of course she remembered who Carl was, and how important the information he brought was. In the past, Carl, who was one of the confidants of the Sicilian mafia, had an argument with the international police because of a misunderstanding. Carl was fatally shot in the stomach. Antonio helped him and brought the man to Hugo, an acquaintance and good friend during the black business. By exchanging Nathan's blood, which is rare because he has RH-null, which he got from the marriage of his parents

He didn't want to go her wrong impression about him! Chantelle sat down on the bed, still processing what had just happened. It was a strange mix of emotions - embarrassment, gratitude, and relief. But the thing that stood out to her the most was the sense of safety and comfort she felt around Delcan. It was a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time, and she savored it. She knew that she was on the path to healing, and Delcan was helping her every step of the way.

I need a video of her writing the email, sending it—something undeniable, not just this circumstantial bullshit. “Carl,” Jax suddenly says, drawing our attention. I wait for him to explain what he means. “It’s Carl. He’s the only person who has it in for Dhalia, and we know he’s tried leaving the city and failed.” Jax is right. Carl tried to run after we warned him what was coming, but he’s not stupid. He knows he can’t escape us. Maybe this is his way of putting doubt in our minds about Dhalia. If that’s his plan, it’s not going to work.

The officer who had been checking the victim's information said, "Ms. Garcia, we've confirmed the victim's identity. His name was Carl Atkins, Mosby's senior apprentice. He was somewhat of a celebrity in Blumedale!" "Package the body and send it to the deceased's family," Chantelle ordered coldly. One of the officers asked, "Ms. Garcia, should we issue a warrant?" Chantelle shook her head. "No need. I know who the killer is." The officer smiled. "That makes things easier. Ms. Garcia, you can lead us to make the arrest. This guy was ruthless—he smashed Carl's face completely. Not to mention his chest, with who knows how many broken bones. We need to bring this outlaw to justice…"

The doors burst open, and Carl, the notorious bad boy biker, strode in, commanding attention. He was dressed in a sleek black leather jacket, his hair perfectly messy, and his eyes gleaming with confidence. The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. The professor who was about to teach went speechless at the sight of Carl. Carl cocked his brows and flashed him a warm smile. “I'm not here to cause any distractions, sir.. but I'm here to check on someone..” He said and there was a loud, “Awww!” From the ladies. Some of them brought out their phones, eager to record the wonderful moments and capture the stunning appearance of the famous bicker in their medical hall.

Liana’s POV I turn my attention back to the alpha, observing his kilt crafted from vibrant red tartan. My eyes unintentionally drift down to his calves, which resemble thick tree trunks. I gulp nervously. “They’re the same, aren’t they?” he remarks. “So?”

The groans of the injured echoed faintly against the marble walls. And in the middle of it, him. Nolan. Standing tall, chest heaving, blood soaking his shirt. His eyes were still sharp, searching the room as though he refused to let his guard down even now. He was tending to a few who are wounded. He was taking care of them, making sure that they were all right. He was helping out with lifting anything that was heavy. But I saw it. The way his left shoulder hung wrong. The deep gash along his collarbone, still dripping. He was doing his best not to show, but I knew that it hurts him. I had seen the way the rogue bit him.

His arm rested loosely around me for a moment before he seemed to think better of it, crossing his legs and folding his hands over his knee. I noticed a tattoo peeking from the sleeve of his right arm, partially hidden by his shirt cuff. It looked like a tail... maybe a wolf's? "And for the record, I'm not a murderer. I run the Velgrave Gang," he added casually, clearly catching me staring at his arm, and distracting me just as he tugged his sleeve down. Gang? Mafia thing? The words like Mafia, gang were forbidden in my house. When I was seven, Carl hadn't yet spiraled into addiction and gambling. Our family hadn't gone bankrupt. My mom was still healthy. My brother, Adrian, left home after

More than he felt sorry, he was now more offended. Gwenevere nodded her head and dipped her hands in her bag. "I'm calling the cops"

He had a frustrated look on his face, but it was wiped away when we locked eyes. There was another man sitting on the other side of the desk, someone I kind of recognized. I hadn't really met Killian's beta, but I knew what he looked like. Beta Gabriel was intimidating as all hell. When he smiled, which was rare, it lit his face up like a little boy. His head was shaved, and he had a nasty scar that ran down his neck and under his shirt. Gabriel was the second most intimidating person I have met, Killian being number one.