The Hermit (Mafia Empire Book 1)

I should be upset, but as I watch Grace lose her shit, I’m actually impressed.

The fire burning in her eyes is so intense I’m starting to think she’s about to physically attack her father. Then my gaze shifts to the mouse hiding against Grace’s side, and my top lip curls.

Definitely not my kind of woman.

My eyes flick back to the fierce expression making Grace look like a fucking queen.

She was beaten to within an inch of her life, but there’s no sign of the trauma I saw in her eyes last night.

There’s only the fire to protect her sister.

I guess my first impression of her was wrong. When I crashed through the window and saw Pavlov’s right-hand man beating Grace, I didn’t feel a flicker of pity for her. When I looked into her wide eyes filled with horror and fear, she seemed weak and broken.

She also shrieked like a fucking banshee in my ear and clung to me like a spider monkey when I leaped out of the building.

And not even a minute after driving away, she passed out.

I thought Grace was just another weak mafia princess.

As I stare at the fierce woman, I realize just how wrong I was about her.

If I cared about having a wife and building a family life for myself, I’d insist on marrying Grace. At least a marriage with her would be interesting.

But I don’t care about trivial things like love, family, and marriage, so the mouse will do.

I don’t even have to fuck her. We can go the artificial insemination route to have a child.

My eyebrow lifts at the thought, really liking it.

Sex isn’t an essential part of my life. Come to think of it, it has probably been over a decade since I last got laid.

It doesn’t matter, because being intimate with someone means letting them into your life.

Like I said, I’m a hermit, and the mere thought of being around people tires me. I need months to recover from one day of social interaction, so having a woman in my personal space is not an option at all.

“Grace, you will calm down,” Devlin demands.

A smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth, then Grace’s stormy gray eyes flick to me. When her gaze narrows on my smirk, there’s a burst of adrenaline in my veins.

Her voice vibrates with rage as she doubles down and says, “You will not marry Ciara.” She inhales sharply before continuing. “I’m grateful for what you did last night, but my sister is off-limits.”

Enjoying the volatile situation a little too much, I can’t resist fucking with her. I cross my arms over my chest and raise my eyebrow at her. “Then what will you give me for my trouble?”

Her lips part, and for a split second, a weird mixture of disappointment and fear flashes over her features before returning to an aggressive glare.

“My gratitude is all you’ll get,” she grits out between clenched teeth.

The scab on her bottom lip splits open, and blood trickles down her chin. Not taking her eyes off me, she uses the back of her hand to wipe it away, only smearing the crimson trail over her skin and leaving a streak behind.

The blood makes her look even more fierce, and my heart skips a fucking beat.

The instant I feel attraction toward Grace, I shut it down, and my head snaps in Devlin’s direction. “I’m running out of patience, Ian.”

Panic ghosts over his face before he pins Grace with a stern look. “Enough! Go clean yourself up and calm down. I’ll talk to you later.”

When Grace takes hold of Ciara’s arm, he snaps, “Without Ciara! I swear I’ll lock you in your bedroom if you continue with this absurd behavior.”

Grace surprises me by letting out a burst of laughter, then her expression grows icy as she says, “I’d like to see you try.” She takes a step toward her father. “Push this matter, and I’ll take Ciara and leave. We’re grown women and don’t need you to survive.”

“Jesus Christ, Grace!” Devlin shouts. “Leave before I say something I’ll regret.”

Grace makes a show of taking Ciara’s hand and proceeds to pull her sister out of the living room.

Artificial insemination, it will have to be, seeing as Grace won’t let me touch Ciara with a ten-foot pole.

A smile curves my lips for the second time, catching me off guard, but I quickly wipe it from my face.

When I’m alone with Devlin, I mutter, “You have quite the fiery daughter.”

“I apologize,” he sighs. “I’ll get her under control. Just give the girls time to process the news.”

My eyes flick to him. “Let me know when the wedding will be held.”

“You have to get to know Ciara. She’s a sensitive soul.”

No, thank you. I have zero interest in the mouse.

“Stay with us for a few days,” he says. “We need to discuss the wedding and take care of business anyway.”

I cross my arms over my chest again. “How long is a few days?”

“Until the wedding.” He gives me a smile. “It will take a month at the very least.”

A month.

In this house.

With these people.

God help me.

“I’m used to being alone,” I say unnecessarily. Everyone who knows me is aware of that fact.

Devlin gives me a pleading look. “There’s a cottage at the back of the property. You’ll have plenty of privacy.”

My house, if you can call it that, is in the Tetra Mountains, which are part of the Carpathian chain between Slovakia and Poland. It’s more of a bunker that breaks through the side of the mountain, overlooking a forest and lake down below in a valley.

There isn’t another living person within miles of my place. It’s just me and the mountain out there, and the only person who’s ever set foot in my home is Evinka.

The cottage won’t be far enough from these people.

Jebat.

I let out a disgruntled sigh. “A few days. I’m not staying a month.”

Devlin quickly nods, looking pleased as fuck. “Take a seat while I tell my housekeeper to ready the cottage.”

As he leaves the living room, I let out a heavy sigh. Instead of sitting down, I walk to the windows and glance over the front yard, where guards stand by their posts.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and pulling the device out, I see a message from Evinka.

Evinka: How long will you still be in Ireland?

I type out a reply that’s sure to make silent laughter burst from her.

Dominik: For a while longer. I’ve agreed to an arranged marriage with Devlin’s daughter so I can get fifty percent of his business.

I watch as she reads, and a second later, it shows she’s typing. Soon, a string of laughing emojis pop up on my screen.

Evinka: Nice one. When will you be back home?

Dominik: I’m not joking. I’ll be here for a few days to arrange the wedding and take care of business. BTW, you’ll have to attend as my best man.

This time, when it shows she’s read it, my screen goes black, and minutes tick by before it lights up again with her response.

Evinka: What. The. Fuck?

Dominik: Fifty percent of Devlin’s business.

Evinka: Still. You’re not the marrying type. You’ll kill the poor woman for breathing too loud.

Dominik: The marriage will mainly be in name. She’ll stay in Ireland.

Evinka: Oh. That could work. Are you sure about this? You’ll be tied to Devlin for life.

Dominik: Again. Fifty percent of his business.

Evinka: I hear you.

Evinka: I guess good luck is in order then.

More laughing emojis follow, making me shake my head before I tuck the device back into my pocket.

I feel the air shift and turn my head slightly as I listen to the soft footfall of steps coming in the direction of the living room.

A moment later, Grace asks, “Where’s my father?”

I turn around to face her while shoving my left hand into the pocket of my suit pants. “He’s gone to talk to your housekeeper.” She turns to walk away, and it has me saying, “Grace.”

As fun as it was watching her stand up to her father, I have to draw a line so she’ll know I won’t tolerate being disrespected.

She glances at me with an arched eyebrow.

Slowly, I walk closer to her until she’s forced to tilt her head back to look at me. I take in the purple and blue bruises on her face before capturing her gaze.

My words are filled with warning as they rumble from my chest. “Just because I’m marrying your sister doesn’t mean I’ll take it easy on you.” I let a few seconds pass so my words can register with her. “Don’t ever disrespect me.”

I watch as her gray eyes grow stormy while they narrow on me. “You’re not marrying my sister.”

I lean a little down, my tone darker as I say, “Over your dead body, right?”

A flash of fear tightens her features even more, and I’m surprised when she sticks to her guns and replies, “Yes. You’ll have to kill me to get to Ciara.”

I’m starting to think she has no regard for her own life. If only she had fought half as hard for herself last night, she might have fewer bruises.

“The marriage will be in name only,” I say, hoping it will calm her temper. The last thing I’m in the mood for is to fight with this woman for the next week or so.

Grace lifts her chin, and my eyes lower to the fresh scab forming on her bottom lip as she mutters, “I don’t care.” Then a weird expression settles on her face before she says, “All it will take is one day with a man like you to break my sister, and I won’t allow it. She will never be your wife for you to do with as you please.”

The weird expression on her face registers, dragging a memory from my past to the surface.

Evinka runs barefoot across the ice-covered ground as if hell itself is chasing her, a terrified expression on her face.

Taking in her torn sweater and missing pants, my heart explodes into a worried tempo. I hardly have time to open my arms before she plows into my chest, her body convulsing with silent sobs.

I shove the memory back into the pits of hell where my soul was formed and say, “I don’t plan on touching your sister. I’m absolutely fine with artificial insemination.”

Grace’s eyes widen with surprise as she gasps, “What?”

“The marriage will be in name only,” I repeat myself for the last time. “I have no interest in your weak sister.”

My last sentence makes the anger return to Grace’s eyes. “If you expect us to respect you, you will watch what you say about Ciara. She’s the sweetest and most caring person you’ll ever meet and doesn’t deserve to be bad-mouthed in any way.”

I should’ve lost my temper already. Any other person and my gun would be drawn and ready to bury a bullet in their head.

But for some reason, I’m calm as fuck as I stand before this woman.

Not only am I calm, but once again, I can’t resist pushing her buttons by leaning down until our faces are a mere inch apart. “But not you? Just Ciara?” The corner of my mouth lifts a little. “Will you let me do whatever I want to you as long as I spare your precious sister?”

Again, fear returns to her eyes, and this time, they even look a little wounded.

Her breaths warm the space between us, and I become aware of her chest rising and falling rapidly.

For the longest moment, Grace just stares into my eyes, and it takes way too fucking long for me to notice the glazed-over expression in her gray irises.

A frown forms on my forehead, and pulling a little back, my eyes dart over her face. Outwardly, she looks like she’s stuck in a daydream, but her eyes keep darkening with trauma until they seem to tremble.

When I lift my hand and manage to place it on her shoulder without her reacting, I’m dead sure she’s having a silent panic attack, just like the ones Evinka used to have when we were much younger.

Before I can think my actions through, I move my hand up and cup her cheek with my palm while standing rooted to the spot.

I should leave her be and get Devlin to deal with his daughter, but instead, I lean closer to her again and match my breathing to her fast puffs. Just like I used to do with Evinka, I gradually slow my breathing, and I’m pleased when Grace’s body follows suit as her breaths slow down until they’re regular again.

She blinks a couple of times before her eyes widen on me. We stare at each other for way too long before she finally yanks her cheek away from my palm. Without another word, she swings around and hightails it down the hallway.

I let out a deep sigh and shake my head as I watch her blond hair sway against her back.

That cottage better be ready because I need my solitude to recharge my social battery that’s passed red and nearing black.