The Hermit (Mafia Empire Book 1)

Since the meeting, which didn’t offer any solutions, my emotions have been all over the place.

It was one hell of a shock to learn Dominik was the person who killed Braden.

I always said I’d send the person a thank you card, and now that I know who saved me from a life of hell, I’m not sure how to feel.

I’m thankful and…shocked. I’m just shocked out of my mind.

And he rescued me from the Russians.

I owe Dominik for saving my life twice. Jesus, how do I repay a man like him?

There’s also his strong reaction to hearing Braden raped me. I didn’t expect anything from Dominik, yet he was so angry it terrified me.

I won’t admit it out loud, but a tiny piece of my heart is thankful for his reaction. Dominik didn’t sugarcoat it. Not like Dad does.

He made my trauma feel justified and that I wasn’t overreacting.

But I can’t sit here all day thinking about my own problems.

I skipped dinner, not ready for another conversation with Dad and Dominik, but I know I’m running out of time.

I rub my hand over my tired eyes and let out a sigh, “What am I going to do about Ciara?”

Dad’s hell-bent on pawning her off on Dominik, who seems okay with settling for me.

Still, I don’t want to marry him either. I don’t think I’ll survive a second marriage.

Letting out a sigh, I stare at my bedroom door.

Get up and face them for Ciara.

I climb to my feet and suck in a deep breath of air before I leave my room. I stop by Ciara’s bedroom, and after knocking, I push the door open.

When I don’t see her, I walk inside and check the bathroom.

“I swear, if they cornered her at dinner, I’ll kill them,” I growl as I rush out of her bedroom.

I race down the stairs, and as the foyer comes into view and I see Dad heading toward his office, I ask, “Where’s Ciara?”

He shrugs as he keeps walking. “Probably in her room. She also skipped dinner.” He pauses to glance at me. “It doesn’t help hiding. We’re finishing this conversation tonight, so tell her to come down.”

“She’s not there,” I say. “I just checked.”

Dad points toward the back of the house. “Maybe she’s outside.”

A heavy sigh escapes me for what feels like the hundredth time today. I head to the French doors, thinking there’s no way Ciara would risk running into Dominik.

Before I step out onto the veranda an uneasy feeling skitters down my spine, and spinning around, I rush back to her bedroom. Slamming the door open, I glance over her dressing table and other furniture.

When I see the folded piece of paper on her bed, the blood in my veins chills.

I dart forward and swiping it up off the covers, I quickly open it.

Grace,

I have to leave. Please don’t worry. It’s time for me to be the strong one.

I love you more than anything.

Ciara.

“No,” I gasp, my eyes flying over her neat handwriting again. “God, Ciara!”

I turn around and run to my bedroom, where my phone is lying on the windowsill by the armchair. I grab the device and quickly dial Ciara’s number.

The call connects, and it rings four times before it’s declined.

“Jesus, Ciara,” I cry while bringing up our chat.

Grace: Tell me where you are. I’ll join you.

It takes too long for my hammering heart for her to read the message.

Ciara: Please don’t be angry and understand it’s something I need to do on my own. I’m so thankful for everything you’ve done for me. I love you.

My lips part, and tears sting my eyes as I stare at her reply.

She left without me.

It hurts so much I drop the phone onto the floor while staring at the dark night outside my window.

Ciara left me behind.

I have no idea how much time passes before there’s a knock at my door. A moment later, I hear Maeve say, “Your father wants you and Ciara in his office.”

“I’m coming,” I whisper, my heart laying broken at my feet.

“Grace?” Maeve asks. “Are you okay?”

No. I’m the farthest thing from okay.

I told Ciara I would protect her and she didn’t trust me to do so. Instead, she ran away from home.

She ran away from me.

“Yes,” I murmur. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Okay,” she replies before leaving.

The strength I had to face Dad and Dominik is nowhere in sight. With Ciara gone, there’s nothing to fight for anymore.

I feel abandoned and lost as I brush my trembling hand over my stomach.

I can’t believe Ciara left without me.

I suck in a shaky breath as a tear spirals over my cheek, and using the pads of my fingers, I brush the drop away.

My throat strains as I fight to suppress a sob, and my breaths become choppy.

“Grace! Ciara!” I hear Dad’s voice thunder through the mansion.

Automatically, my legs move, and with every step I take, my world darkens.

Many times, I’ve said I would marry Dominik, but now that there’s an actual possibility of it happening, my own fear takes precedence over Ciara’s safety.

She’s out of their reach, which puts me in the direct line of fire.

I won’t survive a second marriage. Just thinking about being intimate makes me feel sick to my stomach.

I’d rather die.

DOMINIK

I’ve been waiting impatiently for the women to join us so we can put this matter to rest. I have a shit ton of work and need to get going.

When Grace finally steps into the office, I immediately notice her pale face and unnaturally dark gaze.

My heart slowly starts to beat faster as I ask, “What’s wrong?”

She looks as if she’s been dealt one hell of a blow, and there’s no fire anywhere to be seen in her eyes.

She sucks in a breath, and it shudders over her lips as she exhales.

Instinctively, I step closer to her and take hold of her arm. “Grace? What happened?”

Her eyes lift to mine, and there’s no fight in them as she says, “Ciara’s gone.”

“What?” Ian gasps. He darts around his desk and shouts, “What did you do?!”

“Watch your fucking tone,” I snap angrily at the bastard before looking at Grace again. “What do you mean she’s gone?”

Her face tightens as if she’s in an unbearable amount of pain, then she says, “She ran away.”

Grace lifts her hand and seeing the piece of paper, I take it from her and read the short note before passing it to Ian.

“God dammit,” he hisses. “I’ll send men to search for her immediately.”

I don’t give a shit about Ciara, and not missing the chance she’s offered me by running away, I say, “I don’t have time to look for her. I’m marrying Grace.”

Grace gingerly pulls her arm out of my hold and lowers her head. Her reaction to my words makes a storm build in my chest.

She thinks I’ll do the same to her as Mallon did. I get the feeling reassuring her with words won’t make any difference.

Ian begins to shake his head, and it has me patting a hand beneath the gun strapped to my chest. My tone is laced with a clear warning not to try and fight me as I growl, “I’m marrying Grace.”

“She’s damaged,” Ian argues.

My eyes narrow on the man who’s dangerously close to meeting his maker.

“I have a fond appreciation for damaged things.” Considering the subject closed, I order, “There won’t be a massive wedding. Arrange for someone to marry us first thing tomorrow morning. After the ceremony, I want to leave immediately.”

Frustration ghosts over Ian’s face, but he doesn’t fight me again and nods.

I turn to leave the office but pause to say, “Don’t try to run, Grace. If I have to hunt you down, I won’t be happy.”

Her movements are shaky as she lifts her head to meet my eyes. I’ve gotten used to seeing her gray irises alive with fire, and the resigned look she has doesn’t sit well with me.

By my side, she’ll get stronger like Evinka did. It will take time, but one day, Grace will realize I’m not the monster she thinks I am.

“Be ready at six am. There’s no time to waste,” I say before walking out of the office.

“Didn’t Ciara say anything to you?” I hear Ian ask.

“Right after Dominik arrived, she mentioned running away,” Grace murmurs.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?!”

I stop walking and clench my jaw as I contemplate putting a bullet in Ian for raising his voice at Grace.

“Why would I tell you anything?” Grace asks, her tone void of emotion. “You’ve done nothing but undermine us and put us at risk.”

When a slap echoes through the air, I spin around as I yank my gun from the holster. Stalking back into the office, I don’t think twice as I train the weapon on Devlin’s right arm.

Pulling the trigger, the shot rings through the office, ripping a scream from Grace, who quickly covers her ears with her hands while her terrified eyes fly to me.

Ian lets out a startled shout, grabbing his bicep where the bullet hit. With an incredulous look, he stares at me.

“Next time you hit Grace, I’ll fucking kill you.” I give him the courtesy of a final warning because he’s Grace’s father.

If he were any other man, he’d be lying dead in a pool of blood.

I grab hold of my fiancée’s hand, and stalking out of the office, I drag her behind me.

Only when we reach the bottom of the stairs do I stop. I shove my gun back into the holster and let go of Grace’s hand.

“No man is to lay a finger on you,” I order. “Understand?”

She quickly nods, and even though I scared the everloving shit out of her, she still lifts her gaze to mine. For a long moment, she stares at me, and only when her eyes begin to brim with unshed tears does she turn away from me.

I watch as she climbs the stairs, and when she reaches the second floor, I call out, “Pack everything you want to bring with you.”

Her head spins around, and her eyes widen, shock rippling over her face. “What?”

“Make sure you pack everything you’ll need,” I repeat.

Her lips part, and I watch as she realizes something that makes terror tighten her features.

Her voice is hoarse when she asks, “I’m going with you?”

A frown darkens my forehead as I reply, “Of course.”

“But you said Ciara could stay in Ireland,” she argues, her face growing paler by the second. “The marriage was only supposed to be in name.”

“I had no interest in Ciara,” I mutter.

Grace stares at me for the longest time, horror bleeding over her face. Slowly, she blinks before she closes her eyes.

Not liking her reaction one bit, I climb the stairs. When I reach her, I lift my hand and take hold of her chin, nudging her head back so she’ll look at me.

“You’re coming with me, Grace,” I say so there’s no misunderstanding between us. “You’ll be safe with me.”

Her eyebrows draw together, then she rips her chin out of my hold. Looking hopeless and heartbroken, she lets out an empty-sounding chuckle. “Until you decide to consummate the marriage.”

I shake my head. “I don’t need to fuck you to prove we’re married.” My eyes drift over her pale skin, which makes the healing bruises even more visible. “I’ll never force myself on you.”

She lets out a burst of skeptical laughter. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

With my eyes locked on hers, I promise, “Forever if it has to.”

Frowning at me, she shakes her head. “Why marry me then?”

“You don’t annoy me,” I mutter as I turn around and head back down the stairs. “Pack your belongings and be ready at six.”

I suppress the urge to glance over my shoulder at my future bride as I head to the French doors.

Ian comes out of the office and rushes across the foyer while gripping his bleeding arm. “A little help would be nice, Grace,” he calls out.

“I had to clean up my own blood after Braden beat me,” Grace replies. “I’m sure you can manage just like I had to.”

The corner of my mouth lifts as I step out onto the veranda.