The Hermit (Mafia Empire Book 1)

I slam my bedroom door shut behind me and only manage a couple of steps before my legs give way beneath me. Sinking to the floor, a sob explodes over my lips.

In a span of mere hours, Ciara has left me and I’m being forced to marry Dominik.

God.

Lifting my hand, I grip the fabric of my shirt as a hopeless cry tears from me.

After everything I’ve done for Ciara, she didn’t trust me enough to tell me she was leaving.

Even though I’ve offered myself as a sacrifice, I never thought it would actually happen. And if it did, at least the marriage would be in name only.

But that’s no longer the case.

Dominik saved my life twice, and he shot Dad for slapping me. There’s no way he’d go through so much trouble for a sexless marriage.

The image of him pinning me down on the bed flashes through my mind.

My breaths come impossibly fast, and my heart thunders in my chest.

I gasp and gasp as my dire situation ravages my mind. My vision grows darker, and when my throat closes up and I’m unable to take another desperate breath, I pass out.

Standing in the backyard, I stare at the house that I have to call home. It’s near impossible for me to go back inside.

Not after last night.

Every movement causes my body to ache, and it feels as if I have shards of glass inside me.

“Grace!” Braden shouts from inside.

I stand still, nauseating fear coating my skin.

When he comes out via the sliding doors, my survival instinct takes over, and I break out into a run. I have no idea where I’m going as I race across the yard.

Even though flowers are in full bloom around me, I don’t see any of it.

Braden plows into my back, and I hit the ground with a harrowing cry.

His fingers brutally grip my hair, and my face is pressed hard into the grass.

I hear his zipper go down, and I lose my mind as I hysterically fight against his hold on me.

Coming to with a fright, sweat coats my body, making my skin feel overheated and sticky.

I become aware that I’m lying on the floor as I gasp for air, the remnants of the nightmare making my stomach spin with nausea.

Tears spill from my eyes, dripping from my face and soaking into the carpet.

I have no idea what time it is, and I have zero strength to get up.

How will I survive Dominik?

Maybe I should just end it all.

My eyes drift shut as the thought wars with my will to live.

No matter how dark things get, there’s always a part of me that believes life will get better.

Will Dominik really not force himself on me? Do I dare hope?

A hopeless sigh shudders from me because there are no answers to any of these questions.

With zero energy, I groan as I pick myself up off the floor. I walk to where my cell phone is lying and grab it.

Opening the chat I have with Ciara, I read her message again before responding.

Grace: I would’ve gone with you. Please be careful out there and check in regularly. I love you more than anything.

After I press send, I notice it’s one am. Knowing I won’t be able to sleep, I glance at my closet.

Do I pack and go with Dominik, or do I refuse to marry him?

Will it help if I fight?

He shot Dad for slapping me. I don’t think me saying no will make any difference. He’d probably knock me unconscious and drag me out of the mansion like a caveman.

Jesus.

My heartbeat speeds up, and a frustrated moan escapes me.

Becoming hysterical has never done me any good, so I close my eyes and take deep breaths in an attempt to calm down.

Once my heartbeat slows down, I walk to my closet and open the doors.

The last time I packed my belongings, I was scared of marrying Braden. But now that I know what marriage is like, fear doesn’t begin to describe what I feel as I pull my bags off the top shelf.

I set them down on the bed, and like a woman who’s been handed a death sentence, I slowly pack one item of clothing after the other.

When the sun breaks over the horizon, I carry my luggage to the front door, where I place the bags on the floor.

I head back to my room and take a quick shower before putting on the black jeans and sweater I chose to wear for the ceremony.

There’s no way I’m wearing white or a dress. I’m not making any effort to look like a bride.

I braid my hair so it’s out of my way before putting on makeup, which I consider my warpaint for the hellish day that awaits me.

I might not have a choice, but I sure as hell won’t make things easy for them.

As I stand up from my dressing table, there’s a knock at the door.

I remain quiet, but it doesn’t stop my unwelcome visitor from shoving the door open.

When Evinka walks into my private space with a garment bag draped over her arm, I start to shake my head.

“I won’t wear whatever’s in that bag,” I snap.

She places the bag on my bed, then lifts an eyebrow at me.

“Take it and leave,” I demand.

She shakes her head while crossing her arms over her chest.

Jesus, she’s probably here to force me into the dress.

I size her up, wondering if I can take her in a fight.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I lunge at Evinka. Within a split second, she somehow flips right over me as if she can fly, wraps an arm around my neck, and sweeps my feet from under me.

I slam down onto the carpet, and it takes a stunned moment to realize Evinka could easily kill me if she wanted to.

She loosens her arm around my neck, and her other hand begins to caress my hair comfortingly.

The soothing gesture is unexpected and makes the floodgates burst wide open.

When I let out a cry, she quickly moves around me and wraps me up in a tight hug. I didn’t realize how desperately I needed some form of comfort, and even though she’s a stranger to me, I cling to her as I break down.

I cry until empty sobs drift over my lips before she gently pushes me backward. Tilting her head, her eyes ask me whether I feel better.

It doesn’t change anything in my life, but the intense tension has lessened.

Her mouth lifts in an encouraging smile as she helps me to climb to my feet, then she points at the garment bag.

With my eyes locked on hers, I ask, “Will he hurt me?”

I watch as she pulls her phone out of her pocket and types something on it before turning the device toward me.

As long as you do as you’re told and don’t betray us in any way, you’ll be safe. Put on the dress. We’re running late, which is something Dominik hates.

When I’m done reading, she pats my shoulder before walking out of the room.

Evinka wouldn’t lie to me, right? There has to be some kind of woman code between us.

Shaking my head, I look at the garment bag.

She’s Dominik’s sister. Don’t try to find an ally in her.

Knowing I’m only angering Dominik more by keeping him waiting, I unzip the bag and remove the wedding dress.

God only knows where he got it.

Reluctantly, I strip out of my jeans and T-shirt before I step into the gown. I manage to pull up the zipper, but I struggle to hook the tiny clips.

Holding onto the back of the dress so it doesn’t fall off, I walk to the door so I can call Maeve to help me. When I open the door, it’s to find Evinka reading something on her phone. Her eyes flick to me, and she gives me a questioning look.

“I’m struggling with the clips at the back. Can you help?”

She nods and gestures for me to move back into the bedroom.

Evinka shuts the door behind us, and while she hooks one clip after the other, I glance down at the mermaid-style dress that fits me perfectly. It’s elegant and gorgeous.

When she’s done, she moves around me and glances up and down my body before smiling with a nod.

Then her eyes lock on my face and she points to my dressing table.

“Right. I must’ve cried off all my makeup,” I mutter.

I walk to the chair and sit down carefully. When I start to clean my face, Evinka takes a seat on the armchair by the window.

I give her a cautious glance before asking, “Have you always been mute?”

Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to be offended by my question as she shakes her head. Lifting her chin, she points at a scar that stretches around half of her neck.

God, whatever caused that scar must’ve hurt a lot.

Meaning the words, I whisper, “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Evinka just shrugs before gesturing with her eyes at the dressing table.

I quickly reapply my makeup, and when I’m done, she gets up and comes to stand behind me. I watch her reflection in the mirror as she undoes the braid in my hair. Grabbing my brush, she pulls it through the strands, and once she’s done, she gives me a satisfied smile.

I get up from the chair and place my hand over my churning stomach as I follow Evinka out of my bedroom.

After crying on Evinka’s shoulder, my stress levels eased a bit, but with every step I take, tension returns tenfold to my body.

As we descend the stairs, I notice Dad’s waiting in the foyer for me.

His head lifts, and his eyes lock on me, his expression strained.

At the foot of the stairs, Evinka leaves me and heads toward the French doors.

“You look beautiful, love,” Dad whispers.

I stare at the man who was supposed to protect me, and all I feel is anger and disappointment.

He holds his arm for me, and I shake my head. “I’ll walk myself to my doom.”

He gives me a pleading look, guilt tightening his features. “There’s nothing I can do to stop Dominik.”

Letting out an enraged burst of laughter, I level him with an unforgiving glare before I walk toward the French doors.

Unlike my first wedding, there’s no wedding march playing.

When I step out onto the veranda, Evinka is standing beside Dominik, who’s talking to a priest.

Dominik is dressed in a black suit, not a hair out of place, and looking way too handsome.

Evinka slaps his shoulder, and his head whips around, his eyes locking on me.

I hear Dad behind me, and needing to prove that I’m stronger than I feel, I force myself to close the distance between Dominik and me. Evinka starts taking photos as if this moment actually means anything.

When I stop beside my husband-to-be, my body’s a trembling mess and my mouth is bone-dry.

The priest, who’s a perfect stranger, doesn’t even look at me as he asks, “Dominik and Grace, do you stand here before God, willing to enter into marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?”

No, no, and no.

“I do,” Dominik answers.

Shit. I do.

I do.

I do.

My lips part, and all that comes out is a pathetic squeak.

Dominik reaches for my hand, but I quickly take a step backward.

The priest must be paid a lot of money because he ignores me completely, and as he continues, I realize the ceremony has been shortened a lot.

The priest only pays attention to Dominik as he says, “Repeat after me. I, Dominik Varga, take you, Grace Devlin, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. I will be loyal and honor you all the days of my life.”

When Dominik repeats his vows, a frown forms on my forehead because ‘love’ has been replaced with ‘loyalty.’

Maybe our marriage will be in name after all? Only time will tell.

“Your turn,” Dominik murmurs, his intense eyes not leaving me for a second.

When my lips part, I tremble horribly. “I, Grace Devlin, take you, Dominik Varga, for my…” my voice disappears, and it has Dominik tilting his head at me.

I quickly clear my throat and rush through the words, “For my lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, hopefully for better, but I get a feeling it will be for worse,” I add my own little twist before continuing, “For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part, which I’ll definitely give my best try if you attempt to consummate this marriage.”

Evinka’s shoulders shake with silent laughter, which she doesn’t even try to hide, while Dominik just smirks at me.

“I will be loyal…” the priest says, reminding me of the last sentence.

“I will be loyal and honor you as long as you do the same,” I mutter.

Evinka hands us two simple gold bands, and when Dominik touches me, my body tenses to breaking point while he pushes the ring onto my finger.

I quickly shove his ring onto his finger and step backward again.

“I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,” the priest announces, and a hot-as-hell smile stretches over Dominik’s face.

Instead of forcing a heated kiss on me like Braden did, Dominik closes the distance between us and only presses a soft kiss to my forehead.

When he pulls back and looks down at me, he says, “You look beautiful in the dress, but go change quickly so we can leave.”

I give him a cautious look, and only when Evinka comes to pull at my arm do I walk away from the spot where I just tied my life to Dominik’s.

I completely ignore Dad, who rushes to Dominik so they can shake hands.

After all, the deal between them is completed now.