Page 25 of The Hermit

After a few seconds of thinking, I say, “If the bratva takes over Europe, it will cut out a huge chunk of my business.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Ian mutters. “It will affect my business as well.”

His business. Funny.

Sooner rather than later, Ian will realize he has no power anymore.

Shifting in my seat, I pull out my phone and open a group chat where I add Leo Toscano, Enzo Oliveira, and Ilias Dimitrou. Sending a voice message, I say, “I hear the bratva is attacking. It’s time to form an alliance or face them on your own. Decide now.”

While I wait for their responses, I glance at Ian. “Things are about to get really interesting.”

He lets out a tired-sounding chuckle. “I’m not looking forward to it all.”

My phone vibrates, and I watch as one message after the other comes in.

Leo: I’m in.

Enzo: Fuckers raided two of my warehouses and killed over ten of my men. I’m in.

Ilias: What’s the catch?

I let out a soft burst of laughter before I send another voice message, “There’s no catch, old man. Either we stand together, or you fight on your own.”

Ilias: I hear you’re making a play for fifty percent of Devlin’s business. What guarantee do I have you won’t try to do the same once I agree to an alliance?

Dominik: I’m not interested in your business.

Leo: I don’t have time for this. Are we going to meet?

Dominik: I’ll find a safe place and set up a date and time.

I get a thumbs up from Leo and Enzo, and only then does Ilias reply.

Ilias: Fine, but this better not be a trick.

When I tuck my phone back into my pocket, Ian gives me a questioning look.

Climbing to my feet, I say, “I’m setting up a meeting with the Italians, Greeks, and Portuguese. If we form an alliance, we can beat the bratva.”

A frown quickly forms on his forehead while he stands up as well. “Why didn’t you add me to the group?”

Grace storms into the office, but it doesn’t stop me from replying, “After signing fifty percent over to me this afternoon, you now only have a quarter interest in the arms market, Devlin. You don’t have a place at the table.”

His features darken with anger.

I walk toward Grace, and when she shoots me a glare, I stop beside her and ask, “Would you feel better if I let you bite me again?”

Her expression becomes downright savage as she stares at me. “Next time, I’ll draw blood.”

“I’ll take that as a promise,” I reply with a smirk before walking to the door. “Have a good night.”

When I step into the hallway, I hear Grace hiss, “That man has to go, Dad!”

“Hush,” Ian whispers. “He can hear you.”

“I don’t care!” she exclaims. “He attacked me in my bedroom.”

I stop walking, shamelessly listening in on their conversation.

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