Page 42 of The Hermit

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.

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