Page 44 of The Hermit

Chapter 12

DOMINIK

I watch Grace until she disappears from my sight before I bother to shake hands with Ian.

My eyes flick to the priest, and I mutter, “You can leave.”

The man scurries away, and when he’s out of hearing distance, I tell Ian, “I expect my payment on the last day of every month. If you’re late, you’re dead.”

Offended by my words, his face reddens, but wisely, he doesn’t say anything and just nods.

Done talking to Ian, I walk into the house and cross the foyer before stopping by the front door. I gesture at the luggage while glancing at Martin, one of my guards. “Load the bags and get ready to leave.”

“Yes, sir,” he replies, quickly getting to work.

The other three guards hang back, making sure not to hover around me.

Feeling irritated as fuck because my social battery ran out days ago, I stare at the landing on the second floor, impatiently waiting for Grace and Evinka.

“Wouldn’t it be better to leave Grace with me?” Ian asks, his tone filled with caution.

My eyes flick to the man who’s lucky to be alive. “No.”

He hesitates, and I feel the tension coming off him in waves before he dares to say, “I thought you didn’t want a wife hanging around you twenty-four-seven.”

I silence Ian with a murderous glare and don’t bother replying to him.

Finally, the women appear, and I let out a sigh. Grace is dressed in black jeans and a T-shirt, looking like she’s going to a funeral instead of starting her life with me.

I forcefully soften my features so I don’t terrify her even more and manage a smile when she glances at me.

“Ready?” I ask.

“Never,” she mutters as she walks right by me.

Without saying goodbye to Ian, Grace walks to the SUV where Martin is waiting for us and climbs into the backseat.

Here we go.

I unbutton my jacket as I walk out of the mansion with Evinka and the other guards right behind me.

Shrugging the jacket off, I toss it into the open trunk before I climb into the SUV, taking my seat beside Grace.

While the trunk is shut and Evinka gets into the front passenger seat, I roll up the sleeves of my dress shirt.

Martin shuts the trunk before joining two of the guards in the other SUV while Alan slides behind the steering wheel.

Alan was the first guard I employed, and over the past fourteen years he’s been with us, I’ve lost count of how many times he’s saved Evinka’s life.

Evinka signals with a wave of her hand to get going, and it has Alan starting the engine and driving toward the gates.

Grace doesn’t spare the mansion a look, and as I stare at her, a phone beeps from her bag.

She digs the device out, and I don’t bother looking away, shamelessly reading the message she received.

Ciara: I’m still okay. How are things at home?

For the longest moment Grace just looks at the message before she types a reply.

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