Page 60 of The Hermit

“Fucking Russians are trying to get into my market with cheaper stock,” I mutter as anger ignites in my chest.

After the meeting on the island, I’ll have to deal with the bratva.

Unlocking my cell phone screen again, I bring up a number and press dial.

“What can I do for you?” Luis, a manager for my factory in Peru, answers.

“Has the bratva contacted you?”

“No, but I’ve heard they struck a deal with Javier Rojas,” he informs me.

Jebat!

Javier Rojas runs one of the biggest cartels in South America and is a thorn in Santiago’s side. The last thing we need is the Rojas cartel siding with the bratva.

“Let me know if you hear anything else,” I order.

“Will do. Be careful. It feels like there’s a storm coming.”

“You too. Try to move the shipments faster than usual and switch up your routine.”

I end the call and drop my phone on the desk while rising to my feet.

“Boha vyjebaneho,” I mutter, my tone filled with rage. “Fucking bratva.”

Needing to let off steam, I stalk out of my office and head to the gym that’s set up in the basement.

As I stalk through the kitchen to get to the stairs, Grace comes in from outside.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Fine,” I mutter before taking the stairs down.

I switch on the lights, then grabbing hold of the shirt at the back of my neck, I rip it over my head. Dropping the fabric on the floor, I head straight for the punching back and hit the shit out of it.

Only when I’ve worked up a sweat do I stop to catch my breath.

I walk to the cabinet and pull a towel from it to wipe my face. When I turn around, it’s to find Grace standing with my shirt neatly folded in her hands, her eyes locked on me with worry.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” she asks, her tone cautious.

I let out a sigh before answering, “The bratva.” Figuring the sooner she learns about my world, the better, I explain, “It looks like the bratva is trying to team up with the Rojas cartel.”

I walk closer to her and watch as her eyes drift down my bare chest before stopping at the words, ‘survival of the fittest,’ tattooed on my abdomen.

Is she eye-fucking me right now?

She stares at my chest for way longer than is socially acceptable before realizing I’m watching her.

Instantly, her cheeks turn pink and she shoves my shirt at me. I barely have time to grab hold of the fabric before she spins around and practically runs away from me.

Letting out an amused chuckle, I shrug on my shirt before leaving the gym.

Chapter 16

GRACE

My cheeks are on fire from being caught staring at Dominik’s chest.

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