Page 8 of The Hermit

I climb to my feet, and pulling my jacket open, I reach for the gun tucked into my side chest holster. “I could shoot you right now and just take it all.”

“Wait!” His hand flies up, showing for me to calm down. “For God’s sake, sit down.”

I lift an eyebrow at him, which has him climbing to his feet. Placing his hands on his desk, he leans forward, “I don’t wantto make an enemy of you. With the bratva attacking all over the goddamn world, we need to stand together.”

Tilting my head, I narrow my eyes on him. “Fifty percent.”

“Jesus Christ!” he exclaims before we stare at each other again.

The only thing that matters to me is money and power, and Devlin has a lot of it. There’s nothing else he can give me.

Exhaling another sigh, he says, “I’ll consider it on one condition.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “What?”

“Marry my daughter. If we become family, I’ll give you the shares.”

I pull a disgruntled face, not liking the sound of that at all. I’m a hermit by nature and don’t want anyone else in my personal space.

The only person I deal with often is

Evinka, my second in charge, and the sole reason she doesn’t annoy the fuck out of me is because she’s mute.

Evinka controls my employees, and I only leave my home when I have to take care of an important deal.

Like this one.

She’s the only person I trust because we grew up in the same orphanage and had each other's backs from the beginning.

We might as well be blood-related because I consider her family, and I know she’s always viewed me as an older brother.

She’d probably be laughing her fucking ass off if she were standing in this office right now.

“I’m not husband material,” I mutter, “I prefer solitude.”

“I know.” He moves around the side of the desk and comes to stand in front of me. “Marry her and give me one grandchild. The rest of the time, you don’t even have to see each other. She can go on living her life here in Ireland with me while youcontinue with yours in Slovakia. A marriage and one grandchild for fifty percent of the shares.”

“Jebat,” I mutter something similar to ‘fuck’ under my breath.

The corner of his mouth lifts. “Come on. It’s a fucking good deal, and you’ll get an heir. It’s a win-win for both of us. We’ll be unbeatable.”

He’s right.

Grace’s wide gray eyes flit through my mind. Even though she was beaten up, it didn’t do much to hide her beauty.

“She stays here,” I mutter.

Devlin nods quickly.

“Does she know I made her a widow?”

Confusion settles on his face. “You’re not marrying Grace. I’m talking about Ciara.”

My eyes narrow on his face. “Why not Grace? She’s the oldest.”

“Ciara is more submissive and won’t give us hell about the arrangement.”

Not my kind of woman at all.

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