Page 17 of Ivory Oath

“That, too,” I mutter dismissively.

“Then there’s no chance you’d bring Viviana back, so Otets could have lied to you.” Anatoly watches me closely as he says it. I know he’s paying attention to every flicker of emotion across my face.

There is no chance I’m bringing Viviana back.

There should be no chance that Viviana comes back into this house.

And yet…

“Anything is possible,” I bite out grudgingly.

“Spoken like a man who's getting married tomorrow,” Anatoly snorts. “Or have you forgotten that your wedding to Helen Drakos is happening in less than eighteen hours?”

“I haven’t forgotten anything,” I lie.

I forget about Helen hourly. I need to keep the Greeks happy to make sure Dante is safe, but I’d be willing to do it in many ways that have nothing at all to do with marrying Helen.

“Because we’re going to have a much bigger mess to clean up than our father if you back out of this engagement a second time. The Drakos family is ready to defend Helen’s honor if they have to.”

There will definitely be some honor to defend once the Greeks find out I’m still married to another woman. Annulment papers were drawn up by my lawyer, but I haven’t signed them. I haven’t even attempted to track down Viviana and have her sign them, either.

Legally, I can’t marry Helen tomorrow.

Morally, I won’t.

“Trofim is alive and an imminent threat,” Anatoly recounts. “The Greeks are a dark cloud over our heads. We have a lot of enemies and few friends. We can’t afford to do anything stupid here, Mik.”

I toss back the rest of my drink. I should be trying to clear my head, not make things muddier.

Then again, when I think about it, things have always been clear.

“My father turned me into a ruthless, cold-hearted pakhan,” I announce, rising to my feet to face my brothers. “I’m finally the man he always wanted me to be.”

Anatoly and Raoul share a look before Raoul asks, “What does that mean?”

“It means,” I explain, “that I know what I have to do. And nothing is going to change my mind.”

8

VIVIANA

Bright white sand sprawls for miles. Turquoise water stretches to the horizon and sparkles in the sunlight.

Dante is down by the shoreline, his swim trunks pulled up to his belly button. He’s hurrying around with a red pail and plastic shovel in his hands, trying to finish construction on his sandcastle before the tide comes in.

“It’s like a picture.” I tip my head back to breathe in the salty air. It almost burns my throat, but I can’t really complain. I’m in paradise.

Strong arms wrap around my middle from behind. A stubbled chin rests on my shoulder. I know without looking that it’s Mikhail. His hands circle around my stomach.

I glance down and I can’t see the toes I know are buried in the sand. My baby bump is in the way. I let myself sink back against Mikhail’s chest.

“Because it is,” he whispers in my ear.

“Hmm?” I hum, my eyes fluttering closed.

I’m exhausted, but I don’t want to leave the beach. I don’t even want the sun to set. Each time I open my eyes, the sun looks a little lower in the sky. Dante is working on his castle, but he’s getting closer and closer to the water.

I curl my hand around my mouth. “Dante, come back in! You’re too close to the water!”

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