Page 70 of Forbidden Vows

“You have every right to be, but I’m not sure there’s much you can do at this point. The cards were dealt, and she made the engagement official. They’re keeping the wedding date for next month, despite having just buried your father,” he says.

Andrei and Laura join us.

“How are you holding up?” Laura asks me, gently giving my arm a squeeze.

“I’m doing okay. Better than I thought I’d be, but then again, I’ve got you all keeping me sane,” I reply with a timid smile.

“And your stepsister?” Andrei asks, his gaze set on Ciara and Sergei.

“I was just talking about her with Anton. You know what?” I pause, noticing how tight Sergei’s grip is on my sister’s upper arm. She winces from the pain as he pulls her away from an Irish couple, the McDowells, who stopped by to offer their condolences. “I don’t like this. I can’t just stand by.”

“Eileen, wait,” Anton tries to stop me, but it’s too late.

I dash across the clearing, cautiously stepping between the headstones as I make my way over to the area where they’re standing, near the section where the chaplain held our father’s service. Ronan’s portrait still sits there, surrounded by flowers with white ribbons.

“I need to talk to my sister,” I tell Sergei.

He gives me a cold smirk. “Whatever you have to say to her, you can say in front of me.”

“It doesn’t concern you,” I hiss.

“Eileen, there are still people here,” Ciara whispers. “Now isn’t the time for a scene.”

“I’m not trying to make a scene, I’m just trying to talk to you,” I shoot back.

Sergei steps between us, but all that does is piss me off. “You’re out of line, Eileen. Ronan is gone, and you’re not the head of the Donovan family. Ciara is.”

“Good. In that case, I want Ciara to tell me whether we can talk or not.”

“Clearly, she doesn’t wish to be bothered right now.”

My blood boils and I look at my stepsister again. My heart breaks as I catch a flicker of fear in her eyes, but she shakes her head, trying to play it cool.

“It’s not a good time, Eileen. I’d like to be left alone so I can thank the remaining guests and then go home to grieve.”

“We need to talk about what’s going on here, Ciara.”

Sergei scoffs, firm and defiant in his position, determined to bring out the worst in me. “And what is going on here, Mrs. Karpova?”

“You are not yet married, therefore, you have zero say in my family’s affairs. I suggest you back the fuck off and let me talk to Ciara.”

“Eileen, shut up!” Ciara bursts into tears. “Just leave it alone!”

“No.”

“I’ll have you escorted off the grounds,” Sergei hisses.

“I would love to see you try,” Anton interjects.

I glance over my shoulder to see him approaching, Andrei and several of our bodyguards with him. As if summoned, other members of the Bratva begin to approach as well, along with plenty of the Donovan and related Irish families. They’re all curious, concerned, and ready to take this to the next level if needed.

“Anton, I don’t know what sort of agreement you thought you had with Mr. Donovan, but it is no longer in effect. The Donovans have pledged their full support for the Kuznetsov family, for me, specifically,” Sergei declares, loud enough for everyone to hear. “And your wife is being a nuisance to mine.”

“It’s my father’s funeral, you utterly disgusting prick, and Ciara isn’t your wife yet. So, take it down a notch. You don’t own the Donovans!” I hiss.

“Oh, but I do. And Ciara can confirm,” he says, widening his eyes, his inner psychopath shining through.

“What do you mean?” Andrei asks.

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