Page 71 of Forbidden Vows

Ciara averts her gaze, her cheeks blushing red with shame.

My stomach drops and I’m damn near breathless. “Ciara, what did you do?”

Sergei’s smug smile speaks volumes. Paul Mattis, his business partner, snakes his way into the conversation, pulling out a document from his inner suit jacket pocket. I immediately notice what appears to be Ciara and Dad’s signatures on it. I can feel my knees caving in as I read the top line.

“Fiduciary powers,” I mutter.

“That’s right. Ronan decided to hand the reins over to me with his dying breath, and Ciara agreed,” Sergei replies.

Paul nods, a disgusting grin on his face. “I bore witness, and it was notarized accordingly.”

“Dad would never do that. Ciara, what the hell did you do?”

My knees give out, but Anton holds me close and snatches the paper from Paul’s hand. “This doesn’t look like Ronan’ssignature,” he says.

“Challenge it in court, if you have the balls,” Paul sneers.

“Until then, I’m in charge of the Donovan businesses as a trusted fiduciary. And I’m also Ciara’s fiancé, which fully legitimizes me to tell you all to fuck off, so she can grieve in peace. These past few days have been hard on her,” Sergei says.

Andrei shakes his head. “Seriously, Sergei? This is what you’ve resorted to? Fraud? Manipulation? What do you have on the poor girl to have subdued her like this?”

“She loves me.”

“Bullshit,” I reply and look at Ciara. “Tell me you didn’t agree to this.”

“I did,” she hesitantly replies. “And you need to accept it. Dad’s gone. Somebody needed to take over.”

“Yeah, you! That was the plan! That’s always been the plan. It’s the only reason I backed away, because I trusted you to take over!”

“I’m going to be a Kuznetsov wife. My children will lead the Donovan family when they come of age. Until then, Sergei is in charge.”

“Spoken like a true puppet,” Andrei says.

Sergei takes a step forward. “Mind your tongue, Andrei. Soon enough, you’ll be answering to me.”

“Eileen can still contest this garbage,” Anton cuts in. “Technically speaking, she’s very much at the top of Ronan’s last will and testament.”

“Not anymore. I had the old man add an addendum there, as well,” Sergei says. “Again, good luck fighting us in court.”

“We’ll see you in the streets,” Andrei growls.

Anton firmly pushes him back. “Don’t. Not here, not now.”

“What is the meaning of this?” the chaplain intervenes, red-faced and furious. “A man was just laid to rest less than twenty feet away! Show some respect!”

I know Chaplain Carter. He’s buried his share of Donovans, Fedorovs, and Kuznetsovs, as well as others from Chicago’s most dangerous and powerful families. He knows where this discussion will lead if he doesn’t put a lid on it. He’s got his sacred collar to shield him, though. Nobody’s going to touch him.

“He’s right,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I can’t take my eyes off Ciara, though. That’s not my sister anymore. Something happened between the day we reconnected and the morning I got the news about Dad’s passing from Paddy. I know Sergei is at the center of all of it. “We can’t do this here.”

“We’ll do it another time, don’t worry,” Sasha Popov cuts in. He’s Oleg’s son, and he’s a fierce supporter of the Karpovs. “Sergei just declared war.”

“I didn’t declare anything; I merely stated my intentions,” Kuznetsov bluntly replies. “And you’d do well to think twice before you pick the losing side. There is more support behind me than there is behind your precious Karpovs.”

“You’re not going to get away with this,” I warn him.

He gives me a hard look. “A woman in your condition should be careful of her words.”

“Keep threatening my wife, Sergei, and I might have to apologize to the good chaplain here for what’s going to happen next,” Anton growls.

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