Page 72 of Forbidden Vows

“Gentlemen, please,” Chaplain Carter insists. “This is holy ground.”

Sergei nods curtly, motioning for Paul and Ciara to follow him. “Come on, we’ve got a funeral dinner to attend.” He pauses to point at me. “You’re uninvited. All of the Karpovs, too.”

Ciara tries to change his mind. “Sergei, darling, she’s still his daughter.”

“Did I stutter?”

She stills, her face pale, then nods once and follows him down the stone path leading back to the eastern gate. I watch as my stepsister walks away, helpless and quiet. The life I knew was falling apart, crumbling around me in the clutches of Sergei’s evil hand.

Murmurs erupt behind us. Concerns about Kuznetsov and the threats that were made. I can’t really focus on any of it, though. I just buried my father and lost my stepsister in the span of an hour, and I don’t know how to deal with any of it.

“Ciara fucked up,” Anton tells me, keeping his voice low while Andrei speaks to the others. They’re understandably startled and worried. I am, too. “But I don’t think your father signed that document. Or at least, he wasn’t of sound mind when he signed it. He may have been ill, but he wasn’t stupid.”

“I know.”

“He never would’ve handed the Donovan businesses over to Sergei.”

“He still wanted me to be involved. That was part of the reason why he insisted that we get married, aside from the obvious,” I rub at my baby bump. “He trusted you to help steer the businesses in a better direction. Dad didn’t trust Sergei. Not very much, anyway. Then again, that could’ve changed in the months that we didn’t see each other. I’m just not sure anymore, Anton. I can’t believe any of this is happening.”

He takes me in his arms. I find comfort in his embrace, as always, but this time, I don’t think it’s enough to keep my head above water.

“We’ll figure it out, Eileen. Whatever Ciara did, we can fight it in court.”

“Paul Mattis all but begged you to do exactly that. They must have some ace up their sleeve. I’m guessing it’s that addendum to my father’s will.”

He thinks about it for a moment. “Let’s go home, baby. Whatever it is, we’ll handle it, but you need to get some rest first.”

It sounds encouraging enough, but judging by the look of concern on Andrei’s face, I worry that trouble is just getting started. My dad always used to say that it gets worse before it gets better.

Oh, Ciara, you proud and foolish girl, how could you do this?

Chapter 26

Anton

Eileen’s father was right about one thing—it does get worse before it gets better, and we can’t afford any more losses.

In the week since Ronan’s funeral, three different Karpov businesses were targeted—two cyberattacks and a small factory fire—the source of which we’ve yet to uncover.

“You can’t sit there and tell me you haven’t made any headway,” I tell Jonas Aslanov, Ilinka’s eldest son and second in command. “Is she really siding with the Kuznetsovs, now?”

“She said it felt like the safer bet once the Sokolovs and the Aronovs switched their support to Sergei and Paul.” Jonas offers a tense shrug. “I tried to talk her out of it, Anton, I swear.”

“Does she understand the repercussions?” Andrei asks, seated in the chair next to Jonas, on the other side of my desk. “If we withdraw our funding, all of her charity galas will fall. Nobody’s going to touch her.”

“Sergei has a few senators in his pocket. He promised her uninterrupted charity events for the next four years, at least,” Jonas says. “His Senate buddies need juice for their reelectioncampaigns, and their districts fall under the Kuznetsov turf. He can put his money where his mouth is.”

“And if Ilinka decided to stick with us, he would’ve made it harder for her to go ahead with those events, because of the same senators, who have ties in the local council and connections to the federal government. Which would’ve led to funding cuts. He would cripple her,” I conclude, shaking my head in dismay.

Jonas gives me a wondering look. “Would you be able to prevent that?”

“Not right now.”

“We should’ve twisted a few more arms for D’Arcy and Bennet,” Andrei mutters. “Had they won those Senate seats, we wouldn’t even be worrying about who can do what to Ilinka Aslanov’s charity funding.”

“My mother lives for those functions and for the billions she raises to help so many good causes,” Jonas says. “She would rather sleep with the devil than lose any of it. She always says that it’s all worth it.”

“In this world? I can’t really blame her.” I sigh deeply.

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