Page 81 of Forbidden Vows

“What about you and your family?” I ask. “Rumor has it that Sergei is planning to make his takeover of the Bratva official. He’ll want your support.”

Tommy shakes his head slowly, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Let me tell you something, Eileen. What Sergei is doing now is pretty old-school—resorting to physical aggression, vandalism,destroying your buildings—it’s all just enough to get a reaction out of you. If you give him that reaction, the Benedettos will have no choice but to support whoever leads the Bratva, whether it’s Anton today or Sergei tomorrow.

“But if you play it cool, if you keep yourselves away from him and figure out alegalway to burn his ass, you do it. Because then, the other families will have no choice except to support you,” he adds.

“How so?”

“Do you remember the Trattoria Rosa dinner from 1985?” Anton asks me.

I nod once. “Some kind of edict was signed then, right?”

“A peace treaty, to be specific, between the great families of Chicago,” he says. “The three big ones of the Bratva—us, the Fedorovs, and the Abramovics, along with the three big ones of the Camorra—Benedetto, Mancini, and Angeli.”

“It included the three heads of the Irish, as well, which means your father,” Tommy tells me. “Three from the Colombians, three from the Mexicans, three from the Japanese Yakuza, and three from the Triads. A total of twenty-one signatures from the twenty-one most powerful men in Chicago’s mob world.”

“A peace treaty. Okay, yeah, I remember Dad mentioning something about that.”

“A peace treaty that became law. Written, and, funnily enough, notarized, solely for the families’ peace of mind,” Anton adds. “It means nothing to actual law enforcement, but it means everything to us. And according to that peace treaty, if all attempts at peace have failed, and if a member of theaforementioned families has died as a direct result of violence perpetrated by a member of another family, then all the families—”

“Are obligated to stand with the aggrieved,” I finish the statement for him. “Which means that unless Sergei makes a direct attempt at my life, or at the life of any other Karpov, then the other families cannot support our claim against him.”

“Furthermore, the treaty extends to the leadership of each of the organizations,” Tommy adds. “If the Karpovs are chosen to lead the Bratva, we support them against any other family within the Bratva. If the Kuznetsovs take over and are recognized as the new leaders, we’ll have no choice but to support them.”

“Oh, that is so twisted.”

Anton offers me a bitter smile. “It’s the way of our world. And it’s not about what’s wrong or right either, it’s about who holds the power. If Sergei gets a violent reaction out of me now, it will lead to war within the Bratva. I cannot win that war without the other families’ support, and that will give Sergei the power he needs to take over my seat. If that happens, we’re fucked in every possible way except the good way. I cannot allow that to happen, not to me, not to my brother, and certainly not to you.”

“He’s got a hold on one of the three big Irish families, too, but he doesn’t have the full support of the others,” Tommy reminds me. “That’s why he’s flinging turds at Anton, trying to get a reaction out of him.”

I take a deep breath, my mind wandering through every possible scenario. “The Donovans, the O’Reilly’s, and the MacDonalds are still one unit over the Irish organization. You’re right about one thing. Sergei hasn’t swayed any of them yet, not fully,anyway. My voice may not count in a vote since I’m married to a Karpov now, but I could make a few phone calls, nonetheless. Ask Sean O’Reilly to come by the house for a cup of tea or Edwin MacDonald for a slice of steak and kidney pie.”

“As long as you stay here,” Anton says. “It has become imperative.”

“Ah, back in my cage, then,” I chuckle softly.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, I get it,” I tell him. “Given the circumstances, I honestly get it. I will limit my outings as much as possible, and I will always have Ian, at least, accompanying me if I have to go out.”

Tommy nods in agreement. “I’ll liaise with the NSA in the meantime. I’m telling you, if we can gather enough evidence against Sergei and slap the other families over the face with it, you’ll keep your seat at the head of the table. Kuznetsov may be a ruthless fucker, but he’s not suicidal. He’ll have no choice but to flee before the Feds get him.”

“Or before some envoy straight out of Moscow gets him.” Anton’s eyes twinkle with newfound enthusiasm.

I’ve got a feeling he just stumbled into a new and exciting idea. Whatever it is, I fully support him. My moral code will have to take a nap for a while, I suppose.

This has become a game of survival, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let Sergei destroy our lives.

Chapter 29

Eileen

The days that follow are eerily quiet.

Kuznetsov is nowhere to be found, though the Donovan mansion is still very much under his control. Ciara hasn’t reached out, but I know she needs time and a safe way to get into his sensitive documents. She’ll call or text me when she has what we need to bury that bastard—unless Tommy’s people from the NSA call first.

Either way, it has become a matter of when, not if, we take him down.

Until then, I keep my word to Anton and limit my outings. It’s beautiful outside, so I at least allow myself to enjoy afternoons in the garden. Sitting on the edge of the pool, I dip my bare feet in the water while the early summer breeze blows through my hair. I allow my body to soak in as much sun as possible.

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