Page 98 of Forbidden Vows

“As I said, Tommy has been impossible to reach, but I did get a call from one of his NSA buddies. He was right—his contacts are ranked higher than Ian’s,” he chuckles. “They put me in touch with someone from the FBI’s Chicago Field Office. An offer was made.”

“An offer was made,” I repeat after him.

My stomach drops. I know what that means. I also know that I cannot compete with an ambitious DA who was just handed a nice case against us. There’s too much evidence. And the fact that Paul Mattis called the cops does reset the narrative in his favor, no matter how much proof we come up with against Sergei.

And even that doesn’t guarantee that I’ll avoid prison time.

I will do whatever it takes to be a free man.

I’ve got too much to lose now.

A week later, still unable to contact Eileen under my newly revised agreement with the FBI, I take my brother and organize another council meeting at the Upton Conference Center. This time, I made sure to let it slip through the Bratva grapevine that I was about to renounce my seat.

“Would you look at that?” Andrei mutters as we watch Paul Mattis and the other treacherous pieces of shit walk into themeeting room. “You were right.”

“I said I’d quit. Of course, they showed up,” I reply, comfortable and calm in my seat.

I’m still at the head of the table, though. Negotiations with the Feds took forever. For a moment, I wasn’t sure we’d get anywhere. Fortunately, Andrei came through for me, as always. He may not be the wisest nor the most clearheaded, but when the shit hits the fan, my brother always shows up.

“Looks like we’re all here, right?” I ask as my gaze slides across the massive conference table, setting the tone for what is likely to be a very uncomfortable conversation. “We’re not expecting anyone else, correct?”

“You killed Sergei, so no,” Paul bluntly replies.

I give the weaselly bastard a wry grin. “Right. Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s get started.”

“Why are you out?” Ilinka Aslanov asks me before I can say another word. “I was told you were denied bail, that you’d be stuck in jail until your trial.”

“Yet here I am.” I grin, confidently dressed in one of my favorite suits.

“Get on with it,” Paul says. “Resign, so we can move on.”

“Why would I resign?” I innocently ask. “I have done nothing but good and right by our organization. Our finance department can easily confirm that. You each have a copy of our turnover reports in front of you,” I add, nodding at the folders that Andrei has left at every seat at the table.

It took us a while to plan precisely how this meeting would unfold, and I have to admit, it’s already going better than I had expected. With one eye on my watch, I wait for their reactions.

Peter Popov is already drunk and easily riled up. “What are you talking about? You don’t have the majority support. Not anymore. We don’t want you in that seat, Anton.”

“You’ve caused a lot of trouble with the police,” Max Abramovic adds with a sharp, overly confident grin. He’d be quite the heartthrob if he weren’t such a psychopath. I guess it’s why he and Sergei got along so well. “We can’t have that kind of stain on our face, not after the treaty we all worked so hard to enforce.”

“We’re expecting a resignation today,” Dmitri Sokolov replies. “Nothing else.”

I look around the table again. “Ivan and Petra, thank you both for being here today,” I address the Fedorovs first. “Ivanka, you, too. I have always had faith in your judgment. Oleg Sokolov, you’ve got quite the mouth on you, but your honesty is brutal and sorely needed in these trying times. And Andrei, my beloved brother, I’m forever grateful for your support. It’s true, Peter,” I add, giving the Popovs a cool grin. “I don’t have a majority anymore, but that’s about to change.”

Dmitri chuckles. “Really? How so?”

“I’m going to change your minds. By the time we’re done, there’s going to be a shift in the votes submitted at this table,” I declare. The city of Chicago smiles at me from beyond the glass windows. “So, let me start at the beginning. Let me, in fact, start with the treaty.”

“The Trattoria Rosa dinner of 1985,” Andrei chimes in.

“Precisely. The treaty was drawn up and signed that night. I’ve taken the liberty of enclosing a copy in each of your folders. Do me a favor and go through it, paying special attention to what the fourth edict says.”

Ilinka frowns as she takes out her copy. “Any attempt on the life of a family member, by blood or by marriage, is considered a declaration of war.”

“Correct,” I say.

“Nobody tried to kill Eileen,” Paul is quick to interject.

“I’m afraid I have a witness who can contradict that claim,” I reply.

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