Chapter 8: Forbidden Vows: Chapter 8

Perhaps I should be upset that the wedding was postponed. Ciara’s endless tears should make me want to do something about it. Hell, maybe elope if I really wanted to marry her. But I don’t. Not anymore. Not at all. And it’s an unpleasant feeling to sit with and process while Ciara keeps complaining to her father about it.

“Figures,” she says. “Eileen wasn’t the center of attention, so she decided to ruin my wedding day.”

“Ciara don’t talk about your stepsister like that. Eileen has been in your corner the whole time,” Ronan replies.

“Agreed,” I say. “Whatever happened, clearly, she couldn’t control it. Maybe low blood pressure or blood sugar.”

“She didn’t eat anything at breakfast,” Ronan remembers with a deep frown.

Ciara exhales sharply. “She eats too much anyway.”

Did she really just say that out loud? My heart’s beating faster. They don’t know. Ronan was too busy coddling this snarky creature to hear what Eileen told the paramedics. But I heard. I saw her luscious lips move. I’ve been doing the math in my head, reaching the same conclusion over and over.

“I’ll tell the guests the wedding is postponed,” I say, ready to end the whole thing.

“We could still have the wedding,” Ciara insists.

Ronan shakes his head. “Honey, we talked about this.”

“It’s my life! My wedding! She can do her thing at the hospital and meet us later at the reception,” she says. “I worked so hard on those menus,” she whines.

“We’ll set another date,” I say, though there is zero intention behind my words. She’s small and perky, and she looks up at me with doe eyes. Any man would fall prey to that gaze of Ciara’s. Not me. I tried. But then Eileen unwittingly reminded me that I don’t belong with her stepsister. “I’ll let the guests know. In the meantime, I’ll pay for the restaurant and tell them to head over there and enjoy the menu and the drinks, on me, for their trouble.”

“Oh, Anton.”

“I insist. Today is not a good day. Eileen’s episode must’ve been a sign from above,” I reply, tapping into Ronan’s spiritual side. The man still goes to Sunday services. I know what buttons to push.

“He’s right,” the old man says, looking pale. “We should just pull the plug on everything and regroup. I need to head to the hospital to check on Eileen. You should come with me, Ciara.”

“No, I’m fine.” She crosses her arms, sulking.

“He’s right, Ciara. You should go with him and see your stepsister,” I gently suggest.

She raises an eyebrow at me. “I’ll see her when she gets home.”

“Ciara…” Ronan tries to plead with her, but the princess has made up her mind.

Yet another reason why this won’t work. I can’t end it here, though. I need to talk to Andrei. I need confirmation from the hospital, as well, one way or another. Eileen would never tell me, and the situation is far too delicate for me to take a Karpov hammer to it.

“It’s alright,” I tell them both. “You go to the hospital, Ronan. Let me know how Eileen is faring. And you should have a doctor look at you as well. You look rather out of sorts, my friend.”

“I’m fine. It’s just this whole wedding nonsense. I’ve got one daughter disappointed and the other in the hospital. I’m trying to figure out a way to fix everything.”

“You can’t; not today, anyway,” I reply. “Let’s take it one day at a time.” I turn to Ciara. “You should go to the restaurant, at least. Have some of the pink champagne you like, and we’ll talk tomorrow. How about that?”

Here come the puppy eyes again. “Aren’t you coming with me?”

“I have some business issues to deal with. Might as well get it out of the way so I can fully focus on us in the weeks to come.”

Ciara doesn’t like being told no. But there’s no wedding band on my finger yet, so she knows to contain her displeasure to mere passive-aggressiveness.

I leave Ciara with her father, then make my way back to the Karpov offices, where Andrei is already waiting. He and Laura left as soon as Eileen was taken by the ambulance—both knowing full well that there would be no wedding to attend today.

“Well, this day didn’t turn out the way I’d expected,” Andrei says, comfortably seated in the guest chair by the window of my office. “How’s the bride-to-be faring?”

“Petulant and fussy, as usual.”

I pour myself a double whiskey, then offer my brother one as well. He takes the glass with an appreciative nod. “I’ll have Demi drive you and your car back to your place if you need him,” Andrei says. “Might as well finish this bottle while we’re here.”

“It’s not really professional, but for once, I agree with you,” I say as I sit down at my desk.

I run my fingers along the glass top, fully aware that my brother is watching and analyzing my every move. “Why is that?” he asks.

“Why’s what?”

“Why do you agree with me? You rarely drink at the office, Anton. Are you really that miffed about your wedding day?”

I shake my head slowly. “No, I’m relieved.”

“Okay, you’ve got my attention,” he chuckles. “What’s going on?”

“I’m going to blow it all up.”

Andrei stares at me for a long confused second. “Blow what up?”

“The marriage agreement.”

“Are you fucking insane? We need the Donovans now more than ever!”

“Hear me out.”

“No, Anton! You agreed to this! You can’t back out of it, not with Sergei fucking Kuznetsov looking for every opportunity to screw us out of our position. The Bratva needs stability, and the South Americans are starting to tighten their ranks. It’s not looking good, and the last thing we need is the Irish siding with them or staying neutral!”

I take a long sip of my whiskey, welcoming the burn as it rolls down my throat.

“Eileen’s pregnant.”

Andrei stills, his expression blank. I can almost hear the wheels turning in his head. “I fucking knew it,” he hisses. “You slept with her that night.”

“It was so much more than that.”

“Holy shit, you’re in love,” my brother laughs nervously. “Oh, this is fucking rich.”

“I overheard Eileen in the ambulance. No one else did, though. Her father doesn’t know. Her sister would’ve had an aneurysm had she heard. Listen, this is a golden opportunity. Not just for me, but for our family.”

“Hold on; give me a moment here, Anton. Let’s take it one step at a time.”

“Okay, let’s,” I reply and lean back in my chair.

“Are you sure that Eileen is pregnant?”

“Yes. I double-checked with the hospital on my way over.”

Andrei’s frown deepens. “What about patient confidentiality?”

“Since when did we let that get in our way?”

“Fucking hell, Anton.”

“Right. Next question.”

“Are you sure it’s yours?” he asks, then finishes his whiskey and pours himself a triple. He’s going to need it, because I haven’t even gotten to my proposal yet.

I nod slowly. “Almost a hundred percent. Eileen hasn’t had many trysts with other men from what her stepsister told me, which means that, aside from the night we spent together, there wasn’t anybody else.”

“And from the moment the engagement was announced publicly—”

“Eileen became off-limits for any man, Sergei included.”

“Shit,” Andrei says. “You knocked up one Donovan and you’re going to marry the other one. Anton, this is one hell of a mess.”

“It’s not like I planned it. And besides, I don’t intend to marry Ciara anymore.”

He chuckles dryly. “Does Ciara know?”

“No, I didn’t have the heart to tell her. Ronan wasn’t looking too good either. I figured I’d give them a few days to pull themselves together.”

Andrei gives me a long curious look. “How do you feel about all this?”

“I’ll feel a lot better once I get you on board.”

“On board with what?”

“Blowing it all up.”

“There you go with that term again. What does that mean?” he asks, then takes another gulp of his whiskey, savoring the relaxing burn.

“I still need to marry a Donovan, just not the one I’m currently engaged to.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind.”

“That’s my child growing in Eileen’s womb, and it’s her father’s support that we need.”

“What about Sergei? He’s already set to marry her.”

“Hence why I need your support.”

Andrei goes quiet for the better part of a minute. His gaze wanders across my office as he thoroughly analyzes the facts of our situation. It’s quite simple, actually. Sooner or later, Ronan Donovan will find out about Eileen’s condition. And so will Sergei. They’ll both know it’s not a Kuznetsov baby, and it will put Eileen in an extremely tight spot. I could keep my mouth shut about it, but my honor and my heart demand that I do something.

Besides, the pregnancy is the perfect excuse for me to back out of the deal with Ciara. I want Eileen. As much as I’ve tried to deny it, I need to be honest with myself and admit it. I’ve wanted her since the night I rescued her. She’s taken up permanent residence in my mind.

“It’s going to get messy,” Andrei warns me.

“I need your help, so it doesn’t get bloody, too,” I say. “We can handle messy. We can also handle bloody, but we’ll lose our seat at the table if it gets to that.”

“We stand a better chance holding on to it with just messy,” he agrees with a slow, tentative nod. “Yeah, I hear you. We’ll need a multiple-angle approach, and a much better offer for Ronan.”

“Something enticing enough to help him get over his injured pride,” I add. “I’m well aware.”

“You really want her, huh?” Andrei shoots me a half-smile, amusement twinkling in his eyes as he unbuttons his jacket.

“I do. And I’m going to get what I want.”

“I believe you,” he says. “Let’s just make sure you don’t burn bridges and take the Karpovs down with you in the process.”

I’m concerned about that, too, but I don’t express that to my brother.

I see her every time I close my eyes. I can still smell her perfume on my pillow back at the penthouse, even though the maid service had changed all the linens. It’s the ghost of Eileen that lingers in my life, embedded in my senses. As I watched her collapse while walking down the aisle, unable to take her in my arms and protect her, unable to care for her, something snapped inside of me.

I’m not letting Eileen out of my grasp ever again.

“Sergei will be out for blood,” Andrei warns me.

“I know.”

I’ll be ready for him when the time comes.