Forbidden Vows: Chapter 10

“Have you lost your mind?”

I’m sitting on the edge of my hospital bed, heat coursing through me as I try to adjust to Anton’s proposal. The words coming out of his mouth might make sense to him, but all I’m hearing is that I’m screwed in a wholly different way.

Hell, I can’t even be ashamed of what happened, because the repercussions have hit me so hard across the face that I can barely breathe.

“It’s the only way that I can protect you,” he says.

Anton stands by the door, hands casually in his pockets. Judging by the subtle smile dancing on his lips, he’s enjoying this while I’m torn between swooning over him and punching him in the face. “I know it’s a delicate situation, but I think this will defuse it.”

“Defuse it?” I gasp, then look at my father. “What did Ciara say?”

“She won’t speak to me,” he replies, lowering his gaze. “Not yet anyway. She needs time to mourn, I suppose.”

“So, not only did I wreck her wedding day, but—”

“Through no fault of your own, Eileen. You got sick,” my father tries to soften the blow.

“We both know it was my fault,” I shoot back. “This pregnancy is my fault.”

Anton slowly raises a hand. “Mine, too. You aren’t the only one responsible.”

“Let me reiterate,” I say, choosing to focus on my rather befuddled father. “Not only did I wreck my stepsister’s wedding day, but I’m now supposed to marry her fiancé, because there wasn’t enough strife between us to begin with.”

“Ciara is no fool. She’ll understand that it’s for the best. For everyone involved,” Dad says. “You’ll be married to the father of your child, and I’ll still have a Karpov for a son-in-law.”

“That sounds more like a benefit to you and you alone. I didn’t ask for this.”

“But you’re getting it anyway,” Anton chimes in.

“You seem to be enjoying this a little too much. It’s infuriating,” I reply dryly.

He responds with a shrug. “It is a greater win for me.”

“Oh right, because you’re marrying the true-born Donovan now.”

“Because I’m marrying a beautiful woman with a sizzling personality who happens to be carrying my child,” Anton says.

“What about Sergei? How did he take the news?” I ask my father.

He shakes his head slowly. “Not well, but he had no choice in the matter. I left an offer on the table for Ciara. Once they both think about it, they’ll probably come around and agree it’s the best way forward.”

“You would’ve made a fine kingmaker in a medieval court,” I mutter and cross my arms. My heart is on a rampage, but I refuse to let Anton see how easy it is for him to rile me up. It’s bad enough he overheard about the pregnancy. I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but as much as I hate to admit it, I can’t bring myself to be too mad about it. Besides, I couldn’t keep it a secret forever—the hospital ran blood work and I’m starting to show.

“Dad, this will blow up in your face. Mark my words. This is the second time I’m being shoved into a marriage I didn’t consent to.”

“Would you like me to back off and just leave you to your own devices?” he blurts out. “Would you prefer being the laughing stock of Chicago on top of being a single mother?”

“I’d never allow that,” Anton intervenes.

“I really don’t want or need anything from you,” I say. “I can do this alone.”

Dad scoffs and gives me a sour smirk. “This is a consequence of your actions, Eileen. I know what happened that night. From the moment you consented to this man, everything that’s happened since is now on your shoulders. Now, you can either continue to act like a petulant child, or you can be smart like the Donovan that you are.”

I lower my gaze.

I’m screwed and I know it.

“In the absence of a better choice, I guess my answer is yes,” I say, caving in with a heavy sigh. “Dammit, I knew I should’ve eaten something that morning. Maybe if I had, none of this would’ve happened.”

“It’s too late to fuss about what could’ve been,” Dad says. “I don’t like this any more than you, Eileen, but it’s the best way to mend the situation in a manner that doesn’t cause too big a rift between us and the Bratva.”

Anton struggles to contain his satisfaction, and I’m starting to think it has a lot to do with the strife between him and Sergei. He’s passing up a cover girl bride for me. There has to be something to make it worthwhile, and pissing off Sergei Kuznetsov certainly sounds like a good deal as far as Anton is concerned.

“Smirk and gloat all you want,” I tell Anton. “But don’t expect a model wife.”

“I expect Eileen Donovan,” he replies with a casual smile.

“I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean.”

“Eileen, this is the best decision we can make out of a bad situation,” my father says. He gently touches my shoulder, but I yank away, unwilling to relent any more than I already have. “I’ll go sign your release papers, and we’ll get you home.”

“Maybe put a padlock on my bedroom door once we get there,” I mutter, sulking like an ill-tempered child. “Ciara might sneak in and smother me with a pillow in my sleep.”

Anton joins my father outside my private hospital room while I’m left chewing things over.

I’ve kept my chin up throughout all of this, and I’ll keep it up going forward.

If my father wants me to act like a true Donovan, that’s exactly what I’ll do.