Eileen
Two months later…
I’m still in shock.
“Do you, Ciara Donovan, take Ian Masters to be your husband, before God…” The pastor continues with the vows while I try to wrap my head around the whole thing. Only half an hour ago, Ciara was dragging Anton and me into this tiny chapel, begging us to do a favor for her. Little did I know.
“…until death do you part?”
“I do,” Ciara declares, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks.
Ian lovingly looks down at her, wearing the kind of smile that assures me it’s the real deal with these two.
It really is.
It’s been two months since the Sergei incident, and here we are, witnesses at Ciara and Ian’s impromptu wedding.
“Did you see this coming?” Anton whispers in my ear.
I shake my head. “Nope. You?”
“I knew Ian was smitten, but I had no idea it was this serious.”
Out of such tragedy, good things came. We survived. I’m close to being ready to deliver my twins—Lord knows, my ankles and my back won’t last much longer. The C-section is scheduled for tomorrow, which is why Ciara was in such a rush to get us here today.
Talk about timing.
The café is doing great. The official opening party was even better than the soft launch that Anton put together.
My husband has consolidated his rule over the Bratva. And Ciara… well, she’s definitely going places.
“Do you, Ian Masters, take Ciara Donovan…”
I can see Ian shaking with genuine emotion.
I’m so happy for them.
Shocked aplenty, but happy. He may not be mafia royalty, but I’ve seen how far Ian will go to protect the people he cares about. I know he’ll do even more for Ciara. My stepsister needs loyal, strong men around her. With Paddy and Ian flanking her, she’ll do just fine as the Donovan in charge. I’ve no doubt the others will fall in line effortlessly.
“I do,” Ian says.
“By the power invested in me, by the state of Illinois, you may kiss the bride,” the pastor says with a bright smile.
And kiss the bride, he does.
“Congratulations!” I tell the bride and groom as they turn to face us. “Wish you’d given us a heads up, though. I would’ve loved to organize an actual wedding, an actual wedding party—”
“Oh, no, we didn’t want any of that,” Ciara says, shining like the sun in a simple but beautiful white gown, pearls resting at the base of her slender neck. “This right here… this is perfect.”
“Seriously? I’m basically in the only dress left that still fits me,” I nervously laugh.
Ciara hugs me and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Okay, first of all, you look gorgeous. You’ve always been gorgeous. You could wear a potato sack, and you would still be gorgeous, and I’m sorry I never told you that.”
“Thank you.”
“Second, after our wedding debacles, do you really think another attempt at a fancy wedding would’ve been a good idea?” She raises an eyebrow. “No, I insisted on something small and private. We’ve got enough going on as it is. Ian agreed.”
“I wish you both a wonderful life together,” Anton tells them and cordially shakes Ian’s hand. “I swear to God I didn’t see this coming, but I am glad you’re both part of this family now.”
“And you’re a part of ours,” Ciara says. “The Karpovs and the Donovans, tighter than ever.”
“Technically, I’m not a Karpov,” Ian chuckles.
“Not by name, but you’ve been one of us for a long time,” Anton replies.
I point a finger at the happy couple. “I’m still reeling from the shock. How were you so good at keeping it a secret?”
“Former British intelligence, remember?” Ian says with a cool smile and a wink.
Ciara gasps, remembering something. “Oh, shit, Laura’s gonna kill me.”
“For not inviting them?” I ask.
She nods. “Oh, yeah. She’s going to throw a hissy fit and then some. We need to make it up to her, baby,” she tells Ian.
I gasp too, albeit for a different reason.
“Oh, I think I’ve got something to keep Laura distracted with,” I manage, grabbing Anton’s arm. “Baby…”
“Your water broke,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Holy crap!” Ciara exclaims. “We need to get you to the hospital, like now!”
Ian is already in action mode, snatching the car keys from Anton’s pocket. “I’ll drive. Anton, help Eileen to the car. Ciara, call the doctor and let them know we’re coming.”
The contractions start.
“Fuck!” I cry out.
“I’ve got you, baby,” Anton says as he holds me up.
