Throne of Power (Throne Duet #1) by Rina Kent

Kyle is being weird, but since I have no evidence to back up my suspicions, and would rather stay with Sergei and Ana, I’ve remained silent about it.

It’s been exactly a week since he returned from the unknown, and this whole time, all he’s done is insert himself back in the brotherhood as if he never left, as if he didn’t cut a wound open and never allowed it to heal.

Aside from that first day where he cornered me, we’ve only met twice, both times over Sergei’s breakfast table with the other leaders to talk about strategizing and the Irish threat.

Kyle hardly looked in my direction or acknowledged me, not even when I ganged up on him with Damien.

It’s not that I wanted him to, but we were to be married in such a short time. Couldn’t he, I don’t know, talk about it or something? Because if he were waiting for me to broach the subject, he’d be waiting for too long.

Sure, I could’ve delayed the wedding, but what’s the point of delaying the inevitable? Besides, Sergei wanted this to happen sooner rather than later because of the threat to all our lives.

The preparations were made for critical security measures. I wanted a small and unimportant event, but Sergei said that would be a disgrace to our family name.

He went all out and invited all the big heads from all our mafia, political, and business allies.

The air is suffocated by the endless number of guards who came to protect their bosses. Needless to say, our own men are checking everyone and everything with hawk eyes. Sergei made specific instructions that he wants everything to go perfectly today and that no mistakes are allowed.

Even Ruslan and Katia are standing diagonally to the aisle, half-camouflaged by the decorative flowers. I shake my head internally. As if anything can hide Ruslan’s frame.

Traditional classic Russian music plays as Sergei walks me down the aisle. The large space grows silent. Some women look back to stare at me. I recognize a few faces from the Camorra families, the Triads, the Yakuza, and even the Bratva’s business associates.

They didn’t come for me, though. They came for Sergei and the power he represents. Their presence means nothing to me. If Reina were here, it would be a different story. Maybe I would be less hesitant about what’s to come.

It’s for the best this way. At least she’s safe and I can protect her from afar. There was no way in hell I would bring my identical twin into the midst of all these dangerous people who wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her in order to get to me.

The attendees’ faces soon become blurry as I focus ahead, my expression calm, serene even.

We pass by Kirill, who smirks, probably thinking I’m suffering right now. I ignore him, because even though that might be the case, Dedushka taught me to never show my pain to the outside world.

“If they think you’re strong, no one will dare to attack you.”

His words are my mantra and the reason why I’m able to do this. After all, no one can win if the war hasn’t started.

Damien sits beside Kirill since they’re the only two who are still single in the elite group, aside from Vlad. Damien stares at me without expression, now silent, after he openly expressed that he doesn’t think this marriage is a good idea. His jacket is wrinkled over his untucked shirt, as if he’s just rolled out of bed to be here.

Igor, Mikhail, and Adrian sit with them, too. The first two are accompanied by their wives while their sons sit behind them, but Adrian’s is absent. Vlad is backstage since he’s responsible for the security of the event.

Anastasia settles beside Adrian, on the far right, smiling joyfully at me. I told her I wanted this, and because she believes everything I say, she actually thinks this is a happy event.

That makes one of us.

At least I have Ana here, since Reina was out.

The music comes to a halt as I stand at the altar in front of the priest. He’s dressed in traditional Russian religious clothes with a hat that has a golden cross on top.

Murmurs break out in the crowd when it’s clear that the groom isn’t here yet. We’re supposed to come out at the same time because I said I didn’t like the whole bit of him waiting for me.

My lips tremble and a wave of different emotions hit me all at once: rage, hatred, betrayal, and—most of all—sadness.

He can’t possibly wound my pride for the second time in a row.

This can’t be happening.

And yet, as I stare at the crowd, the reality creeps in on me slowly and without notice.

Ruslan meets my eyes and shakes his head. He was the one who told me he saw Kyle around earlier.

Then where the hell is he now?

As Kirill snickers and Damien smiles, the realization of what’s currently happening slaps me straight in the face.

Kyle abandoned me. Again.

Only this time, he’s done it at the altar and in front of the world.





9





Kyle





I lie on my stomach and stare through the lens of my rifle.

As much as Vladimir was Nazi about the security, he couldn’t tighten it enough to eliminate the invisible soldiers on the roofs—especially the faraway locations.

Besides, the church is so low that all the surrounding buildings could and would be used as a sniper nest.

This is Brooklyn, after all; the tall architecture is a sure way to carry out missions.

I narrow my lens’s focus to the altar, where a beautiful woman stands beside Sergei. I zoom in until she’s in full view.