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

White looks good on her, majestic, almost like she’s some screwed-up type of angel who came down to torture humans.

Rai’s expression is far from angelic, though. Even though she’s still hiding behind countless layers of makeup, she can’t camouflage the twisting of her lips or the reddening of her delicate neck that’s begging for my fingers around it.

She’s become an expert at bottling her rage, but not enough to fool me. After all, I was with her every step of the way when she was trying to get rid of her hotheaded personality—or to at least keep it under wraps. The truth of the matter is, there’s no way in hell she could’ve become docile and obedient, at least not in this lifetime.

Rai was born to conquer and crush anyone who defies her or poses a threat to her family. She never once stopped or hesitated, her gender be damned.

That woman is more tenacious than most of the men I’ve met.

And because of that, she’s dangerous to my mission.

It would be so easy to pull the trigger and erase her from my path. What is she anyway, aside from an insignificant pawn who will cause more trouble than it’s worth?

My finger won’t move. It can’t.

I don’t know when this state began, whether it was after I saw her again or if it were there seven years ago. All I know is that I can’t pull the fucking trigger on Rai Sokolov, even though she’s my worst enemy.

I direct the rifle at the building opposite of the church where the other crime organizations’ guards are stationed. Who knew my wedding would be a vipers’ den for New York’s most notorious criminal faces? It’s not only the Italians, Chinese, and Japanese; there are also the Armenians and the Ukrainians. While most are classical allies of the Bratva, they’re not closely tied to Sergei’s reigning period. They could marry among each other to strengthen their relationships, but most clans are too traditionalist to give their daughters to outsiders.

Lucky for me, Sergei absolutely wouldn’t.

Bloodlust runs in my veins as I aim my rifle at three guards standing at the back of the building. My muscles tighten, but my body remains inert, calm, almost like I’m sleeping with my eyes open.

The cloudy sky is my only limit.

There’s no wind, no disturbances. There’s only the need for chaos.

I pull the trigger, hitting the first guard in the forehead. The moment the other two turn to him, raising their guns, it’s already too late. I hit one in the heart and the other in the hollow of his neck.

The three of them fall over each other without a sound or a fuss. Clean. Fast. Efficient.

First part of the mission is complete.

Still on my stomach, I glide backward, hide the rifle in its case, and then I remove the bricks I dug out a week ago when I decided on this location. Next, I hide the weapon between the rocks.

Once finished, I crawl to the entrance and only stand when I know no one on top of the other buildings will see me.

I zip up my hoodie, wearing my mask and my sunglasses, as I take the stairs three at a time.

“Target one eliminated.” I speak to my second sniper through the intercom attached to my ear. “Take care of both Kai and Lazlo.”

“Got it,” he replies in his bored tone. I brought him with me from England, and I’m not sure if that’s the brightest decision I have ever made.

But, the fact remains, Flame is the one who taught me how to snipe in the first place. It goes without saying that if anyone can take care of this, it’s him. I still don’t like that he’s deep into my business, though. While we belonged to the same organization, he serves himself and himself alone.

“And don’t touch a hair on the head of Rai,” I add.

“Pussy-whipped already?”

“Fuck you.”

“Not really my thing. But now that we’re chatting, are you going to tell me why you want to hit Kai and Lazlo, of all people?”

“Because Kai is the equivalent of Adrian for the Japanese, and Lazlo is the equivalent of Sergei for the Luciano family.”

“You’re killing their brains—smart.”

“I know that.”

“Always the arrogant one, Kyle. Guess your dishonorable discharge from the group didn’t change anything about you.”

I ignore the jab at the past and say, “Get to your position.”

Flame may have a more senior rank than me, but as he said, I don’t belong to that group anymore—thus, I have no obligation to respect the hierarchy.

I click the button and exit the building as silently as I came in. Since it’s still new, the cameras aren’t fully working yet, so I can slip into their blind spots more easily than if I would’ve chosen another building.

After I sneak to the back entrance, I get rid of the mask, the glasses, the fake mustache, and the hoodie, remaining in my black tux. Then I throw them in the rubbish can.

I run two streets up to find my Porsche. As soon as I’m inside, I kick my sports shoes away and put on my leather ones. I stare at my face in the rearview mirror.

I look ready for a wedding.

It takes me a minute to reach the church. I spot Vladimir at the front, expression grim, knuckles white. His tension doesn’t lessen when he sees me. If anything, his rage rushes to the surface like an active volcano.

Holding out a small box, I step out of my car and throw the spare keys to one of the guards. I always have another one on me in the case of an emergency.