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

“The only sniper we use in the brotherhood was standing with me at the altar.”

“It could’ve been a different sniper, one for hire.”

“And you think I would hire them at my wedding to terrorize my family?”

“At first, I didn’t believe it, but it’s becoming more plausible by the second.”

A shadow appears behind Kai and points a gun at the back of his head. My breathing hitches at the view of Kyle’s face. He’s grounded, his grip on the gun steady, almost like he’s not holding a deadly weapon. “Tell your guard to drop his gun.”

Kai’s expression remains the same as if his life isn’t on the line. “Not before Miss Sokolov confesses.”

“Then your guard will be collecting your corpse.”

“And you will be collecting your wife’s.”

“I didn’t do it.” I meet Kai’s neutral black eyes. “I would never put my family in jeopardy and you know that.”

“You could sacrifice a member for the greater good.”

“We don’t believe in that in the brotherhood. We’re one for all and all for one.”

“There was a sniper,” Kai insists. “Do you deny that?”

“No.” I saw the window break myself. Even a toddler would know there was a sniper at the scene.

“Who do you think it is?”

“The Irish,” I say confidently. “They’re after the Italians and us. Lazlo and Sergei were their targets. Either you were caught in the crossfire by pure accident or they’re also bringing you in because you’re our ally.”

Kai motions at his guard with two fingers, and he lowers the gun. Kyle doesn’t disappear from behind him, probably because Kai can order his henchman to shoot me at any second.

“What option do you think it is?” Kai asks me. “Was it an accident or intentional?”

“Intentional.” I don’t even hesitate. “You wouldn’t have been that lucky if it were an accident.”

His lips twitch as he approaches me, not attempting to stop the blood oozing from his side. Sure, it’s not a lot, but it’s still a wound.

“I will pay a visit to V Corp.”

“Not Sergei?” I ask, bemused.

“Not Sergei.” He motions at my waist, and I follow his gaze to find blood on my front and on my wrists. I must’ve caught it during my sneaking journey. “Congratulations on the wedding.”

He reaches a hand out, probably to shake mine, but Kyle steps between us, blocking my vision of Kai. “You don’t get to touch her after you threatened to kill her. Piss off.”

“Fair enough.” I don’t see Kai’s face, but I can hear the smile in his tone. “Until we meet again.”

The guard bows his head in a show of respect and follows Kai. The moment they disappear, Kyle turns around so abruptly I flinch backward.

I’ve never seen this expression on his face. His eyes are fierce and the mask he usually wears is completely gone, allowing me a peek at the real man inside. And what I see in there? Well, it’s more complicated than anyone can decipher.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

It takes me a second to try to wrench myself out of his magnetic hold. “I told you I was coming with you.”

“And I told you to stay put.”

“Just because we’re married, barely, doesn’t give you the right to dictate my actions.”

“Bloody hell, Rai.” He kicks the car, causing its alarm to go off. “What if he shot you, huh? Would your stubbornness have saved you?”

“He wouldn’t have. Kai is our ally.”

“What if he decided he’s no longer an ally? What if he killed you to send a message to Sergei?”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“What if he did?”

“I would’ve gotten myself out of it.”

“You can’t get yourself out of death. The moment the bullet is in, it’s in—do you understand?”

I don’t know if he’s still talking about this situation or something entirely different, but I nod anyway. Even I realize we’re at different skill levels and this could’ve really ended badly for me.

He wraps a hand behind my back, and I yelp as he holds me in his arms bridal style.

I grab his shirt with my fingers for balance. “What are you doing?”

“Consummating our marriage, Princess. It’s long overdue.”





11





Rai





Did he just say he’s going to consummate our marriage?

Yup, I think he did.

I’m stunned into a long silence at his words, my limbs staying still and my hold on his shirt loosening.

For some reason, my chest rises and falls heavily, and it has nothing to do with the adrenaline rush from earlier.

I stare at his face as he carries me, like, really stare at him—at the sharp lines of his jaw, his straight nose with the slight crookedness that makes him imperfect in so many ways, the man who became my husband because I agreed to it.

At that moment when the priest asked me to be his wife till death do us part, the past crashed into me and all I wanted to do was to run and never return.

My heart still bleeds from back then, and I didn’t trust that I could let it exsanguinate this time. Because now? Now, I have a feeling he will hurt me irrevocably if I let him.