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

“Being married doesn’t mean anything.” I try to speak casually in a hopeless attempt to kill the chain of thoughts forming in my head.

“Just because you refuse to admit it, doesn’t mean it has no meaning. You’ll get used to it, though.”

He speaks with so much arrogance, as if he knows the future and is taunting me with it.

I swing around, causing us both to halt. “Don’t think you’re something because Igor somehow decided to make you his son. You’ll always be the stray dog Dedushka took in and turned into somebody.”

His expression doesn’t change, but he shoves a hand in his pocket as if stopping it from acting on something. “Careful, Mrs. Hunter. The more you insult me, the more I will drag you down by the throat.”

I point a finger at his chest. “I’m not scared of you.”

He grabs my hand in place, and when I try to escape, he keeps it imprisoned in a hold so tight it’s impossible to break. His face lowers so it’s a few inches from mine. The meticulous mask he wears so well falters a little, and I get a glimpse of his true self.

His eyes are…empty. Desolate.

Dedushka used to tell me there’s nothing more frightening than a man who has nothing to lose.

And now, I’m staring right at the soul of one.

“You should be,” he says with a chilling calm that stabs straight to my bones. “You really, really should be.”

We remain like that for what seems like hours, just gazing at each other as his words sink in.

Even a long time ago, Kyle always managed to confiscate my attention and cage it behind metal bars. Seven years later, he still has that effect on me, and what’s worse is that he’s coming off stronger, harsher, as if it’s his final strike.

A clearing of a throat cuts off the connection. I blink once as Kyle’s immaculate mask snaps into place and he loosens his hold on my hand.

I step back as if I’ve been shocked, heart hammering at a strange pace.

It takes me a few seconds to refocus on Sergei coming down the stairs, accompanied by Anastasia. She’s grinning from ear to ear as her gaze goes from me to Kyle and back again. That girl has always been a hopeless romantic.

Schooling my features, I join them and take Ana’s hands in mine. “Are you guys all right?”

“We’re fine.” She smiles like an idiot. “Tell me about you.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” I direct my focus to Sergei. “What were our casualties? Did we lose any men? What happened after the attack ended?”

“One question at a time, Rayenka.” Sergei calls me by the nickname he would never use in front of the other men because that would mean he was showing favoritism toward me.

“Tell me.”

“Join me.” He motions his head at Kyle. “You too.”

Anastasia kisses his cheek then tiptoes over and whispers in my ear, “You’ll tell me all about the fun you had last night, okay?”

I push her away teasingly, and she giggles as she heads back up the stairs.

One of the guards opens the dining room door for Sergei, and the three of us go inside.

We’re greeted by a heated argument between the four kings in Russian. Adrian and Vlad are nowhere to be found. It’s not a surprise in the case of Adrian since attending meetings isn’t a habit he maintains, but Vlad’s absence is concerning.

“Where’s Vlad?” I ask Sergei.

“He’s taking care of the police procedures so that nothing falls back on us,” he tells me, speaking low enough so the others don’t hear. “The attack caused quite the commotion.”

“It’s all because of your reckless behavior,” Igor accuses Damien.

“Me?” Damien laughs. “Sure thing, Igor, let’s blame your lack of competence on me, shall we?”

“You fucked up, Orlov.” Kirill throws his own accusation. “You threw us into a war we do not need.”

“Stop being a pussy, Kirill. This is not rainbows and fucking unicorns. This is the Bratva.”

“One of my men died,” Kirill snarls. “Are you going to go to his mother and deliver the news?”

“No, but I will give her his fucking medallion of honor, because he died for his brothers.”

“Two of my men were injured, too,” Mikhail says, sipping from his glass of vodka. In fact, all the men aside from Igor have glasses of liquor in front of them. If they’re drinking alcohol first thing in the morning, then shit is hitting the fan.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, old man.” Damien rolls his eyes. “Your men need retraining.”

“Are you saying my men are incompetent, Orlov?” Mikhail’s face reddens with exertion.

“Exactly. Did dealing with pussy turn you into one?”

“You fucking—” Mikhail stands up, probably to punch Damien, but Sergei’s presence makes them fall silent.

He slowly lowers himself into his seat, his expression neutral.

I attempt to sit beside Damien, but Kyle cuts in before me and snatches the seat so I’m forced to take Igor’s side.

“Blaming each other won’t bring any results,” Sergei says as an indirect reply to the quarrel we witnessed. “We’re brothers and we help our own when they’re in need.”

Grumbles and clearings of throats fill the room as Damien gives the other three a smug look.