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

The coffee shop’s entryway, the concrete beneath us, the shot on the door…

“Rai, do you hear me? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I say over the constant ringing in my ears.

I attempt to roll from underneath him, but Kyle keeps me pinned in place with a hand around my nape. “Don’t move.”

His grip is firm, disallowing me any shift, which wouldn’t be possible considering he’s crushing me with his weight. Every inch of me is covered by him.

The realization of what he did slowly creeps up on me.

Kyle jumped on me. As in, he used his body as a shield for mine. As in, he was ready to take the shot for me.

My breathing hitches, cracking and turning shallower by the second. It doesn’t make sense for him to do such a heroic act I would expect from only Katia and Ruslan.

He doesn’t care. He left seven years ago.

I try engraving those words to memory, because if I don’t? Then, I’m fucking screwed.

“Is the sniper gone?” I ask, voice low.

“Could be. I’ll go check.”

“Why would you go check? I’ll send the guards.”

“And cause a ruckus at your carefully planned brunch? None of the guards saw the bullet or the red dot. If you make sure Lia doesn’t talk, we won’t have a diplomatic issue with the Italians. If they know a sniper is on the loose, they will accuse you of bringing their women to be killed.”

His words get past the confines of my ears and the reality slams into me.

My best option is to play it cool.

My gaze slides to Lia, who’s crouching by the restaurant door, both her palms covering her ears and her eyes shut tightly as her lips move in inaudible murmurs.

Does she…have PTSD? It doesn’t make sense for Adrian’s wife to have PTSD. She’s been married to him for more than five years, and she knows the way of the brotherhood. We’re not a nice bunch, by any means, and our lifestyle is high on the danger parameter.

Even the most sophisticated Vory women, like Mikhail’s wife and Anastasia, might tremble in fear, but they don’t start bawling or suffer from PTSD episodes. We were brought up on the sound of bullets.

Lia should be the same. She was there during Adrian’s assassination attempt at Mikhail’s birthday. She even helped Stella, Igor’s wife, gather the women in the basement, while I followed Adrian and Damien to catch the attempted assassin.

We found him shot in the back of his neck. Vlad and Adrian ran a thousand background checks using the guy’s picture but came up empty. To this day, we don’t know who tried to kill Adrian or who murdered the assassin.

Point is, Lia was completely calm during that time. It doesn’t make sense for her to have PTSD now.

“I’ll count to three and you join her, okay?” Kyle says so close to my ear, drawing shivers down my spine.

“Take backup,” I say.

“Worried about me, Princess?”

“You wish.” My murmur isn’t believable even to my own ears.

“No backup. You know I work better solo. Now, one, two…” He lifts his body over mine push-up style. “Three.”

He completely stands up and I do, too, bolting to where Lia is crouching. I turn around to insist that he takes guards, but there’s no sign of him.

That hotheaded man will be the death of me.

I mimic Lia’s position and gently touch her hand. It’s sweaty and cold. “Hey…Lia…do you hear me?”

At first, she doesn’t give any sign that she does, but then, slowly, her eyes flutter open and she stares up at me with tears in them.

“Hey, it’s okay.” I take her by the arm and slowly stand her up with me. “You’re okay.”

“I-I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to…”

“You don’t have to be sorry for something you can’t control, Lia.”

“P-please don’t tell Adrian about this.” She grabs my hand in both of hers. “Please.”

“I won’t for now, but he’ll eventually know. We were under attack, Lia.” Or maybe she was the target. After all, the red dot was on her forehead, not mine or anyone else’s.

I reach into my bag and give her a tissue. “Come on, wipe your face and let’s get inside, okay?”

She complies, but her expression remains half-horrified, half-shocked.

I dust my dress off, use a tissue myself, and then hold my head high and walk into the coffee shop. It doesn’t matter that my legs are still slightly shaking or that my mind is still outside where Kyle ran off to God knows where.

This brunch is my way to play a role in the brotherhood, and nothing will ruin this. I shoot a message to Katia and Ruslan to go after Kyle and hope that will be enough.

Inside, the women are completely oblivious to the spy-level show that just took place outside. Thank God.

The décor is cozy with multiple soft lights hanging down from the ceiling. I had my guards rearrange the seats so it’s a large sitting area instead of having separated, impersonal tables.

Everyone sits on the sofas, each cradling a drink. From our side, the women present are Anastasia, Lia, and Igor’s wife, Stella. Of course, Mikhail’s wife didn’t join because her husband is a bastard. As soon as he heard I arranged this meeting, he said she wasn’t feeling ‘well’, and then Damien snickered and whispered to me that he would send his wife over if he had one.