Throne of Vengeance (Throne Duet #2) by Rina Kent

“You’re leaving?” Vlad asks once it’s just the two of us.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I breathe harshly, then whisper, “Is he following?”

“No.”

“Really?” I snap.

Vlad grunts. “If you wanted him to follow you, then maybe you shouldn’t have, I don’t know, rejected him?”

“Screw him.”

If he doesn’t know how to take a hint, I’m not going to do his job for him.

But he will eventually follow.

Right?





32





Kyle





“Fuck!”

I kick Rolan’s lifeless body. Even the arsehole’s death doesn’t feel as victorious as I thought it would.

Rai disappeared down the hall with that fucker Vladimir. He’ll have even more of an opening to be beside her now that I’m not there, which has been his purpose all along.

Motherfucker.

“She has you by the balls. I’m disappointed.” Flame leans against the doorframe and places a cigarette in his mouth, but instead of lighting it, he keeps flipping his lighter on and off. His Beware of Fire Hazard tattoo peeks out from underneath his sleeve with the movement.

“Shut the fuck up, Flame. He almost clipped my nails from my sniper hand, Godfather!”

“It didn’t happen.” Flame pauses flipping his lighter.

I narrow my eyes. “You wanted to do it.”

“But I didn’t. And stop moaning to Ghost like a little kid.”

“I’m going to—”

“Enough.” Godfather sighs, staring down at me. “Do you have the time to bicker with Flame right now? Shouldn’t you go after your wife?”

My throat bobs up and down with a swallow. “You saw how mad she got. Besides, I’ve already let her go.”

“Have you?”

“Yes, I have. Aren’t you the one who told me I’m dangerous to those I care about?”

“She didn’t seem to mind your craziness.”

I stare at him, unsure. “Really?”

“She was more worried about saving you, and did everything in her might to have as much manpower as possible. She was trembling when she found out you were taken by Rolan.”

That means…she cares, right?

Hope mounts and explodes in my chest with a force that leaves me breathless for a second. She would probably kick me in the balls if I chased her, though. But would it be worth it? Fuck yes.

Godfather slaps me upside the head, and I groan. “Ow. What was that for?”

“You’re married, already. Stop making people worry about you.”

“You…” I scratch the back of my head. “You don’t have to worry. I’ve changed.”

Flame scoffs from the background. “Changed, my arse.”

“Piss off, Flame. Your job here is done.”

“I think I’ll stick around for some time. Take me with you to the Russians. Heard there’s much more action there.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That won’t be a problem, punk.” He points his lighter at me, then flips it. “I made you.”

“Made me?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Fuck you.” I sigh, then focus back on Godfather. “Anyway, I’m a grown-up.”

“Then act like it.” He flicks my forehead. “And come visit. Elle asks about you.”

“She does?” I whisper my bemusement. “After everything that’s happened?”

“Not everyone is hardened like us, Kyle. She doesn’t hold a grudge against you—for reasons unknown.”

“The little punk always made people forgive him fast,” Flame says.

“It’s because of the charming face you’ll never have, Flame. Stop being jealous.” My mother said I get it from my father, but, apparently, that’s not Niall and I’m not a Fitzpatrick.

If my father is Russian and has been around long enough to have me, then he should be in his late fifties or early sixties…

The sound of footsteps cut into my thoughts as guards barge inside. Flame straightens.

“They’re Russians,” I say, squinting to recognize whose men they are. The showoff Mikhail. He always has his guards storm in before his majesty comes along.

No idea why he came here in the first place. Wait a fucking second…

I already called him and gave him evidence that ye’re his boy, so if he does want ye, he’ll show up.

Rolan’s words roll in my head with crystal clarity.

My mouth hangs open as Mikhail rushes inside, holding a gun. He’s old, around his late fifties or early sixties, and yet, he’s still in shape, aside from the panting.

“Where is he…?” He trails off when his eyes meet mine.

I see it then, the thing I was too blind to see over the years—the resemblance. Though his hair is sprinkled with white strands, it’s the same color as mine. His angular jaw and the shape of his eyes…they’re the exact fucking same as mine.

How the hell have I not noticed that before? Well, I never had a reason to believe Niall wasn’t my biological father, but still.

Mikhail studies Rolan’s body, and once he makes sure he’s dead, he approaches me slowly, expression softening. His guards remain behind, their guns tucked in front of them.