Throne of Power: An Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance (Throne Duet Book 1)
Throne of Power: Chapter 20

I put on my pearl earring and tilt my head so I can hold my phone over my shoulder.

Ruslan is briefing me about the security measures we spent two weeks putting in place for today’s brunch. I made the calls and had Lazlo’s wife, sister, and a few other Italian mafia leaders’ women join in.

Even Sergei and Igor said it was a good plan. Kyle didn’t mention that he plotted it and let me take all the credit—not that I needed him to. Still, as someone whose ideas are always credited to others—intentionally or unintentionally—it felt nice that he left the ball in my court this time.

Katia even said maybe he did it on purpose.

Who knows? All I’m sure about is that nothing will screw up this day.

“Get the car ready,” I say after Ruslan finishes. “Anastasia and I will come down in a few.”

My muscles are straining despite the long run I went on with Ruslan and Katia this morning. We often train together to keep in shape, but lately, even physical workouts aren’t cutting it.

After I hang up, I finish putting on the other earring. My movements slow down when I catch Kyle’s reflection in the mirror. He’s standing right behind me, his chest separated from my back by a mere breath.

This is the dozenth time he’s been able to sneak up on me, and I only see him when he intends it. What other surprises does he have in store for me that won’t happen unless he allows them to?

He’s dressed in a light blue shirt and dark gray pants. His hair is styled and he smells of his standard shower gel, only there’s nothing standard about his scent. There’s a special masculine musk that I’m only able to smell on him. Either he’s too unique or I’m so attuned to him that I effortlessly recognize his natural scent.

“Shouldn’t you be downstairs?” I pretend to fix the pearls around my neck.

“I’d rather drive my beautiful wife.”

“I have Ruslan.”

“I insist.” He places both hands on my shoulders, and I freeze when his thumb swipes over the new hickey he’s left on my neck.

Even though it’s mostly covered with foundation, it twinges back to life at his touch, causing me to squirm.

Ever since he came down my throat two weeks ago, he’s upped his methods of playing games. Now, I have absolutely no clue when the hell he’ll make the toy move inside me.

I’m kept on my toes all day, waiting for the familiar vibration. The sense of the unknown adds more to the anticipation until it’s almost…exciting.

Exciting—that’s such a strange word in my dictionary, but if there’s a definition for it then it’s absolutely Kyle.

When the toy does go off, I nearly come then and there. If he’s in my vicinity or calls me just to stimulate me, an orgasm is usually a given, and it’s tenfold stronger.

Our dynamics are odd, and we often clash on everything. We’re still both fighting for the power that will give us free rein to achieve our goals.

Me, because I want to protect my family and the legacy Dedushka left behind.

Kyle, I assume because he wants to climb the ladder of the Vory. I assume because I can never be too sure about anything that concerns him. He’s still a dark tunnel with no way out.

He leaves meetings as soon as he pleases, pretending to have to work, but then he’ll be typing away on his phone as if it’s his lover or something. I try not to notice the subtle ways he agrees with my propositions during meetings, even if those disagree with Igor’s suggestions. He does it with humor, and discreetly as to not draw attention. Kyle is smart, and the way he’s been helping me cement my position in the brotherhood in the background, without speaking on my behalf, has been throwing me off.

When I asked him about his intentions, he said it’s because we’re husband and wife. I’m far from falling for his words, but I also can’t figure out why the hell is he doing all of this.

Then, during some nights, he’s been coming home late, after I fall asleep. I only sense him when he spoons me from behind and removes the toy from inside me.

In the mornings, he wakes me up with his teeth nibbling on my neck and his fingers thrusting deep inside me, then he won’t let me go until I scream my orgasm.

I hate how natural this routine has become in the span of two weeks. I hate that when he didn’t join me last night, I kept tossing and turning all night. The ghosts from the past crowded my space, and I couldn’t shoo them away no matter how much I tried. Or that when he didn’t put the toy inside me this morning, I felt something was missing.

“Aren’t you going to ask where I was?” He keeps stroking my neck.

I lift my perfume bottle even though I already sprayed some. “I don’t care.”

“Are you saying you didn’t miss me last night and this morning?”

I rub some perfume on my wrist. “Not at all.”

“Not even a little?”

My lips tremble, but I mutter, “No.”

“I bet your body missed me.” He wraps his fingers around my throat from behind as his other hand wanders down my back before he grabs my ass cheek in his strong palm. “I bet if I checked on your pussy, she’d tell me the truth.”

Tingles erupt at the bottom of my stomach and I resist the urge to close my eyes and fall into the sensations he elicits from my body. The way he grabs me by my throat, hard and merciless, stimulates me like nothing else can.

But I won’t let him have his way again. He left last night, just like he left seven years ago. And this time? This time, I kept staring at his phone number, but I didn’t press the green phone. When I called in the past, all I heard was the same message over and over again, and that message gives me fucking nightmares.

So even though my body would willingly surrender to his touch, I won’t. He killed that part of me.

Pulling away, I coerce him to release me and turn around to face him. “I don’t care where you spend your time or who you spend it with.”

“I’m not leaving,” he says calmly, soothingly, almost like he read my previous thoughts.

My chin trembles and I force it to stay in place. “I don’t care if you leave.”

“And I’m telling you I’m not. You might not want to know where I was, but I’m going to be a model husband and tell you anyway. I had a meeting with Nicolo Luciano in his club and he insisted I join him and his brothers for a drink in their house.”

“I said, I don’t care.”

“Before that, I got myself tested for your sake and had the clinic email you the results,” he continues as if I said nothing. “If I came back semi-drunk, I would’ve fucked you, so I chose to crash in the Luciano mansion.”

I pretend his words mean nothing as I leave the room and go downstairs. The dining room door is closed, which means Sergei is having another morning meeting.

Anastasia is sitting on a sofa in the entrance while Vlad is talking to her guards. She’s wearing a sophisticated flowery dress. Her hair is loose and her heels are brand spanking new.

As soon as she sees me, she stands and spins around, grinning. “How do I look?”

“Perfect, as usual.” I kiss her cheek and let her place her arm in mine as I address Vlad. “We already went through the security procedures with the guards.”

“There’s no harm in repeating them.” His gaze slides from me to Anastasia, and back again. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No need.” Kyle’s voice cuts in from behind us. “I’m accompanying the ladies.”

It’s pointless to fight him on this. He’ll just start another verbal war with Vlad, and I don’t have time for that. So I simply nod at Sergei’s second-in-command to communicate that I’m fine with it, then I head outside.

Kyle places a hand on the small of my back. The possessive gesture isn’t lost on me. He’s doing this so Vlad knows to stay the fuck away. He’s been making it a habit in front of him and the other leaders in the brotherhood—especially Damien.

I try to get out of Kyle’s hold, but that only causes him to tighten it further, eliciting a shudder down my spine.

He drives Ana and me to the coffee shop we rented for the brunch. It’s located in a quiet neighborhood and is considered private enough that Adrian agreed to send his wife.

Still, guards, both ours and the Italians’, fill the surrounding streets and the area behind the coffee shop. The Irish have been quiet for some time now, and that’s not always a good sign.

If anything, they might have stayed under the radar just to prepare for a bigger attack.

As soon as we reach the building, I exit the car before Kyle properly parks it. Anastasia follows after me, as does Kyle. I turn around to shoo him away. “It’s women only. Go back.”

“I’m sure they will appreciate my company.”

Just when I’m about to speak, a long car stops right in front of us.

One of the Italians.

A guard comes out and opens the back door. A petite brunette exits the vehicle, wearing a huge hat and white-framed sunglasses.

Emilia Luciano, Lazlo’s youngest sister, whom he raised himself.

A grin plasters on her red-painted lips as she runs toward us and throws herself in Kyle’s arms, kissing his cheek. “Long time no see, you.”

What the…

“I wouldn’t call it long,” Kyle says, not attempting to peel her off him.

“You’re right. Last night wasn’t that long ago, but why does it feel like it?”

Last night.

Last fucking night?

I thought he was with her brothers, but he forgot to mention the sister. My hand balls into a fist around my bag’s strap, and it takes everything in me not to hit both her and him across the face.

Why should I care? I meant what I said earlier—I don’t give two fucks about where and who he was with.

And yet, an acid-like sensation instantly melts my insides.

It’s the humiliation. That’s it. That’s the only reason why I feel like I’m at the point of combusting right now.

Dedushka taught me that my honor and dignity come before anything else, and if anyone tries to tarnish them, I shouldn’t let them be.

That’s why I barge straight between them and offer my hand to Emilia. “Rai Sokolov, your hostess for the day.”

She pulls away from Kyle to take my strong handshake with a meek one. “Emilia. Nice to officially meet you. My brothers talk about you a lot.”

“The pleasure is all mine. I’m glad my reputation precedes me.”

“They’re not always good stories.” She tries to hide the jab with a smile.

“Even better.” I slip my hand into Kyle’s arm. “I see you already met my husband.”

My tongue doesn’t feel weird around the word. If anything, it’s natural. The hell?

“Oh, right.” She continues her disingenuous smile. “He’s a keeper, this one.”

I return her smile with my own. “I know that more than anyone since I married him. See you inside.”

She hesitates as if she wants to spend more time here, but then mutters, “Sure.”

“Ana.” I smile at my great-cousin. “Can you please show her the way?”

She takes the hint and walks beside Emilia to make sure she leaves. I keep watching her back until she disappears.

“I didn’t know you were capable of jealousy, Princess.”

It’s then I realize I’ve been digging my nails into Kyle’s arm with all my might. I let it go with a jerk and lift my chin. “I wasn’t jealous.”

“Then what do you call what just happened?”

“I was only protecting my honor. Disrespect me again and I will disrespect you in return.”

“And how, pray tell, will you do that?”

“Eye for an eye, Kyle. You know I believe in that. So next time you let a woman throw her arms around you, know I’ll replace another man to throw my arms around. Fuck a woman and I’ll fuck two men—and a woman, if I’m in the mood.”

He grabs me by the throat. The motion is so quick I gasp, eyes widening. He backs me up until my behind hits a car. His usually nonchalant eyes rage with a storm so deep I feel it straight against my throat. “Don’t ever, and I mean ever, repeat that. You’re my wife—know your fucking place.”

“And you’re my husband,” I mutter through clenched teeth. “Know your fucking place.”

“Don’t attempt to play with my fire, Rai. The moment a man so much as looks at you, let alone touches you, I will slice his fucking throat and watch as life leaves his eyes so he knows in every last second that he shouldn’t have touched what’s mine.”

“Then treat me the same. I’m your wife, and therefore, your equal, not a second-rate citizen you can do with as you please. Don’t dish out your double standards on me—you won’t like how I react.”

“Believe me, you won’t like how I’ll react either. I believe in retribution, Rai.”

“Is that why you fucked Emilia last night?”

“I didn’t fuck Emilia.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“Jealous, Mrs. Hunter?”

“I’m just asking in case I have to call someone up. Kai or Damon would be up for it.”

His jaw tightens. “Rai…”

“What?” I snap. “You did it first.”

“I didn’t fuck Emilia. Why would I do that when I have you?”

“Your words won’t get you anywhere. I need proof.”

“My word is all the proof you need. You have to start believing it for this marriage to work.”

“Who told you I want this marriage to work?”

“Then would you rather we destroy each other?”

“Aren’t we already?”

We continue staring at one another, gazes clashing and bodies tense. I don’t know how long it lasts, but at some point, his hold on my neck turns less threatening and more…sexual. I don’t know when the shift happens or if it’s all in my mind, but my skin turns tingly and so do my thighs.

Kyle lowers his head so that his mouth is a few inches away from mine as he whispers, “You’re so fucking stubborn.”

“You knew that when you married me,” I murmur back, not able to take my attention off his lips.

“That I did. I just didn’t know how bloody insane it would drive me.”

“You can still leave.”

“I told you I won’t.”

My stomach flip-flops, shifts, and contracts as if butterflies are slashing straight through it. No, not butterflies. It’s something more potent.

I lean in close, and so does Kyle. When our lips are about to touch, the sound of a car pulls us back to the present.

Shit. I actually forgot that we’re in public.

This is why Kyle is dangerous to me. He can pull me into mazes of his own making, and one day, he might not allow me out.

The back door opens and a petite woman with soft features gets out. Her dark hair is tied into an elegant ponytail. She’s wearing a designer beige skirt suit and keeps the hand that wears her wedding ring on top of the other.

Lia Volkov, Adrian’s wife.

A sense of relief hits me at seeing a familiar face—as familiar as it gets. The last time I saw her was three months ago on Sergei’s birthday. Adrian keeps her hidden to a fault. She didn’t even attend the wedding. In all honesty, the only reason she came to Granduncle’s birthday was that it would’ve been disrespectful if Adrian didn’t bring her.

“I have to go,” I whisper to Kyle. “You can leave.”

He steals a quick kiss from my lips before he releases my throat. “Tonight, Mrs. Hunter.”

I don’t know what he means by that, but I don’t have time to press the issue since he gets in his car.

Ignoring him, I try to tame the flaming of my cheeks as I meet Lia. She smiles faintly at me, and even that appears sad. She has a generally wretched expression, like she’s constantly sad or haunted—or both.

Due to not attending most gatherings, the other wives don’t really like her much, and therefore, I’m basically the only resemblance of a friend she has.

“Long time no see, Lia.” I kiss her cheek.

She returns the gesture. “I’ve been a bit unwell, and you know how Jeremy needs a lot of attention.”

“I can only imagine. Is your baby boy doing well?”

Her expression lights up at the mention of her son. “He is. He’s so smart.”

“Just like his father.”

“Sort of.” Her voice is barely a whisper as we head to the building. There’s something odd about the way she walks that I’ve never noticed before. It’s mechanical, forced even.

When she catches me observing her, she blurts, “Congrats on your wedding. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.”

“It’s better that you didn’t. It wasn’t exactly safe. Didn’t Adrian tell you?”

“I figured something was wrong,” she says in the same forced way she’s walking.

I stop at the entrance and face her. “Is everything okay, Lia?”

“What?” Panic fills her eyes and her skin turns a pale shade of white. “W-why?”

I touch her elbow and she flinches, so I drop my hand. “You don’t look so well. Would you prefer to leave?”

“No. Adrian said I have to be here.”

“He forced you to come?” I all but shout.

“Please d-don’t yell, please,” she whispers, her hands flat-out shaking as she watches our surroundings. “That’s not what I m-meant…I…can you please forget the last couple of minutes happened?”

“Hey,” I soothe, “it’s okay. If something’s wrong, you can tell me and I will help, all right?”

Her gaze shifts behind us to where the guards are stationed.

“No one will say anything. I outrank everyone here, and whatever you tell me will be our secret. You have my word.” She still appears hesitant, so I smile. “You don’t have to tell me right away. Take your time to think about it.”

She nods once, and that’s when I notice a red dot on her forehead—a red sniper dot.

My muscles turn rigid, but I remain calm, my expression unchangeable. “Lia, don’t move.”

“Why?” She sounds as spooked as I feel.

I push her down and a bullet shoots straight into the door. A body slams into me from behind and smashes me to the ground.