Throne of Vengeance: An Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance (Throne Duet Book 2)

by Rina Kent

  “Do you want her to see you this way?” Vladimir asks, but it’s clearly rhetorical since he continues. “Go shower, change clothes, and then come back. She’s not going nowhere.”

  I don’t like the way he speaks to me. It’s that fucking Russian condescension that runs in all their blood.

  “I’ll stand guard in front of her room until your return. She’s asleep anyway.”

  I throw a glance at her. She’s lying on her back, eyes closed, and her hand is splayed above her head on the pillow. It was one of her most adorable habits that she eventually got rid of.

  If she’s really going to be the Rai from ten years ago, that means she might never accept me as her husband again.

  I try to pretend that doesn’t slice me open in a hundred different painful ways.

  Staggering to my feet, I motion at Peter to stay in front of her room. I lean in to whisper, “Tell me if anything happens.”

  “Yes, sir,” he murmurs back.

  He’s a useless kid in battle, but he’s good when it comes to spying, at least.

  As I leave the hospital, I vow one thing.

  I’ll make sure Rai remembers me, even if it’s the last thing I do.

  4

  Rai

  I lie still in bed.

  My gaze is set on the ceiling, and it’s not because of its plain white color. I keep wondering when on earth my life went wrong.

  It’s not only because of the accident or the situation I find myself in. I think it started the day I chose to be in Reina’s shoes and become the Bratva’s next princess.

  At that time, all I thought about was my twin sister’s safety, but…I was also attracted to this life, to the danger, to the bursts of excitement that didn’t exist in my calm life with Dad.

  One thing led to another and I started running after danger so I could grab it by the horns.

  What I didn’t know is that during that race, I lost pieces of myself, of the little girl who loved her family and was ready to do anything for them.

  The sense of protection Dedushka implemented in me has grown to become a monster whose shadow follows me everywhere.

  The only way to get rid of it is to completely give up, to blow away my goals and everything I’ve worked for thus far.

  During my life in the Bratva, I’ve seen grown men tremble in fear because of what they’ve done. I’ve been surrounded by men who go to unimaginable lengths for power, money, and everything the brotherhood offers.

  I never wanted to be one of those men. And unlike what they think, I never wanted to rule over them or snatch the throne with ruthless hands as they do.

  The only thing I ever wanted was to be recognized for what I have to offer, regardless of whether or not I have a penis between my legs.

  I never once had any misconceptions about what I am or what I can do. I knew my limits and my strengths, and did everything to remain on top of things.

  So how come in a fraction of a second, I find myself in the middle of nowhere? How come I’ve stooped as low as thinking about giving up?

  You might not be a man, but you’re a Sokolov, Rai. And do you know what Sokolovs do? We snatch the throne even if the price is high. Don’t be afraid to shed blood, even if it’s your own.

  Dedushka’s words slam into me like an earthquake, rattling me from the inside out. Who am I to give up? My life isn’t the only one at stake. There’s also my twin sister, Sergei, and Ana—whom my granduncle forbade from visiting me for security reasons. There’s no way in hell I’d give up on them even if I give up on myself.

  The door opens then closes before Vlad strides inside with his usual broody silence.

  Sometimes, he looks just like the ceiling I was staring at: strong, hard, and impenetrable. And I need that strength right now.

  It’s not bad to admit I’m weak. It’s just another form of strength.

  “Do you feel better?”

  “Is he outside?” I murmur.

  “No. I convinced him to go change his clothes.”

  “Finally.”

  He lowers himself into the chair opposite me, his frame dwarfing it. “Why were you so insistent on having him leave?”

  “I haven’t lost my memories.”

  “What?” He stares at me for a second, as if I’ve completely lost my mind.

  I slide to a sitting position and yank the IV needle from my arm, then throw it away.

  “Are you going to explain what’s going on? Was the fall also false?”

  “That part was real, though I don’t remember how I ended up there. I believe someone pushed me.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. They had no accent and sounded male.”

  “That doesn't help. There are a hundred men in the mansion, but they wouldn’t dare to touch you.”

  I know exactly who dared to do that, but I don’t say his name aloud. If I do, Vlad will go straight to action and kill Kyle.

  He can’t die. Not yet.

  Not only did he cut me open and stab me countless times, he also used me to ruin my whole damn family.

  If he dies now, I won’t be able to know how deep his plan goes and how far ahead he planted his destructive seeds.

  When I was grabbed by that shadow, I thought my life ended, and foolishly, the last taste on my tongue was that of bitter betrayal. A tear escaped my lid, too, because the man I’d slowly been giving my trust to had been plotting my fall.

  And in that moment, all I wanted to ask him was why. Why would he do that to me?

  Those idiotic thoughts disappeared as soon as I woke up in the hospital. I have another chance, and I won’t use it to ask why. I’ll use it to make him pay.

  Finishing Kyle isn’t that hard. The moment I tell anyone in the brotherhood about what I heard, he’ll be dead. I could tell Damien since he’s been eyeing him unfavorably for some time, or even Vlad, but that isn’t the best way to hurt him.

  Since his sole purpose has been to ruin us and the Irish, the perfect method to ruin him is to abort his plan. Only then can he die. Only then can he pay for his sin.

  “Rai?” Vlad calls my name.

  I consider my words before I speak. “I’ll find out. They will eventually try to get me again.”

  “That’s dangerous as fuck.”

  “No accomplishments have ever been made without taking risks, my dear Vlad.”

  He grunts. “It’s not Vlad.”

  “It’ll always be Vlad for me, so you might as well save your breath.”

  “Back to the topic at hand—why did you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Make everyone believe you lost your memories. Do you realize the amount of stress you have caused the boss?”

  “I need the perpetrator fooled, and for that, everyone had to stay in the dark. Only the doctor, Ruslan, and Katia know.”

  “How did you come up with this plan in the first place?”

  “My twin sister, Reina, had amnesia once, and I just copied what she told me had happened to her.”

  “And now what?” he grumbles, running his hand over his beard. I can sense him losing his patience.

  “I think I know an in with the Irish.”

  “I already have a spy.”

  “No. This one is more in a leading position.”

  “Yes?”

  I nod.

  “And you have to act like you lost your memories for that?”

  I pick my words carefully to not mention Kyle’s name. Vlad can’t know about that yet. “Yes, because the one I got this information from thinks I heard him. If he believes I lost my memories, his guard will be down and he’ll feel like he got away with it.”

  He narrows his eyes. “Who is he?”

  “I’ll tell you when it’s time.”

  “Or you can tell me now.”

  “That’s not the point, Vlad.”

  “And what is?”

  “That I need him to think I have amnesia.”

  “But he will keep his eyes on you, a
nd when he figures out you’re lying, he’ll come back for you.”

  “By then, I will have finished my mission.”

  “You’ll still be gambling.”

  “If a gamble is what it takes, then I’m all in.”

  He grunts. “That’s dangerous.”

  “Danger is only an obstacle. I vowed to give back to the brotherhood as much as I took, and I’ll not allow anyone to take that away. I just need you to have my back, Vlad. You and my guards are the only people who know my condition.”

  He gives a grumbling yes before he asks, “How did you convince the doctor to lie on your behalf? Did you bribe him?”

  “Sort of. His wife works for V Corp, and I promised him shares.” I smile. “And Ruslan threatened to knock his teeth out if he as much as gets out word about it.”

  That’s so Ruslan. If I didn’t have him, Katia, and Vlad in these circumstances, I don’t know how I would react.

  Vlad watches me peculiarly for a second too long, as if he’s trying to solve one of his puzzles. He has a lot of those—huge puzzles he spends weeks solving. It’s a weird quirk of his, but it speaks of his personality. While Vlad’s appearance and general attitude peg him as a muscle man like Damien, he’s not. Vlad would never barge in like a crazy bull. He calculates first, and then when he attacks, he can be as violent as Damien, if not more.

  “What?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.

  “I’m thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “About why Kyle isn’t part of this.”

  My chest squeezes at the mention of his name, but all it finds is emptiness. I don’t want to hear his name, because that will force me to remember what he said on the phone. The cruel, final words that destroyed the bridge we were slowly building as if it’d been made from sand.

  Rai is nothing. I’ll just leave her behind.

  He smashed everything we could’ve ever had together.

  I might have considered forgiving him, but that’s also shattered into little unredeemable pieces. He didn’t only betray me, he also betrayed everything I stand for.

  My family.

  My duty.

  My honor.

  He crushed me and left me no choice but to crush him in return.

  “He doesn’t need to know,” I tell Vlad in a voice void of emotions. “He’s not part of the Bratva.”

  “But he’s your husband.”

  “That doesn’t automatically give him the right to know everything about my life.”

  Vlad narrows his eyes as if he feels I’m bluffing him. “Back then, when he said the bond between husband and wife is more important than anything else, you didn’t seem to disagree.”

  He did say that. The hypocrite.

  “That doesn’t matter. Let’s just keep it from him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because. Why are you so insistent on bringing him in?”

  “Why don’t you tell me why you want him out? Unless…”

  “What?”

  “Are you suspecting him? Because if you are, I’ll torture that fucker to death.”

  Shit. Shit. This is exactly why Vlad shouldn’t know.

  I keep my expression the same, because he’s watching me so closely he’d feel the change.

  “No. Of course not. I just don’t trust that he’s completely into the brotherhood.”

  “You trusted him enough to fall pregnant with him.”

  “I'm not pregnant, Vlad.” He should at least know that truth.

  “You’re not?”

  “It was a false positive and I didn’t want to disappoint Sergei.”

  “Huh.”

  “Is that a relieved tone or a disappointed reaction?”

  “Neither. Just piecing things together. So? What’s next in your grand plan?”

  I inhale deeply and release it through my teeth. This is it. My turn to play.

  “Come closer, Vlad. Here’s how it’s going to go.”

  5

  Rai

  Later that day, I tell the doctor I want to go home. Or more like, I inform him, since I didn’t stay around to treat any sicknesses, anyway.

  I’m about to change my clothes when Kyle steps inside, remaining at the door.

  In these past few days, I tried everything to separate myself from him. Not only did I strategically plot my amnesia so he’s in the part of my life I don’t remember, I also pushed him away every chance I could.

  Honestly, I should get acting awards for the ways I feigned panic attacks. But that first day? The one in which I cried? Yeah, those tears weren’t entirely acting. The betrayal was so tangible and raw and I had to express it somehow.

  I glare at him, but soon cut off eye contact because I’m not supposed to be glaring at someone I don’t remember.

  Kyle is perceptive to a fault, and what makes it more dangerous is that it’s not obvious on the outside. He gives off a nonchalant vibe when he actually observes everything in his environment. Part of it is because he’s a killer, and the other part is because he’s naturally distrustful.

  If I let my guard down even for a second, he’ll pounce on me. And because of that, I need to be careful while pushing him away.

  “The doctor said you’re free to go home. If you’re not feeling well, you can stay longer.”

  “I’m fine.” I motion at my dress on the bed that I was planning to wear before he came in. “Can you get out? I need to change my clothes.”

  He reaches me in two steps. “I will help.”

  “No. Just leave me alone.”

  I try to ignore how close he is and how his frame is nearly perching over mine with the height difference. His hair is damp and falls to his strong forehead. He must’ve taken a shower, changed clothes, and come right back in.

  He can pretend to be worried about me and my wellbeing all he likes, but I’m not an idiot who will fall for it after he’s been using me all along.

  Kyle doesn’t even attempt to leave. On the contrary, he barges into my space until his clean, distinctive scent robs my air, and just like that, I’m caged by his presence.

  There’s something about being trapped by him. Oxygen ceases to exist, and the world turns blurry except for the place where he stands. That’s not blurry at all. If anything, it’s lighter, shinier, and crystal clear. But not everything visible is beautiful. After all, the devil looks his best when luring in his victims.

  “Didn’t you hear what I said?” My voice doesn’t lose the edge, but I try not to come off too strong so it doesn’t raise red flags.

  “I did hear what you said, Princess. But I’m not leaving.”

  “Why the hell wouldn’t you?”

  “Because I said I will help.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “Yes, you do. Look at how you’re barely standing.” He reaches his hand out to grab my arm, but I pull away.

  “Katia will help me.”

  “Why Katia?”

  “Because she’s my guard.”

  “And I’m your husband.”

  The confident way he says those words almost makes me believe they’re real, that I somehow hold a special place in his black, cold heart.

  Wishful thinking. Just like everything about him.

  “You’re not my husband. I don’t know you.”

  “Then you will get to know me.” He turns me around and undoes the flimsy thing that holds my hospital robe in place.

  The thin material falls to my knees, then pools around my feet on the floor.

  I force my body to go numb and frigid like what he did to me. It doesn’t matter how much he touches me or how much his hands used to bring me unimaginable amounts of pleasure, because my body isn’t an entity on its own. It’s connected to my brain, and my brain recognizes that he betrayed me first.

  He broke the rules first.

  Kyle’s fingers wrap around my nape, studying the skin after the doctor removed the soft brace. His hands are gentle, almost as if he doesn’t want to hurt me
.

  The injury stings, but I hold the reaction in, refusing to let him see any pain.

  It’s strange how he’s touching me like this. No, it’s not that he’s touching me like this, but more that he’s not doing it in a sexual way as usual.

  He runs his fingers over my skin as if he’s relearning my body. Maybe he’s recalling something. Maybe he was the one who choked me.

  I wouldn’t be surprised if he was, but he couldn’t have been considering he was talking inside the room.

  “Who put their hands on you?” His voice is laced with a threatening energy.

  “Didn’t you hear the doctor? I don’t remember.”

  “Whether you remember or not, I promise to find whoever touched you and crush them before your eyes.”

  “I don’t need you to crush people for me. I can take care of myself.” I pause, unsure if that will give me away.

  But I hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. “Some things never change.”

  Phew.

  “But as your husband, I will avenge you.”

  “I don’t need vengeance.”

  His voice drops. “But vengeance is my specialty, Princess.”

  My heart thumps at the way he calls me that. Princess. At first, it was a term of degradation because I’m the boss’s granddaughter, but ever since he came back, it holds more meaning than it ever should.

  “I’m not your princess.”

  He grabs my bra and slides it up my arms, still soft and caring. “Yes, you are. You’re also my wife.”

  “I don’t remember marrying you.”

  “I can show you the registration papers or the video taken during the marriage when you said ‘I do’, although there was a very unfortunate event at the end of the wedding. I doubt you would want to see it.”

  He straps my bra in place and loops an arm around me to run his fingers along the soft flesh of my breast. At first, the touch is experimental, innocent almost. But I should know better; there’s nothing innocent about Kyle.

  His fingers linger more, becoming explorative as he feigns keeping my bra’s strap in place. He wraps his hand around my shoulder then trails it to my back, then returns to the front again.