Throne of Power (Throne Duet #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,14
you if it were up to me.”
Kyle lets his hands fall to his sides. “Would you have married Damien? Or how about Vlad?”
“Gladly. Anyone but you.”
He smirks, but instead of taunting, it appears downright sinister, almost as if he’s bottling something else behind the gesture. “Unfortunately, you’re stuck with me.”
“Not if you tell Sergei no.”
“Why would I?”
“Are you fucking serious?” I yell.
“Keep your voice down.” He advances toward me again, this time flattening his hands on either side of my face, caging me against the wall. “And yes, I’m dead serious. I will make you my wife.”
“In your dreams.”
“Fine with me. But will it be fine with you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“If it’s not you, Anastasia will do. I heard she grew up into a fine young lady.”
“Don’t you dare, Kyle.”
“It’s easy. You already took her place in front of the others, so you might as well continue.”
“You will keep your filthy hands far away from Ana.”
“Filthy hands, huh?” He wraps a hand around my throat, his long fingers closing firmly, but not tightly, around my neck. I can still breathe, but each intake is torturous, as if I’m borrowing air from my life essence.
The familiarity of the gesture keeps me pinned in place, almost like he hit a button of sorts and I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. There has always been something special about his hands. His fingers appear long and masculine, like a gentleman’s, but in reality, they’re the same fingers that’ve pulled countless triggers without hesitation.
A killer’s hands, and a very heartless one at that.
His head lowers so his hot lips meet my ear. “You didn’t think they were filthy when they taught you how to kill.”
“Let me go.” I meant to snap, to yell, but my voice comes out low and almost wounded.
“Then I guess these filthy hands will be all over Ana.”
“Not if I kill you first.” I glare at his unfeeling, expressionless eyes.
“You think you can kill me? That’s grand coming from you.”
“You think I can’t?”
“Not unless you’re ready to be brought down with me. You know me, Princess, I give back as much as I take.”
“So do I.”
“Really? How so?”
“You think I don’t know you’re playing a game right now?”
He smirks, and this time, it’s mischievous. “What type of game?”
“A power game. You left the Vory for a reason and came back for a reason.”
“What type of reason?”
“I don’t know yet, but I will find out.”
“Until then, I will marry Ana.”
“No way in hell.”
His face turns blank as he tightens his hold on my neck as if to drive the point home. “Then do us all a favor and stop being fucking stubborn.”
I meet his unfeeling eyes with my grudge-filled ones. I try not to be angry because anger makes me do stupid things. Anger drives me out of my element and gives my opponent the upper hand.
I’m cornered into this no matter how much I try to get away from it. I have no doubt that Kyle will move on to Anastasia if I refuse him. His purpose isn’t me; it’s the power he can get by finding a way into the Sokolov family, and until he achieves his goal, he won’t stop. Ever.
So instead of fighting him head-on in a losing battle, I choose to retreat to reform my line.
“Fine. Let me go.”
“Does this mean you agree?”
“Yes,” I manage through gritted teeth.
He releases me, but doesn’t step back as he whispers, “For better or worse.”
“Fuck you.”
He chuckles, the sound echoing around us like a sonata. I try not to get caught up in how handsome he looks when he laughs, when his angular features ease and he appears every bit the model on the cover of a GQ magazine.
After his fit ends, Kyle reaches out a hand and traces a finger over my bottom lip. “I will take good care of you, Princess.”
The joke’s on him.
I’ll forget about whatever foolishness I felt for him in the past, because that? It was a big fat lie. Instead, I’m going to get under Kyle Hunter’s skin so deep, exploit his power, and then use it against him.
When the hurricane hits him out of nowhere, he’ll understand why storms are named after women.
6
Kyle
I stare at Rai’s back as she leaves the house. Her steps are confident and wide, with a gentle sway of her hips I’m sure she doesn’t even notice having.
Beneath the ice-cold exterior, there’s a feminine side she crushed and burned before it was able to blossom.