Throne of Power (Throne Duet #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,47

me out, I will follow you in my car.”

“And do what?” I feign nonchalance. “Tell Lazlo you’re sorry he got shot at our wedding?”

“Exactly.”

“No. It will appear disrespectful if a woman is sent to visit him.”

Her lips thin into a line, because she knows I’m right. The Italians are as traditional as the Russians, if not worse. They don’t take well to women in leadership positions—at all. The only reason she’s allowed in the Vory’s inner circle is due to being Nikolai’s granddaughter and her being smart enough to remain in the background while her granduncle rules. It doesn’t mean she likes or accepts the sexist reality of the world she was thrown into, though. Rai has always been the type who swims against the current.

“It’s not disrespectful since it was my wedding,” she counters.

“Our,” I correct her.

She glares at me but doesn’t comment on that and says, “Point is, the Lucianos will appreciate the gesture.”

“No, they won’t, and you’re not the one who will be faulted for this. Sergei will appear disrespectful for sending you.”

“He didn’t.”

“They will assume he did.”

“If we go together, it will be more respectful.” She steals a glance at Adrian. “Right?”

Still not participating in the conversation and observing the show like a freak, he shakes his head once.

Rai’s shoulders sag, expression falling. She knows she’s been pushed into a corner and can’t do anything about it.

For some reason, something inside me tightens at the look in her eyes, the frustration mixed with despair.

I don’t want that look on her face. Ever. No idea why, but I just don’t like it.

“Unless you ask to meet his wife?” I suggest.

Adrian raises a brow at me as if he knows exactly where my train of thought went and why the hell I’m saying this when I was so hell-bent on kicking her out.

“You mean, console her?” she asks.

“Something of the sorts, but it needs to look authentic and not out of pity.”

“Then that’s a good reason for me to go with you now.”

“No.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because it wouldn’t seem genuine.” I pause, stroking her arm. She’s as caught up by surprise as I am by the gesture, her huge eyes staring up at me. “Set up a brunch for women only and make her the guest of honor.”

Her nose twitches as she winces before she quickly hides it. That’s weirdly adorable. “I’m not good at female bonding.”

“You’re doing just fine with Anastasia and—”

She places her palm on my mouth, shutting me up, and shakes her head discreetly. Right. She doesn’t want anyone in the Vory to know about the existence of her twin sister. I have my suspicions that Adrian has figured it out already, though.

I remove her hand but still hold it in my palm. I don’t know when the fuck touching her became so familiar to the point of turning into an addiction. “Have Anastasia help you and you’ll get through it.”

She narrows her eyes on me in that suspicious way. I wouldn’t blame her. All my actions have been red-alert-worthy.

“I don’t trust you,” she says point-blank.

“As you shouldn’t. The moment you trust me, you start digging your own grave, Princess.”

“Then how do you expect me to go along with this plan?”

“I don’t have to tell you which is the best option. That brain of yours already works in overdrive, so listen to what it tells you.”

She watches me for a second too long. I don’t attempt to cut off eye contact. There’s something addictive about a war of gazes with Rai—another thing that hasn’t changed.

A clearing of a throat causes her to look away first.

“If you’re done with your honeymoon…” Adrian trails off.

“Nah, the honeymoon starts tonight.” I give Rai a suggestive glance.

“As if!” She hits me on the shoulder and opens the car’s door.

“She’s kinky,” I whisper to Adrian.

She swings back toward me, glaring, and a red hue covers her cheeks. “I heard that, and I’m not.”

“Well, one of us is.”

Adrian’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t fully smile. Those are as rare as a passing unicorn over England’s sun.

If possible, Rai’s cheeks redden further, but she chooses to ignore me. “Can I count on Lia to come to the brunch?”

At the mention of his very sheltered wife, Adrian’s demeanor changes even though his expression remains the same. There’s a slight tightness in his muscles that a normal person wouldn’t notice. The reason I do is that we were trained to read body language, especially that of an opponent before an attack. That’s Adrian right