Throne of Vengeance (Throne Duet #2) - Rina Kent Page 0,45
of skills.”
Kirill readjusts his glasses with his middle finger, glaring at me, but he drops the subject.
The waitress brings us a bottle of vodka and glasses, smiles at Kirill, then leaves. Damien uncaps the bottle, ignores the glasses, and drinks straight from it like the savage he is.
“Stop it.” I try to take the bottle from him, but he pushes me away.
“Drink your tea and leave me the fuck alone.”
“I can’t leave you the fuck alone when the brotherhood depends on this meeting.” I grab the bottle and yank it away, causing droplets to fall on his shirt. “You’re hard to handle sober, so there’s no way in hell you’re getting drunk on a day like this.”
He licks his mouth, wiping away the droplets of vodka that stuck to his upper lip. “Are you this bossy in bed, too? That lucky bastard, Kyle.”
“More like poor bastard,” Kirill mutters.
“Lucky or poor is none of your business.”
“Tell me, I’m curious.” Damien leans his elbow on the table. “What made you settle with Kyle, of all the men who surrounded you all your life? You had much better options. Hint: me.”
“He understands me better than anyone else,” I say without even thinking about it. That’s what always made Kyle special. He sometimes understands my needs before I do.
“How does one even begin to understand a witch?” Kirill asks.
“You would never know because when you start, you’re already under my spell.”
“Holy fuck, that must’ve hurt.” Damien barks out a laugh. “You okay there, Kirill? Want me to get you something for the burn?”
I smirk at Kirill and he flips me off. Damien uses my distraction to try to reach for the bottle of vodka. I swat his hand away, clasp the bottle, and place it in front of me under the table so he doesn’t have access to it.
Even though he’s sitting still, his eyes are shifty and agitated. I’m ready to bet it’s because of whatever seed Kirill planted in his head back at the house.
The door slides open again, and this time, it’s not the waitress. Kai walks in, followed by an old, short man who wears a pressed suit.
Abe Hitori. The leader of the Yakuza branch in New York.
Kirill and I stand in greeting, but Damien remains planted in place. Not only that, he also uses the chance of my standing up to grab the bottle of vodka.
I glare down at him, but he just sips from the bottle. “What? Surely they know how I am if they specifically asked for me. Right, old man?”
The motherfucker.
I curse inwardly, but I pause when Abe laughs, wrinkles forming around his eyes, then speaks in a subtle Japanese accent. “Always a black sheep, Damien.”
“I will drink to that.” He swallows another gulp of his vodka, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Now, spare us the suspense and let us know why we’re here.”
“Patience, young man.” Abe sits beside Damien, and the asshole doesn’t even attempt to give him room.
Kai smiles at me in greeting before he kneels beside me in an upright posture that somehow appears reverent. He places a hand on my thigh. “Have you been well?”
“Yes,” I murmur as I remove his hand. “And that question doesn’t need to be asked while you touch me, does it?”
He chuckles softly. “I didn’t expect anything less from you.”
After the food arrives, a mixture of soups, noodles, and an exquisite fish dish, Abe and Kai unhurriedly dig into their meals. Kirill and I join, mimicking their pace. Dedushka taught me how to use chopsticks a long time ago. He said respecting other people’s cultures goes a long way.
Damien, though, digs in with his bare hands, still sipping from the bottle every other bite.
We need to finish and get the hell out of here before he disrespects them anymore.
“Sergei sends his regards,” I tell Abe.
He merely nods, still focused on Damien. “Say, are you betrothed?”
“What’s that? Some type of food?” Damien asks between mouthfuls of fish.
“Marriage. Ever thought of it?”
“Why would I?”
“Maybe you should.”
“Well, maybe you should.”
“I am married.”
“No kidding. And here I thought you were single for life.”
“I’m going to propose something.”
“Why are you looking at me?” Damien motions at me and Kirill. “They usually do the talking thing.”
“I’m not interested in talking.”
“Then why have you brought me here in the midst of my busy schedule? I have people to kill, old man.”
Abe smiles again. “What if I said I have an offer to make?”