“I think it’s safe to say they weren’t here to investigate,” Rachel said.
“Looks that way,” Daniel said, wiping his finger over the freshly cleaned wall. The blood stains were gone—all traces of Abi were gone.
“What do we do now?” Rachel asked.
“We go to war with Adani,” Daniel said with fearful eyes.
Asher
Asher stifled a yawn that threatened to slip from his throat. It had been a long day, and it wasn’t over yet. He reached for a glass of water as he refocused his attention on the Adani official who had traveled to meet with them today. He listened, nodded, and contributed where he could. This would be his life now—pleasing allies and playing the political game.
Could he do it?
Was there someone better?
Asher refrained from looking toward his brother, who had been in the background all day. Asher didn’t know what he’d expected from Alistair, and he was having trouble reading him. He seemed unusually calm and controlled—the exact opposite response Asher had predicted. Maybe Alistair was relieved that he wasn’t going to be weighed down by the responsibilities that came with the crown prince title. Asher wanted to believe that, but Alistair had an ego, and he couldn’t fathom that being stripped of the title hadn’t left him incensed—and yet he’d displayed none of that. Was it all an act?
Asher nodded in response to the Adani official, grateful when they concluded the meeting. Asher stood, extending his hand and smiling for the cameras. As much as Asher hated to admit it, their reliance on Adani was crucial to growing their economy. Adani was known as the bully, the country that manipulated other countries and withdrew aid when they didn’t get what they wanted. So far, Asher had been pleased with the deals he had negotiated—he thought they were win-win. But how long would the relationship remain that way? He knew his father was thinking the same thing.
For now, all was good and Asher beamed a smile, thanked the official, and watched the man’s back as he walked from the stage. Asher would always be mindful of the multiple faces his “ally” could wear.
With the meeting over, Asher allowed himself to steal a glance at Alistair. But what he wasn’t expecting to see was the strained look on his mother’s face. It took Asher a moment to realize she was speaking to someone on the telephone.
What is going on?
“Asher,” King Martin said, “we have one last teleconference.”
Asher turned his attention to his father, who looked to be holding up surprisingly well, but Asher knew otherwise. It was all a pretense for Santina, for their allies—even for themselves.
“Sure,” Asher said. He stole one more glance at his mother as she turned and walked away from them.
Focus.
The Queen could handle herself. Right now, he had to be the crown prince Santina needed—he couldn’t worry about anything, or anyone, else.
Asher was escorted into another room, its walls lined with security. The boardroom table was large, filling the room, save for the red velvet chairs that surrounded it.
Asher sat beside his father, preparing himself for the role he needed to play. Truth be told, he just wanted to go home and relax. But his carefree days of leaving the palace when he wanted and setting his own schedule were over.
This was his life now, and he would fulfill his destiny.
The sun had fallen by the time Asher finished his meetings and returned to the palace. As he sat in the back of the car, he looked to the first stars, wondering what fate lay ahead of him. How would he be remembered in one hundred years’ time? Would he be known as a good king, or would he be remembered as a failure?
As if his father could read his mind, he said, “You did well today, Asher. You were born for this role.”
But he wasn’t, not really. Alistair had been—but Asher knew that wasn’t what his father was implying.
He mustered a smile. “Thank you. I don’t think I ever fully realized the weight on your shoulders until today. It’s just starting to sink in.”
His father nodded. “You get used to it. I still remember the day I became king. I feared what would become of my life. I knew I had to say goodbye to everything that didn’t serve me—all my distractions—and had to become the best version of myself, because who else can lead a country? It is a rewarding role, Asher, but it is not easy. I won’t lie to you about that.”
“How do you sleep at night? There are so many problems and no easy solutions.”
King Martin clasped his hands together, placing them in his lap. “Because ultimately I believe in Santina, and I believe we will prosper. Our country has been through difficulties before; we’ve always overcome them. And there’s one factor we often overlook when we consider our allies,” he said with raised eyebrows. “We are the center of peace in a region surrounded by war. They need us to remain that way—the entire world needs us to stay strong—because if we destabilize, the entire region will suffer, and the world will be impacted by the burden of refugees and terrorism that will blossom like black mold. We are the last hope, and for that they will continue to work with us.”
Asher watched his father carefully as he asked his next question. “But what will we do if we destabilize?”
The King’s smile faded. “We cannot know the answer to that unless it happens, but our international connections will be even more important.”
They arrived at the palace and Asher was surprised to see the Queen waiting for them. When he thought back to her earlier behavior, he supposed he shouldn’t have been.
She smiled when she saw them, but there was no joy in her eyes.
“We all need to talk,” she said as she took her husband’s arm and led him inside.
Jesse gestured for Asher to go ahead.
Emilia set a fast pace and led them straight to the King’s office. King Martin sat at his desk, and Asher stood, feeling increasingly uneasy with every second that passed. This was unusual behavior for his mother.
“I received a phone call today. A call to your cell phone,” she said, looking at Asher. “We were informed Abigail Bennett has been taken hostage.”
The walls shifted and Asher stuck out a hand, grabbing the chair for support. “What?” he asked, his voice a rasp. His pulse became frantic.
“One of Abi’s team members called,” his mother said, concentrating on Asher. “It was Rachel. They had a team mobilized but needed to get across the border. The border was closed today due to the service, but I called Colonel Stevens and secured them access. I haven’t heard from Rachel since.”
“When was she taken?” Asher asked with a shaky voice. He couldn’t stand still, he couldn’t think—he had to help her.
His mother looked to the crystal clock on the King’s desk. “The exact timing isn’t known, but approximately six hours ago. The team would’ve crossed the border about four hours ago.”
“Give me my phone,” Asher said, extending his hand.
His mother passed it to him, and he looked through the call register and messages, but they hadn’t missed anything.
“What happens now?” he quickly asked.
“IFRT will do what they do best,” the King said, drawing in a tight breath. “We will do nothing at this stage unless our help is requested. Otherwise, we might make the situation worse for Abi.”
“Where was she when she was taken?” Asher asked his mother.
“Adani. Rachel said they found her car abandoned and a blue band left on the seat. Apparently the bands are used as a communication device, and blue is for a kidnapping.”
“Do you think it’s a coincidence this happened today—the day of the ceremony?”
Emilia visibly swallowed. “I don’t know, Asher. But you are not to blame for this. Abi was doing IFRT business in Adani. She has always been aware of the risks.”
Asher leaned forward, resting his palms on the chair. His mother was right, yet he had to admit those risks had increased as result of their relationship. But again he wondered who knew of their relat
ionship.
“Asher, think before you do anything,” his father said carefully. “She was taken on Adani land, and we need to be very careful about what happens next.”
“Careful?” Asher asked, with blazing eyes. “For us? So that our negotiations don’t fail? What about the fact that Adani is harboring a Santinian citizen? They should be helping us!”
“Adani will not want the fact that the leader of a humanitarian agency—and Crown Prince Asher’s girlfriend—was taken on their land to be publicized. The Adani king has been making a concerted effort to bolster their poor reputation for personal freedom and safety within the kingdom,” the King said.
Asher’s mouth fell open. “You can’t ask me to do nothing at all.”
His father looked to him, his eyes unrelenting. “If you do something reckless, Adani will withdraw their aid, their support, and come the new year, we will not have food for our people. We have already seen a huge cut in relief from other countries due to our differing political views on their involvement in the wars surrounding us. This is the game we play, Asher—foreign aid leads to dependency on our ‘friends.’ If we disagree with them or point out their flaws to the world, they will withdraw their aid. How many will die then? Or should we not care about them—innocent people who have taken none of the risks Abigail Bennett takes?”
“I’m not suggesting we go in guns blazing! But to do nothing will also show Adani that we are at their mercy.”
“We are at their mercy,” King Martin said with a strained voice. “Adani is a key international player. They have strong ties with America and with Europe. They are powerful because of their wealth.”
The Queen’s mobile rang. “Put this argument on hold,” she instructed, and even the King obeyed.
“Hello,” she said before her jaw dropped open. “I’m so sorry. I know, I know . . . that’s not a good idea. Emma—” She sighed as she dropped the phone away from her ear as if the call had ended. “Emma Bennett,” she said by way of explanation. “William Bennett wants to talk to you and Asher. No one else. They’re on their way to the palace.”
“No,” King Martin said defiantly.
The Queen’s eyes softened. “This is his daughter. I would hope he would extend you grace if the situation were reversed and it was Asher or Alistair. Hear him out, that’s all I ask.”
It was unnerving to see the tension between his parents. They had always appeared united. Always.
The King sighed, and his jaw clenched. “Fine.”
The minutes passed like days, but eventually there was a knock on the door.
Asher stood, very aware the air in the room had just thickened—he felt like he could hardly breathe.
William Bennett entered, followed by his wife. William’s eyes passed over Asher before landing on King Martin.
“Martin, thank you for meeting me,” William said tersely, standing until the King gestured for him to sit.
Asher stood to the side.
“Your Majesty,” Emma said with a slight bow.
“Hello, Emma,” the King said.
William Bennett looked at his hands, seeming to search for the right words. “Neither of us want to be here, I know that. But this is my daughter.”
“I’m very well aware of that,” the King said. “And this is my kingdom, and I have millions of people to protect.”
“And I am very well aware of that.” William sighed. “But I am here nonetheless. Whoever has taken Abi may be making a threat against you and Asher too.”
King Martin frowned. “How, exactly?”
William Bennett passed him what appeared to be a tape recorder. “Abi was wearing a communication device. The team was listening and recording everything picked up by it. It also has a transmitter, so they were able to trace her location; but the communication device was discovered by her captives, and when they arrived at the site, Abi was gone.”
Asher felt like he was going to be sick. He looked to Jesse, wondering how far his contacts extended. Could he do something?
“Play the tape. You can decide for yourself if you’re concerned,” Bennett said.
The King looked unimpressed, but he started the tape. Asher quickly recognized the Old Adani language, and he was glad his father had insisted he learn it many years ago. His father had said he would never be able to negotiate with their allies if he didn’t speak their language.
“Hello, Abigail. What a treat this is. Daughter of William Bennett, leader of IFRT, and girlfriend of Prince Asher,” a man’s voice said.
Asher’s stomach churned violently.
“You are going to make so many of my men happy.” The man laughed and Asher’s rage billowed. He knew exactly what the man was implying. “What will Crown Prince Asher think of his impure girlfriend? You won’t make a very good queen . . . Because he will be king. Soon. It didn’t take us long to get to Noah, and soon the new king will have no one left but a dirty whore. Santina will fall, and we will take it.”
Asher couldn’t breathe. He looked to his father, who looked like he’d stopped breathing.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t touch—” Asher cringed as he heard Abi’s scream. Emma Bennett walked out of the room. Asher didn’t blame her—it was almost more than he could handle.
“What is this wire?” the man asked angrily. “What the fuck is this? You stupid bitch!”
Abi’s bloodcurdling scream was the last thing they heard before the recording went quiet.
No one said a word.
“I am here because my love for my daughter is stronger than my hatred for you. I hope the same is true for your son and your beloved Santina,” William said, his voice gravelly.
“What do you want me to do?” the King asked simply. “If Adani officials are behind this, they won’t help. They’ll waste our time.”
The King and William Bennett stared at each other, but it was Jesse who spoke. “I will go, Your Majesty.”
“I can’t ask you to do that, Jesse,” King Martin said.
“I am offering,” he said.
William Bennett visibly relaxed.
“He is right,” Jesse said. “I am Abi’s best chance. Let me do this. I owe it to Noah, if nothing else.”
The King rubbed his temples, squeezing his eyes shut. Asher watched, realizing he had not been privy to an invisible conversation, but obviously these three men knew each other very well. Jesse was turning out to be full of surprises.
“Okay, okay,” King Martin said. “Jesse will send in a team to assist IFRT. We will find her and bring her back to Santina.”
“Martin,” William said, “thank you.”
Martin nodded, his face impassive. “Now please leave my office.”
William stood without hesitation. He nodded to Asher and thanked Queen Emilia as he left. Jesse escorted him out.
When the door closed, his father looked to him. “Jesse worked for Adani officials before he came to work for me. His network is wide, and he will be able to hear things no one else can—but the risk to him is high. Everyone knows he is my head of security, and that puts a target on his back. This could end so badly,” he said, tipping his head to the ceiling and squeezing his eyes shut.
“Thank you,” Asher said.
“I did this to protect my family and to honor Noah,” the King said, shaking his head. “The recording will be verified. It is perhaps too convenient that we were threatened before her communication device was disabled.”
Asher’s eyebrows lifted. He knew Abi’s voice, and that was her.
“You looked surprised,” his father said. “Where William Bennett is concerned, anything is possible.” He didn’t hide the loathing from his voice.
“Let’s focus on the task at hand,” Emilia interjected. “Who will handle security here while Jesse is gone?”
“Luke will coordinate security in Jesse’s absence,” Martin said. “Jesse will liaise on strategy with Luke. He’ll be back shortly once he has everything he needs from William.”
&nb
sp; “You need to rest,” Queen Emilia said, moving to stand beside him. “Let’s go.”
The King looked at his wife with nothing but affection.
Asher stepped aside for his parents to pass. Two security guards escorted them, one staying at the door to the King’s office.
It was the first time Asher had ever been alone in the King’s office—an office that would one day be his.
His chest tightened and his throat became thick.
He left the room and walked toward his living quarters. The palace was quiet; the servants must’ve finished their spring cleaning, because Asher didn’t see anyone. But he heard Abi’s scream. He heard it over and over again, and though he willed it to stop, it never did.
Where are you, Abi?
How long could she survive before Jesse could reach her—if he did?
Rachel
Rachel sat across from the man, watching every move he made. He was playing with his fingers and looking around the room—he was nervous.
“I don’t have time to play games,” Rachel said. “Please tell me what you know. IFRT has helped your people, and now we are asking you to return the favor.”
Rachel locked her eyes on his—eyes surrounded by deep creases that matched his wispy hair and leathered skin. It was the face of a man who’d lived a hard life.
He sighed, and Rachel saw the resignation in his eyes.
“Some of the village boys were playing by the side of the highway. They saw her car being forced off the road, and then four men stepped out. The boys saw them take the woman.”
“I need more details,” Rachel said. “You haven’t told me anything I don’t already know.”
The man looked her straight in the eyes.
“The boys recognized one of the men because he’d visited our village a few weeks ago on ‘official’ business. I think he was watching us even then. Perhaps they knew we’d helped IFRT in the past.”
“Are you sure he was an Adani official?” Rachel asked.
“Yes. And I know his name: Henry Walter,” the man said.
Blood, Love and Lies Page 19