Serpenti

by Brooke Sivendra

  “Right, so if you were drugged, what does it matter?” Rachel asked.

  “Because I’m worried about how heavily I was drugged. If I was only lightly sedated, I could’ve been talking,” she said in a hushed voice.

  “Shit,” Rachel said under her breath.

  “Exactly. I could’ve told them anything—I could’ve told them exactly how IFRT operates, I could’ve told them things about my past . . .” she said, clearly pained.

  “You don’t know that happened,” Rachel said quickly.

  “My gut feeling is that something bad is going to come from it,” Abi said, looking away.

  Rachel took her hands. “You’re alive and we’re all back together. Whatever happens next, we deal with it together, right?”

  “I’m worried about the fallout I’m going to bring on Asher, Rachel. He doesn’t need me, he doesn’t need—”

  Rachel cut her off. “Asher is smart, and he makes his own decisions. He knows you don’t have a clean past, even the security team knows that. If Asher wants you by his side, that’s his decision to make. You’re making a mountain out of this before you even know if there’s an issue.”

  Abi nodded but Rachel knew she hadn’t completely gotten through to her.

  Rachel opened her mouth to continue when Reed walked in. “May I please have that file?”

  Rachel looked to Abi, who looked defiant.

  “I haven’t reviewed it yet,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest as if protecting it.

  “I’ll have it back to you within the hour,” Reed said without pause.

  “Once you’ve copied it?” Abi asked with a raised eyebrow.

  Reed smiled cordially. “Exactly. File, please.”

  Abi held his gaze and Rachel watched the standoff between them. Eventually Abi passed over the file. “You have thirty minutes.”

  Reed raised an eyebrow. “Yes, boss.”

  He turned and left without another word.

  “I don’t like him,” Abi said petulantly, sounding like a child.

  “No, you don’t like anyone telling you what to do. God help King Asher,” Rachel said with a laugh that sounded more like a groan.

  Abi chuckled. “Did you see the paper this morning?” she asked, her face growing somber.

  “I did . . . They love Asher. They really do,” Rachel said simply.

  Abi sighed. “They’re hailing him. That’s great, for now, but people are fickle, and the higher they hold him, the farther he has to fall when they decide they don’t like him again.”

  Rachel looked at Abi pointedly. “Do you believe in him?”

  “Yes,” Abi said without pause.

  “Then push those worries from your mind,” Rachel said. “Stand beside him, and keep him on the pedestal. Asher knows what he’s doing, whether he thinks he’s prepared or not—his father made him crown prince for a reason. His succession came sooner than intended, for sure, but sometimes the best way to learn to swim is to jump in. You’re going to have to learn to let go, Abi. You’re a planner, a controller, and that’s why IFRT did so well during your tenure. But this is different—you need to let Asher lead.”

  “I think he’s going to lead us to war,” Abi said under her breath.

  Rachel nodded. She had no love for war, but she didn’t think there was an alternative, not this time. The King and Noah had been slain, and the Kingdom threatened. Asher had to retaliate.

  “Then we’ll get our guns and stand beside him,” Rachel said.

  Reed

  “James,” Reed said, answering his phone as he strode toward the King’s office. He’d memorized the palace floor plan on the flight to Santina—no small feat.

  “You arrived just in time,” James said.

  “Tell me about it. It was a good call to head straight there,” Reed said. James Thomas was one of the best strategists in the world, and every criminal knew it—that’s why they feared him. “How’s the interrogation going?”

  “Slow. They’re not talking yet, and they’re out now. Hopefully they’ll be feeling chatty when they wake up,” James said. “Asher’s ready to see you. Please do call him Asher, by the way. He doesn’t want to be addressed as King Asher or His Majesty by us or anyone else. Jesse said he’s never used titles with those close to him.”

  Because he doesn’t have an ego, Reed noted.

  “Copy,” Reed said.

  “Once you’re done with Asher, I’m going to send you an address. I want you to check it out tonight. Take two teams. Be careful,” James said.

  “What am I looking for?” Reed asked.

  “It’s who you’re looking for: Colonel Stevens,” James responded. “I don’t think they’ve moved him out of Santina yet, and I want to find him—dead or alive—before they do. Samuel has an address. It’s a long shot, but at this stage it’s all we have.”

  “Do you think he’s alive?” Reed asked under his breath.

  “I think we have about twenty-four hours to find him or we never will,” James said, his voice urgent. “Samuel will send you the details once you’re done with your meeting.”

  Reed refocused his mind. Right now he had a meeting with the king.

  He entered the office that adjoined King Asher’s office. Jesse was stationed by the door. “Reed,” he said, remembering him from their very brief introduction earlier that day. “Asher is ready for you.”

  Reed nodded. “Thanks,” he said before entering.

  Asher looked up when Reed walked in, closing the door behind him.

  Reed knew his age, and he’d seen many photos of Asher. But for some reason, seeing him at a desk that was clearly designed for a king was startling. He seemed too young, the role too heavy a burden.

  But who was Reed to judge? Besides, he always loved seeing the underdog win.

  “Asher, my name is Reed. I arrived earlier today and will be working closely with Jesse,” Reed said, even though Asher already knew this.

  “Thank you for coming. Please take a seat,” Asher said, gesturing to the velvet seat opposite him.

  Reed sat on the chair, immediately feeling uncomfortable. He never thought he’d walk inside a palace, let alone take a seat opposite a king. In fact, Reed had never thought he’d be so much as invited inside a palace. Reed had a temper, one that had almost ruined his life until he’d learned how to channel that anger. At sixteen, he’d started boxing, MMA, and he’d been good, really good. He was the best fighter on Thomas Security payroll—even James Thomas had never been able to beat him. Now all he needed to do was learn to control his mouth, Reed thought wryly, because he had an uncanny tendency to tell people to fuck off.

  “James tells me you’re in charge of the teams here,” Asher said, his eyes narrow but not sharp.

  “Correct. I’ll be supervising them along with Jesse. Jesse is still in charge, but I’ll make sure things run smoothly,” Reed said.

  Asher studied his eyes like he was looking for something. “And James will ask you to do things that he doesn’t want Jesse to know about, right?”

  Reed refrained from smiling. King Asher was no fool. “We do what needs to be done. Sometimes that involves testing people and sometimes that involves hard truths. But regardless, we do what is right, and what is needed—not what is easy.”

  Asher clasped his hands together, leaning forward slightly. “Tell me what you think about Colonel Stevens’s kidnapping.”

  “I think the colonel was hiding something, with good intentions or not, and we’ll know what that was shortly,” Reed said.

  Asher raised an eyebrow. “How is that?”

  Reed was glad he’d asked. “We have a lead on an address where we think he’s being held. I’ll be heading there once I leave your office,” Reed said, keeping his voice low. There was a risk that Thomas Security weren’t the only ones who’d planted cameras in the palace. They’d done a sweep when the teams had arrived, but as the group had learned the hard way, some devices were very difficult to detect and could move consta
ntly.

  Asher studied him a moment. “I won’t take up any more of your time,” he said.

  Reed stood, nodding. “Thank you. I’ll keep you updated.”

  He turned to leave and as he did he noticed something on Asher’s desk. He paused. “Where did you get that?” Reed asked, watching Asher carefully.

  Asher frowned. “Get what?”

  Reed pointed to the phone on his desk and then put a finger over his lips. Asher’s eyebrows wove together.

  “The pen,” Reed said. “That’s a very nice pen. And very expensive.”

  “It was a gift,” Asher said without missing a beat.

  Reed picked up the cell phone that had caught his attention. Reed knew Asher would’ve been given a Thomas Security phone, but the phone on his desk was different. All of their phones were marked with an “X,” but this phone wasn’t. Reed wouldn’t have noticed except that the phone had been positioned screen down and the light cast by Asher’s desk lamp made the back surface look like a glassy lake. It definitely wasn’t marked in the same way. He ran his finger over the surface, but the phone didn’t have a scratch.

  It was new. Too new.

  Reed grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and wrote, Your phone has been switched. Don’t say a word until I return. Don’t touch the phone.

  “Very nice,” Reed said. “I might have to get myself one of those. I’d better get going. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Thank you. Keep me posted,” Asher said, watching him carefully.

  Reed called Samuel the minute he was out of the office and away from potential listening ears.

  “Samuel, we have a problem. Asher’s phone has been switched—he’s not using one of ours.”

  “What?” Samuel asked quickly. “I’m monitoring the feed. He’s using our phone.”

  “Well, the phone on his desk doesn’t have the Thomas Security mark,” Reed insisted.

  “That’s impossible,” Samuel said, but the conviction in his voice faded with each syllable. “I need you to get me that phone. I’ll loop some sound footage into our system so anyone listening doesn’t suspect that we know.”

  “Okay. But I also just told him about Colonel Stevens,” Reed said.

  “One thing at a time,” Samuel said, his voice calm. Reed could hear his fingers tapping on his keyboard. “Okay, footage is linked. Grab that phone, go to your room, then call me.”

  “Copy,” Reed said, turning on his heels.

  He walked back to the office and gave Jesse an apologetic nod. “Sorry, I forgot something.”

  Jesse knocked and then opened the door. Asher threw a wary look his way. Reed closed the door behind him quietly and brought his fingers to his lip again. Reed didn’t know who was listening or how they were listening, and he wasn’t prepared to take any chances.

  He picked up the phone, slipped it into his pocket and left again.

  Reed watched everything and everyone on the walk back to his new living quarters but no one was paying him much attention. In his bedroom he messaged Samuel: I have it.

  Take the SIM card out and put it in your eDisk.

  Reed pulled out the slimline kit he always carried in his back pocket. He pulled out the pin and ejected the SIM card and then slid it into the eDisk—a thin piece of plastic that was one of Samuel’s inventions.

  Reed’s phone rang.

  “Samuel,” he said, answering the call.

  “Okay, I’ve looped in this phone too, so the people on the other end don’t know we know. I’ve traced it back to an address I’m sending to your phone now. James is in the office with me and he wants you to go straight there. In the meantime, we’ll work out who switched Asher’s phone, because it could only have been someone close to him.”

  “Copy,” Reed said. “What do you want me to do with the phone?”

  “Put it in the bathroom cabinet and leave it there until instructed otherwise,” Samuel said as Reed’s phone beeped, indicating a message had arrived. He looked at the address and then clicked on the map icon. It was a twenty-minute drive at most.

  “I’m on it,” Reed said, grabbing a full kit. He threw it over his shoulder and headed for the garage.

  He passed Jesse again in the hallway.

  “Going somewhere?” Jesse asked, clearly not missing Reed’s pace.

  “I’ll be back in ten,” Reed said vaguely. Ten hours, perhaps, but definitely not in ten minutes.

  Jesse gave a disapproving nod. He didn’t like being kept in the dark, and Reed didn’t blame him. Jesse had been running security for years and now the dynamics were changing. But Jesse had requested their help and this was how they worked. It had always amused Reed that most of Thomas Security clients didn’t like working with them—they hated the lack of control and briefings—but they knew Thomas Security got the job done, and so they dealt with it. Smart people do.

  Reed felt eyes on his back, but he kept walking.

  Asher’s phone had been switched, and Jesse was the prime suspect.

  Asher

  Asher looked over the financial reports, massaging his neck as he did. A large payment had been received from the Adani government yesterday as per the aid deal Asher had brokered, but today it felt like blood money.

  A knock at the door pulled his attention and William Bennett entered. “May I?” he asked.

  Asher nodded. “Please take a seat,” he said.

  William sat opposite Asher with his hands clasped in his lap. He sighed. “I told Abi,” he said, sounding drained.

  “What did she say?” Asher asked gently.

  He gave a weak smile. “What you said she would,” he said. “I’ve carried that burden for so many years, always afraid my family would find out and hate me for it. If I’d known how good it would feel to be rid of my shame, I would’ve done it many years earlier. I have you to thank for that, Asher, because if you hadn’t made the deal with your father and we hadn’t had that conversation, I don’t think I would ever have told Abi in particular. She has such high expectations of this world and everyone in it; I didn’t want to disappoint her.”

  “Abi has a good heart and she was always going to forgive you,” Asher said without hesitation.

  William Bennett’s eyes dropped to the file in Asher’s hand.

  “Financial reports,” Asher said, pushing them aside.

  William Bennett met his gaze. “How much are you short?”

  Asher bit his lip. “Well, if I count Adani’s aid payment, we’ll break even this quarter.”

  “But you don’t want to take it, do you?” William asked.

  “I feel like I’m betraying my father by accepting it. And I’m also letting him down by not accepting it.” Asher rubbed his tired eyes.

  “How much is it?” William asked slowly.

  “Two hundred million,” Asher answered, eyeing the man. Asher had asked him if he would provide for Santina if Adani withdrew their support. But Adani hadn’t—Asher just didn’t want to take their money. Money wielded power, and the last thing Asher wanted or needed right now was Adani having any power over Santina.

  “Send it back, then,” he said like it was the simplest thing in the world. “I’ll give you four hundred million—two hundred this quarter and two hundred the next. In the meantime, we’ll work on strengthening your international ties, and you can build aid deals that way. Despite our feud, I truly thought your father was a great king, but I always thought he should’ve bolstered international ties, especially with America. Santina has been too reliant on our region for too long. I know you receive international aid, but the majority of it comes from our region. That needs to change.”

  “I agree,” Asher said. Their region was important, but if Santina was going to survive, he needed to expand relations.

  “Look, I can’t teach you how to be king, but I can teach you how to be a good businessman, and how to become wealthy. Money doesn’t buy happiness, but it sure does solve a lot of problems. And it gives you options—options like telling Ad
ani to fuck off.”

  Asher smirked. “That would be nice.” He paused then, regarding the older man frankly. “Are you doing this for Abi?”

  William nodded. “Of course. If she’s in this with you, I want her to succeed. But it’s more than that—Santina is my home, and I want my home to flourish. If I could see Santina built into a powerful, wealthy kingdom in my lifetime and know I played some small part in that, it would make me very happy. I’ve conquered much in business and in all honesty, I’ve been a little bored lately. This would be a challenge, and I love a good challenge,” he said with a smile.

  “It’s going to be one,” Asher said, but he felt infinitely more confident now than he had ten minutes ago.

  “Challenge builds character,” he said, like it was a saying he told himself every day.

  “Is that written on your mirror?” Asher asked with a cheeky grin.

  William chuckled. “It might as well be. My father made all his children repeat it every morning over breakfast.”

  Asher smiled. “How many siblings do you have?” He thought William Bennett had two sisters, but he wasn’t entirely sure.

  “I have two younger sisters and a brother, but he passed away some time ago,” he said, his eyes seeming far away.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Asher said.

  William nodded. “He fell from a horse and broke his back. It was tragic, and such a waste.”

  Asher nodded. He couldn’t imagine it, but he could sympathize with William’s grief—it was like a phantom that always seemed to loom nearby.

  Asher’s phone rang and he answered it.

  “It’s James. Keep Bennett talking—ask as many questions as you can.”

  “Thank you,” Asher said before ending the call.

  “Apologies for the interruption,” Asher said, and William nodded. “What do your sisters do?” he asked. He was interested, and he was fulfilling James’s request.

  “One is a lawyer—she comes in handy,” he joked. “And one is a cardiac surgeon—hopefully I’ll never need her services.”

  Asher smiled. “All high achievers, then. Perhaps we should tell all Santinian fathers to make their children repeat your father’s motto over breakfast.”