Men in the villages were often murdered, and those who weren’t were rarely taken hostage. The ones who were captured were cared for by other hostage retrieval teams—but there were more women and children taken than the other organizations could handle.
Women and children could be sold, and therefore they were seen as a commodity. They were almost always taken hostage and subjected to rape and abuse on a daily basis, and Abi would not stand by and do nothing. If that meant betraying her father by partnering with his enemy’s son, so be it. She loved her father dearly, but her father’s feud with the King was none of her business. She didn’t even know what it was about. As far as she knew, no one did except the two men and, likely, their wives.
The couples—the King and Queen, and Abi’s parents—had at one point been best friends. They’d vacationed together, spent Christmases and birthdays together. From what Abi had been able to deduct over the years, it appeared their friendship had ended overnight, and they hadn’t spoken a word to one another since. Abi had once asked her father about it, but he’d replied it was a matter never to be spoken of in a voice that made clear she should never bring it up again.
Would her father forgive her for meeting with Prince Asher?
And if he found out, would he cut her from the family trust—a trust that funded IFRT?
Abi and Rachel sat at their desks in the underground office Abi had secured as their headquarters. It was dark and dingy, but that was by choice—it was cheap. Every spare dollar they had was dedicated to rescue operations. They could hardly sit in a plush office and not have the money to rescue the very women and children they were trying to save.
During war, money talked. Money bought freedom.
Abi’s eyes darted to the door when it swung open. Jacob walked in with seven of their team—there were ten members, including Abi and Rachel. It was a small group, but so far they’d proven themselves to be motivated, ambitious people who could change the world one tiny step at a time.
“Abi, Rachel,” Jacob said as he dragged a chair next to hers.
“Are they coming?” Rachel asked, not missing a beat.
Jacob looked between the two women. “They left the palace ten minutes ago.”
Abi’s chest constricted. She had such mixed emotions about this meeting, but she had to put her personal concerns aside. Her father’s wrath would be nothing compared to the violent, daily rape and abuse the kidnapped women and children were suffering. If her father didn’t understand that and couldn’t get past it, he didn’t understand Abi at all.
He had raised her to think for herself, true, but Abi knew this wasn’t what her father had in mind—and although she knew her father cutting off funds was a possibility, she truly thought him a better man than that.
“Are you sure they’re coming with good intentions?” Abi asked. “A lot is at risk by discussing our mission and operations with Prince Asher.”
“Noah promised me they want to help. The royal family knows this is an issue, but politically their hands are tied. However, Asher can increase our contacts and provide money if we ever need it. You know as well as I do we need his contacts. Border controls are becoming increasingly problematic, and we can’t move fast when we need to.”
Abi nodded. They did need him, and that was the sole reason she had agreed to the meeting tonight.
They had actually been scheduled to meet one month ago, but Prince Asher had canceled, citing other commitments, and had delayed recommitting. Abi didn’t know what to think about that, but she supposed she would find out sooner rather than later.
“Okay,” Abi said to the group. “Let’s turn on the computers and presentation material. Let’s not waste the prince’s time while he’s here.” Abi wondered if he would even stay for the entire meeting.
The group sprung into action, moving chairs into a circle while Rachel and Abi made sure the projector was working correctly and they could see the photographs—the same images that had made Abi’s stomach churn earlier.
Her fingertips tingled. She was nervous for a multitude of reasons. Her father might not be the only one pissed off when her true identity was revealed.
Abi checked the images and statistics again, losing herself in her work. She lost track of time.
Then her heart lurched in her throat as she looked up to see Prince Asher striding toward her.
His gaze traveled over her. She released the breath she’d been holding when he showed no signs of recognizing her. And why would he? She had never enjoyed the fame that came with being a Bennett, and now IFRT made it dangerous for Abi to be linked to such a wealthy family.
William Bennett had been heralded as the most successful businessman in Santina, even the entire region, and was responsible for a substantial portion of its economic growth. He also gave generously to the people of Santina, and although he was not a royal, he was treated as royalty wherever he went.
That attention wasn’t good for IFRT, however, and it made Abi—and her entire family—a target for kidnapping. So her father allowed her to be the forgotten daughter. Everyone thought she was studying abroad, but she lived in a small apartment in Santina’s capital city, Patmos, and spent almost every dollar of her trust fund on IFRT. Her parents were still alive, but upon turning twenty-one, Abi had inherited a portion of her billion-dollar trust. At the turn of every decade, she would inherit more—and she planned to continue donating every dollar to the women who had no one to save them.
“Prince Asher,” she said, “I’m Abi.”
He extended his hand. “Please, call me Asher,” he said with a voice that was both smooth and masculine. He had an air about him that demanded authority, but he didn’t appear arrogant. Time will tell, she thought darkly.
Abi nodded, remaining impassive. “Thank you for coming tonight.”
Asher nodded, his eyes locking on hers. His eyes were a rich, chocolate brown; they teamed with his angled jawline and styled brown hair to make a tantalizing combination. “I think what you’re doing is incredibly brave . . . if a little crazy.”
She almost cursed as her cheeks warmed, grateful for the darkened room. “Let’s see what you think after the presentation,” Abi said smoothly, noting he was still holding her hand. She cleared her throat, and he took a step backward before dropping her hand—but his eyes lingered.
Abi moved toward her chair next to the projector.
“Thank you for making the effort to come tonight. The work we do is important, and nothing highlights that more than the news we received today,” she said, the words threatening to catch in her throat. “Today, we received reports that twenty-four hours ago a small village, only three hundred miles from our western border, was attacked by JISO terrorists. Six women and eleven girls were taken to a location one hundred miles away, and an informant has been able to supply us with these images.”
All eyes were on the screen.
She clicked the mouse button, projecting the images one after the other. Abi watched Asher closely. His eyes widened, then softened, and he seemed to take a calming breath. It was the reaction she’d been hoping for: the reaction of someone who cared.
She clicked the mouse again and again until she’d shown the full set of images.
“We have a team nearby. They’re scoping the location and planning the hostage-retrieval mission,” Abi said.
Asher’s eyes landed on hers. “If they move that quickly, won’t your informant be jeopardized? At the very minimum, the group will know there’s an informant in their camp.”
“If we don’t move that quickly, these women will be brutalized beyond their will to live. Additionally, the women are only held together for a short period before being separated—they’re either sold or given as gifts to powerful men. When that happens, they are invariably never found again. The informant will leave with the women to ensure their own safety.”
Asher looked thoughtful for a moment. “How long does it take to get an informant inside a camp like this?”
> “Years,” Abi said, revealing their biggest problem.
“And what happens when there are no informants left? How will you get intelligence?” Asher asked.
“We are constantly training and planting informants, but it’s a long-term problem we are still working on a viable solution for,” Abi responded. “But we can’t wait for next year, or the year after to rescue these women and children. They won’t survive. We work on a case-by-case basis and deal with each problem as it arises. Is it short-sighted to blow the cover of our informants? Yes. But at this stage, with limited connections, we don’t have a choice. We’re doing what we can.”
Asher’s gaze returned to the screen.
Abi looked over the team, but everyone was watching Asher.
“You can’t rely on informants,” he said. “You need ground staff in neighboring countries. Civilians talk when they’re motivated to.”
Abi showed her cards. “We have some, but we need to increase these connections. And I’m already bribing everyone I can,” she admitted, and almost laughed with relief when a small smile graced Asher’s lips.
“So I’ve heard,” he said with a smirk.
The first elephant in the room had been addressed.
He turned to Abi, serious once more. “Let me think about this. I want to help you, but I need to make sure I don’t jeopardize your entire group by getting involved. My involvement will not come without risk. I can increase your connections, but if word gets around about that, you might be worse off. I also risk political retaliation against Santina. On more than one occasion we’ve been accused of using groups like IFRT to spy on our neighbors, and my being here will not help that impression.”
He turned to the group, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly. “Additionally, I’m aware these rescue missions are extremely high risk. Civilians who provide information, or are working in the houses the hostages are taken to are sometimes accidentally killed—I’m well aware of that fact—and killing innocent civilians of our neighbors could have severe consequences for Santina.”
“Those civilians who provide information are given additional resources and compensation. We take good care of them,” Abi said defensively.
“I know,” Asher said quickly, turning back to look at her. “I’m not criticizing you—but these are the things I have to consider as a member of the royal family.” He shook his head. “Regardless of those facts, I’m aware not enough is being done to help those who are taken. Some say it’s not our responsibility, but as our neighbors continue to destabilize, the more that destabilization impacts us. For Santina to truly prosper, our region needs to prosper.”
His expression softened. “So, all things considered, I want to help. I think the benefits outweigh the potential consequences, as long as IFRT continues to operate mostly under the radar. I need to think about the best way of helping you without complicating things for either of us.”
“Thank you,” she said, his eyes capturing hers.
There was silence for a moment, and she found herself struggling to look away.
Rachel glanced between the two of them, her face inscrutable, then came to her rescue. “In the meantime, I have an update on Hallie and Scarlett,” she broke in. “They are ten and thirteen, respectively, and were rescued from a terrorist camp six months ago. Hallie had been brutally raped and abused to the point she shut down, refusing to talk to anyone. Scarlett was barely doing better. They have been reunited with their families, and our counselors have been by their sides as they work with the girls to free them of the shame associated with rape in our culture. Their families are being taught how to accept them and help them rebuild their lives. It will be a long process, but I’m happy to report that yesterday Hallie spoke her first words since she was taken hostage, and our counselor says she’s hopeful Hallie will continue to open up. With continued therapy, and the love and protection of her family, we believe eventually Hallie will be able to live a normal life.”
The group clapped and smiles lit up their faces. It might seem like a small win—one girl amongst thousands who had been kidnapped over the past twelve months—but one life saved was a success for IFRT.
If Abi were ever taken hostage, she hoped someone would care enough about one girl to come for her. She planned to do the same for every girl she could.
“Where are Hallie and Scarlett now?” Asher asked.
“We house them in apartments in Patmos,” Abi said vaguely. The victims were put into programs similar to a witness-protection program, and Abi wasn’t about to reveal any of those details. Not yet. Prince Asher had to earn that trust. “We give them everything we can to make them comfortable and the tools they need to rebuild their lives.”
Asher nodded, but Abi couldn’t read the look in his eyes.
The meeting continued as they discussed other cases and their objectives for the next few weeks. Abi refrained from looking at Asher any more than she looked at each of her team members, but she felt his eyes on her, making her feel warm in a room that was undoubtedly cold.
When the meeting was over, the team stood and moved their chairs behind the desks. Asher did the same, demonstrating he was willing to do as others did regardless of his royal title. It showed a lack of an overinflated ego, and Abi liked that.
Asher spoke quietly with members of the team, and Abi yearned to know what they were discussing, but she couldn’t hear a thing. She deleted the files and shut down the computers before sliding the USB into her purse.
“What do you think of our prince?” Rachel asked, startling her from behind.
“He seems genuinely interested, which is a good thing,” Abi said.
Rachel gave her an odd look, then nodded. “I have to go. I’ll call you in the morning.”
Abi hugged her friend goodbye then took the empty coffee mugs to the kitchen while the lingering members talked amongst themselves.
“Can I help?”
Abi spun on her heel, not expecting Asher to be standing so close.
“Sorry!” she said, almost falling backward.
He shot out a hand to steady her. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.
She shook her head dismissively. “I’m a little distracted. These cases . . . get to me.”
He tilted his head to the side, studying her. “And yet you continue to do this.”
“I love doing it,” she replied honestly. “I had a good childhood and come from a fortunate family, so I think it’s a responsibility to give back.”
Asher nodded. “I know a thing or two about that.” He looked over his shoulder. “What are you doing now?” he asked, returning his attention to Abi. “I have a few more questions.”
“Sure. Do you like red wine? I have a couple glasses here somewhere . . .” Her voice trailed off as she tried to remember where they were kept. A quick search of the overhead cabinets revealed where they were hiding.
“I’d love a glass. Let me say goodbye to Noah and I’ll be back,” he said, before turning away.
Abi watched him walk, his crisp white shirt perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders.
Abi shook her head in disgust. Now she was drooling over the prince?
“Abi?”
Startled for the second time in as many minutes, she turned to face Noah. “Thank you for inviting us,” he said. “I know you were concerned about extending the invitation, and I’m thankful you agreed to let us come tonight. Asher is right about his involvement having its risks, but I agree that the payoff could outweigh those dangers.” Noah glanced at Asher. “I’m going to head off now, but I’ll speak to Asher tomorrow and keep in touch with Jacob and Rachel. If there’s ever anything I can do to help, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you,” Abi said, and she meant it. “I really appreciate that.”
Noah tapped Asher’s arm in a brotherly manner before he left. He quickly said goodbye to Rachel, but Abi noticed he didn’t linger. Rachel pretended she didn’t care, but Abi knew the breakup was still
raw—for her, at least.
Jacob turned to wave at Abi, and he left with Rachel, leaving Abi alone with Asher.
“Wine,” she said quickly, retrieving two glasses and finding a bottle in the cupboard. They always stored wine in the office—sometimes they needed a drink when they received heartbreaking news, and sometimes they needed it to entertain important guests. Tonight, both were compelling reasons. Abi knew it wasn’t necessarily a good way of dealing with stress, but sometimes the images and news reports they received were so harrowing they shared a bottle of red to drown their sorrows for a few minutes—but never any longer than that.
From the corner of her eye, Abi saw Asher leaning against the bench top, watching her.
“How long have you led IFRT?” he asked in his trademark smooth voice.
“Six years,” Abi responded as she concentrated on pouring the wine without spilling it. She wondered if Asher could see her trembling hand.
Why was her hand trembling?
She didn’t care that she was alone with a prince—but there was something about him that made her nervous.
“Noah told me the previous leader was . . .” his voice trailed off.
“Yes, she was murdered,” Abi said, not dancing around it. Abi was known for being blunt, and people respected her for that. “She went on a mission to provide administrative access and was shot dead when they encountered trouble.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Asher said softly. “Were you close?”
Abi paused. “Yes. I wanted to continue her work, so I grew IFRT to what it is today,” she continued, angry at the tears that welled in her eyes even now.
She looked away—but, as it always seemed to, she felt the prince’s gaze following her.
Asher
Asher studied her as she battled to hide her emotions. Did she think it would make her look weak? Or didn’t she know him well enough to let her guard down? He hoped it was the latter, because unlike some who thought it was a mistake to show their true emotions, Asher thought it was brave. Too many people put on a perfect face to the world, but he’d rather see the real person—raw and unfiltered. He supposed that was because he’d spent most of his life around impassive, stoic faces. Asher found it boring.
Blood, Love and Lies Page 2
