Page 54 of The Last Strike

“Alistair would take power—he’s being continually briefed on matters from his hospital bed so he could step in if he has to. I know you think him a reckless drug addict, but I assure you he is not. He is clean and has changed more in the past few months than I ever thought possible. If I had not seen the transformation with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it, so I can’t blame you for not understanding. He is capable,” Asher said without doubt.

“Capable is one thing, but it is not enough,” Luang said. “They say leadership can be learned, and that’s true. But exceptional leaders, someone like you ... it’s inherent in them. You know the weight of this responsibility; you need to ask yourself, with the additional pressure, can Alistair still handle it? He has transformed now because you have taken all of the weight that was on his shoulders when he was crown prince.”

Asher nodded and realized everything Luang was saying could be absolutely true. Ultimately, however, it didn’t matter, because unless he broke royal tradition, there were no other heirs to the throne. His father and uncle were both deceased, and with Tristan gone, Alistair was the only one of age.

Unless he didn’t completely break tradition ... there was another option.

“Leave that with me to determine. Regardless, I must do this, Luang. Adani and Santina started this, and I cannot let you take the risk. I must do it.”

A moment passed. “As you say. We’d better sort out this plan of ours to minimize every possible risk.”

Asher nodded, pushing down the lump in his throat.

“First we must take away Khalil’s power,” Asher said. “Then we disable his assets. Once that is done, we can suggest he hand over sovereign control. He will have a choice at that point: he can live in prison on corruption and murder charges, or he can die. I do not care which he chooses.”

“He will not choose prison,” Luang said without hesitation. “So then comes the matter of Nicholas.”

“I’ve been thinking about him,” Asher said, recalling the conversation he’d had with Samuel a few days ago. “He will accompany his father, I am sure of it. We’ll kill two birds with one stone.”

Luang exhaled a long breath. “This is fraught with danger, Asher. And it all hinges on Khalil agreeing to the meeting.”

“So let’s dangle something in front of him so irresistible that he can’t refuse. Me—a chance to take a direct hit at me,” Asher said, grimacing as he heard Luang inhale sharply. The plan had always been to use Asher as bait—but only from afar. That would not be enticing enough, though. Khalil had to think Asher would be close enough for him to wrap his hands around his neck.

“Are you out of your mind? The plan was perilous enough before, and now you’re going to put yourself in a mouse trap and expect to walk out alive?” Luang asked, his voice full of disbelief.

“Exactly,” Asher said. It was Abi who had inspired him. Asher would use the same tactic Abi had used to lure in Lamberi.

“This is no good, Asher. Now I’m seriously concerned,” Luang said heavily.

“I know, but this can work. We have to do something so utterly surprising that Khalil won’t see it coming. The war could endure for years, but that was never our full plan. We knew from the start we had to be strategic, and I believe now is the time. Khalil is beginning to unravel, so let’s give him a little more time to lose his edge while we put the plan into motion. When all the pieces are in place, we’ll make our move.”

Luang was silent a moment. “Okay,” he said, resigned. “I will put things in motion, but if we don’t pull this off, Asher, we’ll both be dead.”

Asher nodded. “Move your pawns into place, King Luang. Set up your board. It is time.”

I’m coming for you, Khalil.

Abi

“Sixteenth August,” Asher said as he took a seat opposite her. His eyes darted to the painting behind her—a recent gift from her father.

Abi’s eyebrows lifted as she looked at her diary. “That’s exactly one week away.”

Asher nodded with a grin. “I’m aware of that, but it will be a simple wedding. What do we need time to organize, really?”

“And we’re going to broadcast it?” Abi asked.

“I want to film it, but hold off broadcasting it for a few weeks,” Asher said.

Abi tilted her head, watching him carefully. “Why would you hold off broadcasting it? You said a few days ago that a royal wedding would give the people hope.”

He leaned forward, taking her hands into his own. “We’re setting a trap for Khalil. I want to wait until that is done. It’s only a few more weeks—the broadcast can wait until then.”

Abi rolled her bottom lip through her teeth. “Okay, what is going on?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” Asher asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Do you really think I can’t tell you’re holding back on something?”

---