Page 49 of The Last Strike

“No,” James said without hesitation. “There are few people who can do what Samuel can do. If his lurking around in their systems is detected, it’s because he wants it to be.”

Asher chewed on his cheek. “Do you think this timing is coincidental with Abi and Samuel poking around the topic, then?”

James looked thoughtful a moment. “Honestly, I think he’s just trying to gain back some control you’ve taken from him. And provide a distraction.” He nodded. “I would say this is more of a distraction than anything, but the Adani people probably won’t like that you have infiltrated their kingdom with spies.”

Asher nodded, but he knew how to counter that. “I’m going to go on camera and give my approval for Grace’s death. I will tell them Grace was not a spy, but rather was involved in the murder of King Martin and Noah along with King Khalil, and I will not grieve her.”

Asher sighed, looking back down at the papers in his hands. “What do we do about the death toll?” he asked heavily, shuffling the papers. He couldn’t request more support, because Arinia and Valencia had higher death tolls than Santina, as they had a greater number of soldiers on the borders. There were no winners in war.

“Let them fight,” James said. “The commander is making good strategic decisions and they have gained a few inches on the border. The fighting must continue.”

Asher shook his head. All those deaths for a few inches. He hated himself, and he’d severely underestimated the toll this war would take on him emotionally. King Luang had tried to warn him after their meeting in Valencia, but it had just been words. Nothing could’ve prepared him, not for this.

Asher nodded, his eyes dropping to his wrist. “I’m going to eat lunch,” he said, his stomach churning at the idea of ingesting food.

He stood abruptly, almost knocking his chair over. He felt James’s worried eyes on him, but he refused to look. Asher was angry: angry at himself, angry at James for so casually telling him the fighting should continue. He understood the war had to continue—if they backed down now, they had to surrender and suffer forever under Adani’s reign—but he refused to talk about it so casually. They were talking about good men sacrificing their lives; they weren’t talking about the weather.

Asher strode from the office, flanked by his security team. He knew his anger was misdirected at James, but that didn’t make it any easier.

He went to his living quarters, needing a moment alone.

Security opened the door and he walked in, seeing Abi on the phone. She smiled at him, but even that wasn’t enough to ease his tight throat. His eyes dropped to her laptop and he recognized the database she had open. IFRT.

“Hey,” Abi said, walking toward him.

“What are you doing? Is that to do with Theodora’s video?” Asher asked, immediately regretting the tone of his voice.

She raised her eyebrows. “No, it’s not. I’m advising Rachel on IFRT business.”

“I thought you were done with IFRT business,” Asher said tightly.

Abi’s jaw jutted out. “I am done with leading them, but I am not done advising, nor will I ever be.”

Asher raised his eyebrows now. “Is that so?”

A voice in his mind told him to stop, to walk away—that this wasn’t about Abi, it wasn’t about IFRT. It was about the death toll the war had caused. But he couldn’t process that now, so it was easier to unleash his anger on this trivial matter. He knew he was doing it, he knew he was being an ass, but he couldn’t shut his mouth.

Abi glared at him. “What is wrong, Asher?”

“Everything is wrong!” he exclaimed, almost breathless. “People are dying! Every time I take a breath, something else is going wrong. And then I walk in here, to the one person I thought I could always count on, and this is what I have to deal with!” Asher was all but yelling.

“That’s unfair, Asher,” Abi said, her voice calm yet fierce. “Be careful of what you’re about to say, because you can’t take it back once it’s been said.”

Asher turned and walked away before he said something else he regretted.

“Asher—”

Her voice was cut off by the slamming door.

Asher

Asher stormed past security, headed for the gardens. He needed to breathe. Security was right behind him, and he found himself—for the first time in a long time—wishing he could be invisible. Wishing that he could escape his life.

In his mind he saw the numbers on the white piece of paper. Every step seemed to be an echo of the death toll. Hundreds lost, and they were only a few days in.

Asher hadn’t prepared himself for this. He hadn’t known he’d react like this. He hadn’t expected it to be so hard.

But what had he expected? No deaths? He ground his teeth against one another.

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