Page 63 of The Last Strike

Khalil shook his head as he put his weapon down on his desk. “Call for cleaning.”

He watched as his son jumped up, reaching for the telephone. Nicholas needed to learn that mistakes as grave as that one could not be tolerated.

Khalil pressed a finger to his temple. His heart raced, not because of the dead man on the floor, but because Asher was seizing control, taking it away from him. It had to stop by any means necessary.

There was nothing Khalil could dig up on Asher—or King Martin, for that matter. They were as clean as they came, monuments of integrity. Khalil scoffed. No, he couldn’t play Asher’s game. He had to play his own: a game that had served him well during his reigning years.

Khalil sat at his desk, watching Nicholas make the telephone call then go to Raoul’s side, checking his pulse. He shook his head softly and Khalil knew he was gone.

Let it be a lesson.

Khalil’s eyes dropped to his ringing phone and he welcomed the distraction. He was not, however, prepared for who was calling.

He stilled, then drew a calming breath.

“King Asher, this is a surprise,” Khalil said casually. Nicholas’s head snapped in his direction.

“Isn’t it,” Asher said, deadpan.

Khalil’s mind reeled with possibilities of why Asher was calling, but he came up with nothing. And Asher didn’t seem thrilled to be on the other end—that was very evident by the tone of his voice.

“So, tell me why you’re calling, Asher,” Khalil said, his eyes narrowing.

“I am hosting a council meeting with the neighboring kingdoms,” Asher said, and Khalil’s eyebrows lifted. “I would like not to invite you, but the general consensus is that you should attend. It will be held in Santina. I will email you the details,” he said, sounding pained.

Khalil laughed. “You think I would attend a meeting in Santina, in the middle of a war?”

“Actually, I’m hoping you will not. I have nothing to say to you that has not already been said. As far as I’m concerned, when I take Adani, your opinion on regional matters will not concern us,” Asher said.

Khalil’s mouth all but dropped open at Asher’s brazen claims. His blood boiled. He had never been treated with so much disrespect in his life, much less by a neighboring ruler.

“There is no regional ‘council,’ Asher. We operate individually, if you are not aware of that,” he said, mockingly.

“There is no council you areawareof, Khalil,” Asher clarified haughtily. “The rest of us want to see the kingdoms flourish—all of them. Like I said, I do not expect you to attend, but I will email you the details out of courtesy. Goodbye, Khalil.”

The call ended abruptly and Khalil was left with his mouth hanging open.

Was there really a meeting? A council?

If there was, Adani should be leading this—not Asher, not Santina!

He called the one person who would definitely know about this.

“Khalil,” Luang answered, sounding almost as surprised as Khalil had been by Asher’s call.

“I hear there is a council meeting to be held in Santina,” Khalil said.

When Luang didn’t immediately respond, Khalil knew Asher had been speaking the truth. “How many meetings have there been, Luang?” Khalil asked, lowering his voice.

“What do you want, Khalil?” Luang asked, sounding tired.

“I want to know how many meetings, who attended, and what was discussed,” Khalil said. If they’d been plotting with Asher to take Adani, he was going to destroy them all.

“I don’t know,” Luang said.

“If you lie to me, Luang, there will be consequences,” Khalil said, his voice tight.

Khalil thought he could hear Luang’s teeth grinding through the phone. “I don’t know who is attending this meeting, but I can say that Asher, myself, and Queen Victoria will be attending. The rest are yet to be confirmed, I think,” he said.

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