Page 65 of The Last Strike

Asher grinned. “Have you ever seen a skyrise palace?”

“Times are changing, Asher,” James said, his voice vague as he looked up at the mosaic dome ceiling and the massive chandelier hanging in its center.

“Do you like it?” Asher asked.

James grinned. “I do, actually. I like it a lot.”

Asher chewed on his cheek, wondering if James’s reaction was odd or not.

“I’m happy with the arrangements,” James eventually said, drawing his eyes away from the chandelier. He walked to the armchair in front of the large wall mirror. “You’ll sit here. While in this room, you’ll need to stay in this three-square-foot grid for us to protect you properly.” He met Asher’s eyes. “So the less you move, the better.”

Asher nodded. “Understood.”

James inhaled, seeming to take one last assessing sweep of the room, and said, “Let’s go.”

Asher did his own sweep of the arched white walls and colorful tiled floors. The presidential meeting room was where his father had hosted dignitaries for years before he’d finished construction of his royal palace, and now Asher would do the same until he rebuilt the palace.

Asher was escorted to the basement and into the waiting car. He’d grown so used to the constant detours and stopping and changing cars that it no longer gave him anxiety. In fact it did the opposite—it made him feel safe.

“Hello, Asher,” the driver said, and Asher’s head snapped up, his eyebrows lifting.

“Deacon Thomas. Welcome back to Santina,” Asher said.

Asher met James’s gaze in the mirror. James nodded and Asher understood. He was bringing in every possible resource for the next few weeks.

He looked out the window. He couldn’t wait for the day when it was safe to walk the streets of Santina again. Asher would always have security, but he hoped he would not need this level of security for every remaining day of his life.

Soon, Santina. Soon we will be free of Adani. Soon we will prosper.

Deacon yawned, capturing his attention again, but it was James who spoke. “You just got to work and you’re already yawning,” he said playfully.

Deacon scoffed. “I have three kids, coming to work is a holiday. Those kids are driving me nuts!”

James chuckled and Asher observed them like they were a circus act. It was a rare glimpse of the brothers with their guards down.

Deacon looked in the mirror. “I don’t know what you’re smiling for. You just wait,” he said.

Asher chuckled. He liked Deacon; he was a warmer, softer version of his brother. He had a way of lightening the mood whereas James’s serious, brooding persona followed him everywhere. That aside, Asher had no doubt Deacon Thomas was just as lethal as his brother when he needed to be.

They pulled into a parking garage and Asher expected to swap cars, instead Reed slid into the back seat beside him.

“The boys are back in town,” Reed said, sounding like he was rehearsing lines for a Bad Boys movie.

Deacon chuckled but his eyes were serious when he looked in the mirror. “How are you holding up?”

“Great,” Reed said, like he truly was.

Asher looked him over, but he did actually appear to be well.

Returning his eyes to the mirror, he didn’t miss the smirk on Deacon’s lips.

He looked to Reed again, but he was checking his weapon, not paying any attention.

Asher felt like he was missing something, but he didn’t give it another thought. He had a meeting to pull off—a meeting that could change their entire future and end this war—and he needed to focus on that.

Asher’s phone vibrated and he saw a message from Abi:Meet me for dinner in the dining room.

Asher smiled and typed a response:I would love to.

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