She had no time for intel on its layout or where in it they were holding Georgia. Nena had no idea what she was walking into and didn’t care. She’d walk into hell for Georgia.
“Come on, Nena,” Keigel argued. “You can’t run up in there solo. That’s suicide.”
Against Keigel’s better judgment, she wanted him waiting outside, near the car, and ready to leave the moment she freed Georgia. And Nena would free her, come hell or high water.
“I have to go alone if Georgia has any chance.” She looked at him, assessing if he was ready for this important job. “You good?”
“I’m good, but you better be coming out here with this kid.”
She grunted, not really answering, because that part she couldn’t guarantee. She left Keigel standing there to stare after her, hoping he’d be safe and that she’d read Paul correctly and he wanted this meeting to be only for a party of one, her.
Nena entered the great hall. It was quiet, devoid of any security detail. She didn’t focus on the lack of guards, deciding her guess Paul wanted no witnesses was correct. That way there would be no one to expose anything he planned to do to her.
She scanned her surroundings, her boots echoing in the sparsely furnished home. She strode through the archway, where the great hall split into a T. With a quick assessment, she could see the left was a hall with the kitchen at its end. The right led to the library. Ahead of her was a split-level staircase, where she spied Oliver descending. At the midpoint landing, he stopped and glowered down at her.
His father stood at the very top of the stairs, his hand wound tightly into Georgia’s hair. Paul wore an amused expression, quite the opposite of Oliver’s murderous one. Georgia’s expression was plain terrified. She gripped Paul’s hands to keep from having her hair ripped out.
Nena leveled her gaze once more at the immediate threat.
“Glad you could make it to our family reunion,” Paul said solicitously.
Family reunion. His words were blasphemous. “Just because your son married Elin doesn’t make you family,” she said.
Paul was giddy, laughing gregariously. “Haven’t figured it out yet?” He pointed a long finger at Oliver. “Has it been so long you don’t recognize your own brother when he stands before you?”
It was now Oliver’s turn to snap his head in shock toward his father, a move so sudden Nena was positive he got whiplash from it.
Nena’s eyes narrowed in on him. Ofori? She scowled, looking back up at Paul. It wasn’t possible. Ofori was dead. He’d died in N’nkakuwe.
“You’re senile, old man.” She scowled. “You killed Ofori years ago.”
“Or perhaps I didn’t.”
“Father?” Oliver asked, confused.
Paul narrowed his eyes. “What are you two, nineteen months apart? Nearly twins, but not quite so. And you really did not recognize each other?”
“I don’t understand.” Oliver’s confusion made him sound younger.
“Elin’s sister is yours. By blood, you fucking idiot. That is Aninyeh.”
Oliver reeled at his father’s words. He grabbed at the railing as if to support himself. “That’s not possible,” he said. “Surely you mean by marriage.”
Meanwhile Nena observed them, wary that this might be yet another of Paul’s tricks. She didn’t put it past him. She’d watched her family die. All of them—nearly all of them. She swallowed.
Ofori.
She’d only heard the shots fired. She’d never seen him die, not like she had with Papa and the twins.
“You said she died. You said the Frenchman killed her.”
“Well, apparently she’s a fucking cat with nine lives, dear son,” Paul sneered. “She killed Attah, Bena. I suppose she fancies herself getting revenge, am I right, Aninyeh?”
Oliver looked back and forth, between his father and her. “How can it be? How could we have not known for all these years that she’s alive?”
“Same as how she hasn’t known we lived. She got fucking lucky and made it through just fine.”
“I did,” Nena said coldly. But not just fine. Not unscathed.
“Perhaps, Father, perhaps you are unwell.”
Paul brought his hands to his face as if to keep himself calm. “Clearly, I picked the wrong child to mentor. Seems your little sister has the balls you’ve never quite grown. Maybe there’s time yet to trade you in for the model I really wanted.”
Even Nena felt the bite of Paul’s words. She watched Oliver wilt visibly beneath the intensity of Paul’s reaction. It was both moving and disgusting.