“Funny, you sound and act very much like Paul Frempong.”
“Careful, girl.”
“They don’t know anything about you.”
“Yet Kwabena is dead.”
She closed her eyes. She’d expected him to find out. She hadn’t expected him to go for her dad. Not when Paul was so new to the Council. It was a big play.
“Who’s next, Aninyeh, hmm? My child, Oliver? Me? Am I next on your revenge list? Because I know you cannot kill a Council member. You would risk harm to your family?”
She hated it when he used her name from before. He had no right. He’d ripped it from her as he had stripped away her humanity. Hearing him speak it made her knees weaken every time and notched another chink in her resolve. Maybe she should just give up and let him have whatever he wanted again. Maybe then he’d leave Dad and everyone she loved alone.
“Would you?” she countered, hoping her voice sounded strong and assured, a stark contrast to the unadulterated fear and doubt raging. “Because all I have to do is tell the Council and my parents who you really are, and the dispatch would be sanctioned before I finish speaking.”
He snorted. “You could,” he said. “But then your mother and your sister would suffer a similar fate as your dad. However, they might not be so lucky,” he told her. “Your father may well be on his way if you try me any further. This little illness of his is but a warning.”
“You hurt them, and I’ll kill Oliver.”
He laughed at her, a crass sound that chopped her down to nothing. That damn laughter. She hated how it sliced her with fear whenever she heard it. “You don’t kill innocents, love. That’s my job.”
She felt bile rise in the back of her throat.
She remained silent, a stinging behind her eyes. This couldn’t be happening again. She would die if she had to suffer another loss of that magnitude again. She would not survive it; of this she was sure.
“Or better yet, perhaps I rid myself of only your father, take Delphine as my wife. She’s still beautiful, you know. Aged like fine wine. And I assume complete control of not only the Council but your family as well.” He laughed as if he’d made an uproariously funny joke. “I’d be your father, Nena. What do you think of that? Irony at its fucking finest.”
Over her dead body would Paul ever be her father. Or assume High Council.
“You’ve played with me too much, girl, and it’s time I remind you of who you are dealing with. There will be no more of your temper tantrums.”
As if with the snap of fingers, Nena was fourteen again, taken back to her burning village: to the moment Papa lost his head, to the sweltering Hot Box, to the murderous Robach.
She swallowed hard. Willing herself to remain calm, to not let him know how deeply he’d wounded her. Tiny hairline cracks snaked through her usually placid demeanor. Paul was the only person who could make her feel all the fear and insecurity she’d felt as a young girl. He was the only person she truly feared because she knew the depths he would go to take from her again.
His point made, Paul disconnected the call.
54
BEFORE
“Noble, you’re mad,” Mum argues in a hushed whisper. “We should be teaching her the business like we’re doing with Elin. What you’re suggesting, it’s too much. Hasn’t she had enough violence in her life?”
It is late, and I should be asleep, but I woke up thirsty and came downstairs to get a drink. Mum and Dad’s bedroom door is open, and they speak freely, thinking they are alone. Candidly, about me. Part of me feels guilty about eavesdropping. The other part of me wants to know their true thoughts of me.
“Del, trust me on this. She won’t want to run books and make decisions on the corporate or moral levels about Council territories. She won’t want attention on her. You know this.”
“Yes, but—”
“But you heard her the other day. She wants her power back. She wants to feel safe and like she has a choice in what happens to her. She needs something physical to do, something concrete.”
“And assuming control with Elin when we step down isn’t concrete enough? She will help run this entire organization that you have built.”
“She won’t want to sit behind a desk and make deals and lead the business ventures. Those are for Elin to handle.” The volume of Dad’s voice never increases. He always remains calm. He always chooses his words carefully. “My fear is if we do not channel her rage, and believe me, she has it, it will manifest in self-destructive ways. She needs to release the demons she harbors inside.”