Her Name Is Knight(Nena Knight #1)(86)

Nena nodded. “And he is Paul.”

Elin wasn’t buying it, the way she glowered at Nena. She held up a calming hand. “Nena, let’s think this through. I know Attah Walrus brought up a lot of past feelings. And then learning of Kwabena, but there was nothing on Paul. Attah and Kwabena had intel. Lucien’s intel has only been on the up-and-up. He went through the vetting process. We would have recognized him.”

“How, when he had no photos? No one knows what he looks like except his old soldiers, who were dispatched when the Tribe raided the Compound, and any survivors who were there. Me. His face is something I could never forget.”

Nena watched as Elin, their mum’s spitting image, vacillated between doubt and the belief she’d always had in Nena. Nena had never lied or overreacted, and yet today she was asking Elin for more than she was willing—ready—to give.

“Okay.” Elin looked up at the ceiling, no doubt thinking of a million contingencies. “You killed Kwabena, and when Paul, whoever he is, found out, he’d retaliate.”

Nena took a sip of her water. “He did. He had Dad poisoned, Elin.”

Elin was incredulous. “This is too much, Nena.”

“Honest to God. Paul called me when I was at the hospital. He admitted it.”

Elin thumped the table. “I thought we were a team, Nena. It’s been over a week since Dad. And what about Mum? And if Lucien is who you say he is, he’s been sniffing round her ‘for moral support,’ he says.” Elin cast a doubtful look. “Are you sure, Nena? No bullshit.”

“None.”

“Let’s say you’re right,” Elin proposed.

Nena nodded with great difficulty. Meeting Elin’s withering gaze was unbearable, and even more so was the disappointment radiating from her.

“But attacking Dad now, when Lucien’s barely at the table two minutes? You should have said something. That night. That very night you saw him, you should have said something to us. Instead, you go off half-cocked on a revenge tirade and make a bigger problem.”

Nena shook her head emphatically. “You don’t know him like I do. This is what he does. Infiltrate, ambush, bulldoze, take what he wants with no regard for anyone else. If I had told you that night—”

“Then Dad wouldn’t be recovering today.”

Nena dropped her head. Elin was right. But Nena was right too. “No, Dad wouldn’t be recovering today. Because he’d be dead, Elin, you understand me?”

“Nena—”

Nena cut in. “There is no winning against him until I give him what he wants, make him comfortable. Then get him when I am positive you, Mum, and Dad are safe. And the Baxters.”

Dumbfounded, Elin asked, “What is it Paul wants?”

Nena sighed. The hard part still wasn’t over yet. “He wants Dad’s seat. He can’t stand for any man to have better than him. That’s why he hated my papa. A seat at the Council table isn’t enough for Paul, so the head of the table is what he wants. High Council, Dad’s seat.”

Elin flounced back in her seat. “Bloody hell that would ever happen. There’s no way the Council would ever allow him to ascend to Dad’s seat.”

“And yet here he is, after hiding for over fifteen years, within reach of the High Council seat.”

Elin assessed her coolly, her lips pursed. Nena knew it was a low blow. None of this was Elin’s fault, and Nena couldn’t let her resentment at the Tribe’s failures rest on her sister’s shoulders.

Elin scoffed. “I mean, the man is a major douchebag opportunist, yeah, but he’s not some indestructible supervillain, Nena.” She took a long swallow of her wine, then held up a hand. “Still assuming you’re correct about Lucien-slash-Paul here, what are you getting at with the cigar your federal friend found at his home? You’re saying Lucien—Paul—put it there?”

“He likely had an emissary do it. He always uses others to do his bidding.” Who knew Paul better than she?

It was now or never. Nena tried to control her breathing, knowing this would be the straw that broke the camel’s back. “That emissary learned of the Baxters and told him about them. And that someone planted Paul’s cigar knowing I’d get the message.”

“What are you playing at, Nena?”

“Oliver is working with Paul and planted the cigar.”

Elin inhaled. “And when the fuck”—she said it so sharply Nena flinched—“would Oliver have done that?”

Nena shrugged. “I don’t know. But Oliver knows where they live. He saw me there and knows the Baxters are important to me.”

“Bullshit. He never went inside.” Elin’s dismay was so palpable Nena felt she could reach out and touch it. She looked at Nena with such hurt and betrayal it nearly broke Nena, and she almost took back everything she’d said. Nena forced herself to continue, despite Elin’s eyes begging her to stop.

“This is complete bullshit, Nena. You’re complete bullshit for even thinking Oliver has anything to do with whatever Paul’s got going on.” She downed the rest of her wine, watching Nena from across the table. Nena couldn’t read her, couldn’t tell if Elin even believed Lucien was Paul.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, Nena, you really don’t . . .” Elin trailed off, unable to look at her. She covered her mouth with her hand, shaking her head as Nena waited for her to say more.