Serpent King's Bride: A Dark Mafia Romance Trilogy

“You said your father was in real estate!”

“He is,” Justin replied. “Real estate fraud, specifically…and some other stuff.”

Derek pinched the bridge of his nose. “Great,” he said. “Anything else I need to know? What about this place?”

“A safehouse,” I answered quickly, too quickly. I avoided his gaze, not wanting him to see the memories that place conjured up—memories of cold floors and colder hands, of desperation and defiance. How Nathan had almost snuffed out my life within these very walls.

As I thought of Nathan, though, I realized he should’ve been in contact a while ago…and that sent a tremor of icy dread shooting through me.

It didn’t matter what had happened here.

I loved him and I needed him to be okay.

I glanced at the battered phone in my hand, its screen a patchwork of cracks and smudges. The digital clock taunted me with each minute that slipped by; Nathan should have called hours ago. I could almost feel the weight of the sun pressing down on the safehouse, even through the heavy tint of the windows.

“Any word from my brother?” Derek’s voice cut through the silence, his eyes darting between Justin and me.

“Nothing yet,” I murmured, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. The tension knotted in my stomach, winding tighter with every unanswered question hanging in the air.

“Shouldn’t he have called by now?” Justin asked, his tone trying to mask concern with casual interest. But his posture betrayed him, shoulders tense, hands clasped too tight.

“Yes.” The single word hung between us, thick with implications I didn’t dare voice.

My thumb hovered over the call button, the decision gnawing at me. Before I could press it, the shrill ring of an incoming call sliced through my hesitation. Nathan’s face filled the cracked screen and relief surged through me, quickly chased by a fresh wave of anxiety.

“Finally,” I breathed, swiping to answer. “Nathan?”

“Abby?” His voice was a taut wire, fraying at the edges. “Are you okay? Are you still with Justin?”

“Hey,” I said, forcing calm into my voice as I glanced at Justin’s rigid form beside me. “Yeah, we’re both here. Some people came by looking for him, but we handled it. We’re safe.”

There was a pause on the line, long enough for doubt to snake through my chest. He wasn’t saying anything, and the silence was more than enough proof that things hadn’t gone as planned. “What’s going on, Nathan? Talk to me.”

“Ma’s dead,” he said, and those two words fell like a shroud over the room.

My hand flew to my mouth, the shock of Nathan’s words etching a look on my face I couldn’t hide. The air seemed to suck out of the room as Justin caught one glimpse of my reaction and crumbled, his body folding in on itself like he had been hit by an invisible blow. Derek was there in an instant, arms wrapping around him, a silent pillar of support.

“But are you…are you safe?”

“Yes,” he said. “For now. I want to meet back at the house, we need a plan. Ba’s unhinged; we need to do something.”

“Okay,” I said. “We’ll be there.”

Suddenly, the discordant wail of sirens bled into our conversation, and my heart dropped into my stomach. They sounded too close, too urgent.

“Nathan, what’s happening?” My voice was sharp with fear.

“Ah, just my luck,” he replied, the calm in his voice at odds with the chaos closing in on all of us. “I’m being pulled over.”

The tires crunched against the gravel shoulder as Nathan pulled over, the sound piercing through the phone and into my anxious heart. “Nathan?” I said, my voice laced with a mix of desperation and dread.

In the background, I could hear the shuffle of movement, his breath steady but too careful, too measured. It was the sound of a man who had been in tight spots before, who knew how to wear the mask of calm when the storm raged just beneath the surface.

“Good afternoon, officer.” The words were smooth, practiced, that charming tone he used that could make you believe he was just another guy, not the eldest son of a Triad boss.

I held the phone tighter, my other hand gripping the edge of the table as if I could somehow hold onto him through the line. My eyes flicked to Justin and Derek, the former’s face a mask of confusion and pain, the latter trying to be the rock we all needed but couldn’t find within ourselves at that moment.

“Please step out of the car, sir,” came the next voice, authoritative and cold, sending an icy jolt of fear through me. It wasn’t a request; it was an order—one that carried the weight of the badge behind it, the power to unravel everything we had been fighting for.