Serpent King's Bride: A Dark Mafia Romance Trilogy

Desperate for any kind of distraction, my hands fumbled for the watering can on the windowsill. The metal felt cool and impersonal—a welcome change from the heat of human contact. I turned the faucet on, letting the sound of rushing water fill the silence between us as the can slowly filled.

My fingers tightened around the handle of the watering can, the cool metal grounding me as I began my methodical task. Water dribbled into the soil of the first plant, the fern that always seemed on the brink of wilting no matter how much care I gave it.

“God, Nathan, will you just listen to me?” Abby’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and frustrated. “I know I screwed up, but so have you. You’re not Mr. Perfect, and in case you haven’t noticed, I’m still here protecting you.”

Her words bounced off the walls, but I kept my focus locked on the greenery before me. Leaves quivered under the gentle cascade from the spout, indifferent to the human drama unfolding just steps away.

“Protecting me?” I scoffed without looking at her, my hands moving to the next pot, a sturdy snake plant. “You’ve embedded yourself into my life despite what I want, Abby. That doesn’t mean we’re allies—or friends. Don’t make the mistake of expecting that from me.”

She fell silent, and I could feel her eyes burning holes into my back, but I didn’t turn around. Instead, I continued watering the plants, one by one, letting the repetitive motion soothe the chaos inside me. The act of nurturing something else gave me a respite from the turmoil of our entanglement, a fleeting peace amid the storm.

As the water settled into the soil of a spider plant, I sensed a shift in the room. Glancing up, my eyes caught Abby’s silhouette against the fading light filtering through the windows. Her figure was slumped, defeated as she started to ascend the staircase, her hand barely grazing the banister. The sight tugged at something within me, an instinct I despised for its persistence.

“Abby.” My voice was sharper than I intended, causing her to pause mid-step, her head turning just enough to show the glisten of fresh tears threatening to spill over. “You need to understand this clearly,” I said, setting down the watering can with a firmness that echoed my resolve. “No matter what little games you play, no sentimental gestures, no amount of tears will change the fact—I will not fall for your manipulations again.”

Her shoulders stiffened, a silent acknowledgment of my words. There was a fleeting moment where the vulnerability in her eyes almost cracked the armor I’d built around myself.

Almost.

She didn’t respond, didn’t plead or protest. Instead, she turned away, continuing her ascent up the stairs, leaving me alone with the sound of my heart pounding against my ribs. I watched her go, knowing full well the complexity of our twisted bond.

With Abby gone, the silence of the house settled around me. I grabbed the watering can again, my motions mechanical as I moved from one plant to another, pouring life into the soil as if it could somehow quench the anger simmering within me. The philodendrons, the ferns—they all got their share, but not a drop did anything to cool the heat of my frustration.

She knew how to push my buttons, knew exactly where to prod to elicit a reaction. And damn it, she was good at it. Every time I told myself I was immune, she found a new crack in my armor. This dance we did, it was exhausting, yet I couldn’t seem to step away from the rhythm we’d set.

I finished with the last of the houseplants and made my way back to the kitchen, ready to put the watering can away and try to forget the chaos of the past few days…well, weeks, really, ever since she’d come into my life. But as I set the can down, my gaze landed on the peace lily sitting by the window—a stark reminder of her presence in my life. It was a new addition, its glossy leaves stretching toward the light, innocent and unassuming.

She must have bought it for me.

A gift, the most literal kind of peace offering…and I’d treated her like dirt.

I reached out, fingers brushing against the dark green foliage. The contrast of the pure white bloom against my rough skin wasn’t lost on me. There was something infuriating about the way she managed to leave pieces of herself behind, embedding them into the fabric of my daily life.

I hated that she could still get to me.

Hated that even now, despite the anger coursing through me, I couldn’t bring myself to toss the damn plant into the trash.

With a grunt of annoyance, I watered the peace lily, ensuring its survival for yet another day—just like Abby’s hold over me.

Chapter Twelve: Abby

Iwoke to the subtle rhythm of Nathan’s breathing, a sound so familiar now it was like my own heartbeat. He lay behind me, his presence as undeniable as the sun that peeked through the blinds, yet he might as well have been a world away. Since our fight yesterday, not a single word had passed between us. I felt the weight of his silence pressing down on me, heavier than any argument we’d ever had.

I shifted slightly, hoping for some kind of reaction, a sign that he was still with me in this, but nothing came. The tension in the room clung to me, tight and suffocating. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had fundamentally shifted. Nathan had never been one to hold back, his desires as clear and demanding as his commands. But last night, even with anger hanging thick in the air, he hadn’t touched me.

Hadn’t used me.

And I didn’t know which was worse–the sting of his hands or the cold absence of them.

I sat up, clutching the sheets to my chest, and glanced over my shoulder. His eyes were closed, long lashes casting shadows against his sculpted cheeks, but I knew he wasn’t asleep.

When had I started to care? To really care about this man who was both my target and my protector? The realization was like a punch to the gut, leaving me winded and wary. I’d spent weeks next to him, learning his routines, the softness he hid behind a wall of brutality. And somewhere along the line, the boundaries had blurred, the FBI agent in me overshadowed by the woman who craved his touch, his approval, his…love?

Yes. His love.

I loved him. More than I’d ever loved anyone, and that scared the shit out of me.

Because I had fallen for the most dangerous man I’d ever met. And I was terrified of what that meant for both of us.