Serpent King's Bride: A Dark Mafia Romance Trilogy

The elevator chimed again, signaling our arrival at his floor. We stepped out into the plush carpeted hallway, and I took a deep breath. This was it—the calm before the storm.

His room was down the hall, and I trailed after him, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. The door clicked shut behind us, and it felt as though we had entered another world—a silent bubble where truths could be whispered without fear of prying ears.

He turned to me, his expression changing entirely.

“Abby. Listen to me.”

I listened, my eyes wide, feeling like a little girl again.

“Is he listening to us right now?” Dad’s voice was so quiet I could barely hear him, but I knew exactly who he was talking about. Nathan…the serpent looming over this whole conversation.

“No, he’s not,” I assured him, shaking my head for emphasis. “We’re alone.”

“Good,” he nodded, his jaw set. He gestured toward me. “And this…is it an FBI operation?”

Before he could probe further, a sharp knock at the door made us both jump. Adrenaline surged, my hand instinctively reaching towards my side, where a weapon would have been if I were on duty, if this was…a lifetime ago. Dad’s hand went to the small of his back where he always kept his piece hidden. Our eyes locked.

“Room service,” called a voice from the other side of the door, chipper and oblivious.

Dad exhaled slowly, and I followed suit, feeling the coiled panic within me begin to unwind. He moved to the door with caution etched into the lines of his face, peering through the peephole before swinging it open to reveal a hotel employee with a cart laden with covered dishes.

“Thank you,” Dad said. His voice was steady but I could hear the undercurrent of relief. He tipped the attendant and wheeled the cart inside himself, shutting the door with a soft click that seemed to echo in the room.

“Let’s eat,” I suggested, trying to put on a brave face as I gestured towards the food. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah, one second,” he said. He didn’t waste any time. He approached the cart like a bomb squad officer approaching a suspicious package, his movements precise and deliberate. I watched as he lifted the metal covers from the trays, eyes scanning, fingers deftly probing for anything out of place.

He’d been hunting monsters long enough that he knew how to play the game.

“Can’t be too careful,” he muttered, more to himself than to me, but I nodded in agreement. I got this. I got what he was doing.

“Let’s just eat, okay?” I said, my voice soft but firm. “Talking can wait until after the first bite.”

“Alright, Abby,” he conceded, though his eyes still darted around the room, searching every shadow, every corner. We sat down at the small table by the window, and for a moment we just stared at the feast before us.

We ate in silence, the clinking of cutlery against plates filling the void between us. I pushed the food around my plate, appetite waning as the weight of my confession loomed over me. He didn’t talk.

He just waited for me, which made the pit in my stomach coil tighter.

Finally, I couldn’t stall any longer.

“Dad,” I started, my voice barely above a whisper, “Nathan is Triad.”

He stopped mid-chew, his gaze lifting to meet mine. There was no shock in his eyes, just a silent acknowledgment.

He was expecting this, and that made me feel worse.

“And no,” I continued, feeling the resolve harden within me, “this isn’t sanctioned by my superiors.”

“Before you say another word,” Dad said, his voice low and laced with a protective edge that had always made me feel both safe and smothered, “I need to know if Nathan hurt you.”

I paused, my heart thudding against my ribcage. The thought of lying flickered through my mind, but it was no use—he’d see right through it. Instead, I met his gaze head-on and said simply, “I love him.”

“That’s not an answer, Abby,” he growled, his hands clenched into fists on the tabletop. “And I swear to God, I’ll fucking kill him if he laid a finger on you.”

The intensity in his eyes scorched me, but I held my ground. “Dad, please. You have to promise me you won’t do anything.”

He started to object, but I rushed on, “Nathan knows everything—about me, about the FBI. If we make a move now, it’s not just our lives on the line, it’s everyone we care about.”