Serpent King's Bride: A Dark Mafia Romance Trilogy

The laughter had dwindled to a pleasant memory when Dad’s expression took a turn, his smile fading into the kind of sigh that carried the weight of the world. “You know, Abby,” he started, his voice barely above the sounds of the city that trickled in through the slightly ajar window, “you’re so much like your mother sometimes that that also scares the hell out of me.”

I leaned back, my heart tugging with the mention of her. Mom was the firecracker of any gathering, the one who could turn a mundane Tuesday into an adventure without trying. She had died when I was so young, and I had lost some of her memory to time. I remembered her favorite dress–red, but not the shape of it. I remembered the scent of her powdery make-up but not her preferred shade. I remembered chatting with her as she put the make-up on, tracing the outline of her mouth with lip liner, smiling at me as she asked me if I wanted to try it.

How much I missed her sometimes seeped into my bones and the ache felt impossible to fill. But my dad was always there, helping me, smiling even when I could tell he was close to crumbling.

And I had put myself in danger–I had made him vulnerable to losing me.

I might be able to forgive Nathan for everything he’d done, but I still wasn’t sure if I could ever forgive myself.

“Being like Mom is good though, right?” I asked cautiously, searching his face for signs of nostalgia.

“Good? Sure.” He ran a hand over his stubbled chin, staring at something distant, something beyond the confines of the beige walls that surrounded us. “Your mom was a total wildcard, always bringing the unexpected into my life.” His voice cracked just a little, and I knew he was somewhere else.

“Sounds like she’d approve of my current…situation then,” I tried to joke, though humor felt brittle on my tongue.

Dad didn’t bite, though; he only shook his head slowly, his eyes meeting mine with a gravity that pushed the air out of the room. “She didn’t have a job that could get her killed, Abby.”

His words were a cold slap, sobering and sharp. They echoed ominously, reminding me that beneath the badge and bravado, I was still someone’s daughter.

“Neither did you, once upon a time,” I reminded him softly, seeking the familiar ground of mutual understanding. “But now you know how I felt every time you had to work a dangerous case.”

He looked at me, his eyes narrowing. “No, Sprout,” he said. “Because if I lose you, then I won’t just kill him. I’ll make sure to make it hurt.”

Chapter Seventeen: Nathan

The leather steering wheel felt cool under my fingers as I navigated the evening traffic, the cityscape a blur of lights and shadows outside the window. Abby sat beside me, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes flickering with thoughts she kept to herself. The silence between us was loaded, a tangible weight that seemed to grow heavier with every mile that brought us closer to my family’s home.

“Remember,” I started, “tonight we’re the picture of happiness. We don’t want any slip-ups.”

Abby nodded, her gaze locked on the passing streetlights. “And what about Tyler? Do you think they’re buying it?”

I tightened my grip on the wheel, the muscles in my jaw tensing. “They don’t suspect a thing. As far as they know, Tyler is just another unfortunate soul lost to the streets.”

“Good.” She paused, her next words hesitant. “And our engagement?”

I shot her a quick glance, feeling an edge of irritation. “I’m working on it, Abby,” I snapped more harshly than I intended.

She recoiled slightly, hurt flashing in her eyes before she masked it with a practiced smile. “Of course, Nathan. I trust you.”

Guilt gnawed at me, but I pushed it aside. We were nearly there, and I needed to focus. My father, the Serpent, had tightened our circle ever since whispers of betrayal had slithered their way into our midst. Weekly dinners under the guise of familial bonding were his way of keeping his eyes on all of us—a subtle interrogation over rice and steamed fish.

The engine hummed to silence as I parked on the curb, Lily’s car already in the driveway with Ma’s and Ba’s. Stepping out into the evening cool, I straightened my jacket and watched Abby do the same, her graceful movements betraying nothing of the turmoil we’d discussed on the drive here.

“Ready?” I asked, though it was rhetorical. We had to be ready—there was no room for hesitation in this house.

“Always,” she replied, a hint of steel underlying her voice.

As we entered through the front door, the familiar aroma of garlic and ginger hit me, the scents weaving through the air like a welcome. Ma and Lily were at the stove, their synchrony in the kitchen a well-rehearsed dance. They turned, offering us smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes.

“Justin’s not here yet,” Ma mentioned casually, though I sensed her scanning our faces for any signs of discord. “Your father wants to see you in his office.”

“Thanks, Ma,” I responded, forcing warmth into my voice. I glanced at Abby, giving her a nod before making my way down the hall.

The door to Ba’s office was ajar, and I pushed it open without knocking—a privilege of blood. The sight that greeted me was as familiar as the back of my hand: the Serpent hunched over his laptop, fingers stilled mid-type as he acknowledged my entrance.

“Close that, will you?” he gestured towards the door with a tilt of his head, not looking up from the screen.

I obliged, listening to the click of the latch catching. Only then did he close his laptop with a soft snap and gesture to the chair opposite him.