Serpent King's Bride: A Dark Mafia Romance Trilogy

Kenny’s face reddened, and I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or shame. “He’s not welcome,” he continued in Mandarin. “This is my home and you should know better.”

I feigned ignorance, even though I could feel the tension ramping up. I hadn’t thought it could get worse–but here we were, hurtling toward disaster.

“Then explain to me,” Justin’s voice rose, his hands clenching into fists on the tablecloth as his speech got faster, harder for me to discern. “why is Derek different from Abby? Why does she get a pass?”

“Don’t be naive, boy. You know why,” Kenny shot back, his words cold and deliberate. The room seemed to shrink with those syllables.

“Tell me then!” Justin challenged. He was speaking in English, too flustered for Mandarin, his jaw set hard. I could feel the battle lines being drawn.

“Abby might also be an outsider, a white girl who has no job and no prospects,” Kenny said in Mandarin, turning his gaze toward me, “But she can give the family heirs.”

The statement hung there, stark and undisguised. It wasn’t just about bloodlines; it was about legacy, about continuation—things that mattered more than love or affection in their world.

I didn’t have time to even bristle at the insulting words, at how cutting they were. Even if I had, I wouldn’t have been able to show it; as far as the Zhou family was concerned, I didn’t speak a word of Mandarin.

From my peripheral vision, I noticed Derek’s hand slide across the table, finding Justin’s. Their fingers intertwined beneath the surface. Quiet but defiant.

My eyes met Nathan’s across the table. He sat like a statue, his black eyes unreadable, but a tension coiled in him ready to spring. His gaze bore into his brother, but from the way his fist was clenched, I could tell he was watching his father.

As Justin opened his mouth to argue again, my phone shattered the argument, silencing everyone. Its shrill ringtone felt like a scream, jerking everyone’s attention toward me. My heart skipped. I glanced at the screen—an unknown number.

“Sorry,” I murmured, silencing it.

I knew who it was, and I knew she wasn’t going to leave me alone. I was hoping she’d get the hint…but it rang again, persistent, demanding to be answered. I sighed. “I have to take this.”

Excusing myself from the table, I stood, aware of the curious stares tracking my every move.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Harper, it’s Diane. You need to answer your phone when I call,” came the sharp reprimand from my superior.

Her voice was like a splash of cold water, bringing back a rush of reality. “This isn’t a good time,” I replied, keeping my voice low. I couldn’t afford slip-ups, not with so much at stake, not with the tense scene I’d just stepped away from.

“Is there a fight going on back there?” Diane’s voice cut through the tension in my next breath, her question sharp and direct.

“Something like that,” I answered, brushing off the concern in her tone. “A family dinner got a little heated over politics, the usual.”

“Well, this is more important than that,” she said. “You have to make time to pick up the phone. Listen, we can’t keep doing this over the phone. It’s time we finally met face to face.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “Agreed,” I said, my gaze flickering back to the doorway where muffled voices argued with increasing intensity. The weight of my duty settled heavy on my shoulders. “But not right now, Diane. I’m in the middle of a—“ I paused, searching for the right word that wouldn’t give away too much, ”—a shitstorm.”

“Fine,” Diane responded, her tone softening just a fraction. “Handle it. But when you’re clear, we meet. No more delays.”

“Understood.” My response was automatic, drilled into me from my time at Quantico. I ended the call swiftly, sliding the phone back into the pocket of my dark jeans.

I re-entered the dining room and it was…weird.

Justin stood, his posture rigid with defiance. Nathan loomed beside him, his expression a mask of serenity as he put a gentle hand on Justin’s shoulder. As if sensing a rising storm, Kenny rose from his seat, his eyes darting between his sons.

“Justin,” Nathan’s voice was low, almost soothing, despite the chaos around them. “This isn’t the place. You should go.”

But Justin wasn’t having any of it. He shrugged off Nathan’s restraining hand. “I thought you were better than this, Nathan,” he spat out, disappointment sharpening his words.

Nathan flinched, the slightest wince betraying a crack in his stoic face.

“Let’s just leave,” Justin said, his voice softer now, resigned. He reached for Derek, fingers intertwining with his boyfriend’s as if drawing strength from the contact. They didn’t look back as they strode toward the door, an unspoken pact sealed between them. “I hope you’re proud of yourself, Ba. I’m never coming back here.”

He said it in English, maybe to make me understand, maybe for Derek’s benefit.