Serpent King's Bride: A Dark Mafia Romance Trilogy

I kept my face neutral, though her words tightened something in my chest. “I understand your concern,” I replied evenly. “But I had to do what I thought was necessary for the mission.”

“Is that so?” Diane’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it—an unspoken question hanging between us. “The only reason we didn’t panic was because we heard from your father. He assured us you were okay.”

I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of my father’s influence. A safety net I was both grateful for and resented. It was a complicated dance—being Owen Harper’s daughter. The expectation to excel, to follow in his footsteps while carving out my own path.

“Owen is…” Diane paused, choosing her words carefully. “He’s a fine detective. Has taken down some powerful people in his time.”

“His reputation is well-deserved,” I acknowledged, my hand subconsciously touching the necklace beneath my shirt–the necklace Nathan had locked to my neck, a constant reminder of his influence. “I’m here to ensure his trust in me wasn’t misplaced.”

Diane nodded, her expression softening just a fraction. “We’re on the same team, Abby. Means you need to keep us informed.”

My fingers tightened around the white ceramic mug, the cream in my coffee swirling like storm clouds on a tempestuous sea. Diane’s office was utilitarian to the bone—steel filing cabinets, a no-nonsense desk, and the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead.

“Your dad and I go way back,” Diane said, her voice pulling me back from the edge of my thoughts. “Owen Harper’s quite the legend around these parts.”

A small, proud smile tugged at the corner of my lips despite the situation. “Yeah, he is. He’s my hero.” I hoped that would be enough, that we could move on from this topic. But Diane had the tenacity of a pit bull when she sensed something amiss.

“Following in his footsteps, then?” Diane prodded, her eyes not missing a beat.

“Trying to,” I replied, my voice quieter than intended.

Diane leaned forward, her hands clasped like she was about to say grace. There was no warmth in her eyes though—just the cold calculation of a woman who’d seen too many agents fall from grace. “You know, Abby, going off-mission the way you did…” Her voice was cordial, but it felt like a velvet glove over an iron fist as she smiled, her expression at odds with her words. “I should take your badge for that.”

I stiffened, my heart thrumming against my ribcage. I knew the rules—I’d broken them, flagrantly. But it was all for Nathan, for us. I couldn’t let her see that, though. Couldn’t let her see how much I was willing to compromise for him.

For love.

“Understood,” I managed, my throat tight. “But…let me explain myself.”

She leaned back, waiting.

“Agent Hayes,” I began, the faintest tremor in my voice betraying the fear I fought to hide, “despite how it looks, I’ve continued working. I started…” I swallowed hard, the lie heavy on my tongue, “…dating a Chinese-American man. He’s not Triad himself, but he’s connected. Knows people.”

Diane raised an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical.

“Is that so?” Her tone was flat, as if she’d heard this kind of story before and found it lacking.

I nodded, reaching into my blazer for the list I had prepared earlier. My fingers grazed the paper, folded crisply like the future it could potentially burn away. I handed it over, watching as Diane unfurled it with deliberate care. “These are Triad laundering locations that have been burned recently.” I paused, my heart thudding. “Do you already have his info?”

She leaned forward, her gaze scanning the list, but it wasn’t the addresses that caught her attention—it was the necklace around my neck. The collar that was more shackle than ornament, locked securely and hiding its true purpose—a GPS tracker placed by the very man whose secrets I was keeping.

“Unusual necklace,” Diane commented, her eyes flickering up to meet mine. “Is that a snake in the filigree?”

My breath hitched, and I forced a laugh, attempting to keep the moment light. “Is it? I never noticed—just thought it was pretty when I saw it.”

“May I?” Diane reached out, her fingers inches from the collar that would unravel everything if she discovered its secret.

“Sorry, the clasp is broken.” My excuse came out rushed, and I mentally kicked myself for not sounding more casual. I moved back just enough to avoid her touch without seeming too obvious.

“Of course,” Diane said, her voice unreadable. She turned her attention back to the list, giving me a moment’s reprieve from her probing.

“Good work, Harper,” she finally said, tapping a finger against the paper. “We’ll look into these laundering locations.”

“Thank you,” I replied, my relief almost palpable. But I knew better than to let my guard down.

“Keep it up,” Diane added, her eyes locking onto mine once more in an unspoken warning. “But remember, we’re watching.”

I stood up, my legs shaky but my voice steady. “Understood.” I needed to leave, to breathe air that didn’t taste like this.