Serpent King's Bride: A Dark Mafia Romance Trilogy

Nathan let out a deep sigh, patting his brother’s back. “Yeah,” he murmured. His dark eyes met mine across the room, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. An unspoken gratitude that said he was glad I was here to witness this moment, to be a part of this healing.

And just like that, they let go. Justin wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and Nathan glanced down at him, offering him another reassuring smile. The air in the kitchen seemed lighter after that.

Lily watched her brothers quietly for a moment before she spoke up again. “So…” she began, looking at me with her sparkling brown eyes. “When’s the wedding?”

Nathan cleared his throat. “Yeah, about that,” he said. “I didn’t call you guys here just to talk about the engagement. There’s something else we need to discuss.”

Chapter Thirty-Five: Nathan

My siblings had never been inside my home, but of course, it was Abby who brought us together.

She moved around the kitchen with ease, her hands deftly uncorking a bottle of Napa Sauvignon Blanc and filling the glasses one by one. The rich aroma of garlic and cream filled the air, mingling with the smooth, fruity flavor of the wine.

“Here you go, guys,” Abby said, handing out the glasses as she flashed that warm smile of hers that seemed to light up the dim space.

I grabbed a glass, the cool stem against my palm, and turned to see Lily reaching out for hers with a smirk dancing on her lips. “You sure about this?” I asked her, raising an eyebrow. She was twenty, a year shy of legal, and I couldn’t help but play the overprotective big brother.

Lily rolled her eyes, her hand closing around the stem of the wine glass. “Please,” she scoffed, her voice laced with sarcasm. “I come from a family of career criminals; you really think this is the law we should be following?”

Laughter erupted from all of us. Even I couldn’t suppress the chuckle that rose in my throat at her defiance. In our world, rules were more like suggestions, and yet, some part of me still clung to the hope that not every line needed to be crossed.

Especially when it came to my siblings, I was committed to ensuring they got to live a normal life.

…but I guessed we could bend the rules just this once.

We settled in, gathering around the kitchen island laden with steaming bowls of shrimp Alfredo. The casual setting felt foreign, yet fitting for what was to come. We never sat down for dinner without my parents, in their home, under Ba’s ironclad rule. Here, we could relax.

And we could speak freely about all the things Ba made sure we left unsaid.

As we dug into the food, I watched them eat—their faces relaxed, their guards momentarily down—and warmth spread through me. I caught Abby’s eye across the island, and for a moment, it was just us in a silent exchange of gratitude. She gave me a subtle nod, and I knew she felt it too, the significance of this small act of normalcy amidst our chaos.

It was then, surrounded by the clink of forks against plates and the low murmur of conversation, that I felt the surge of love for these people—my family. It wasn’t perfect, far from it. But they were mine, and I was theirs, bound by blood and a shared history that was as dark as it was deep. Abby, though not tied by blood, had become just as much a part of this tapestry, her presence a soothing balm to the rough edges of our collective soul.

“Pass the parmesan, will you?” Lily’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I obliged, sliding the cheese across the marble countertop.

This was family—flawed, broken, but together.

Justin was the first to finish, pushing his plate aside with a satisfied grunt. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then fixed me with a look that meant business. “Nathan, what the heck is going on? You’ve got us all on the edge of our seats.”

I sighed, putting my fork down. It was time to cut through the pretense. “I’ve been in touch with Alex.”

The room fell silent, all eyes on me. Lily’s fork clattered against her plate, her complexion losing its color. Justin leaned forward, the lines etched into his forehead deepening.

“Is he okay?” Justin’s voice was tight, the concern for our brother palpable in those three words.

“Yeah, he’s okay,” I said, avoiding their gazes as I focused on a water stain blooming like a stubborn weed on the table.

“Where is he?” Lily asked.

“Staying hidden,” I told them. “Which is good—he shouldn’t tell any of us where he is. We’re all safer not knowing.”

Justin’s eyes widened, and he exchanged a glance with Lily, who looked like she might be sick. The weight of our family’s legacy seemed to press down on us all, suffocating the easy atmosphere from just moments ago.

“So you don’t think he’s responsible for the bombings?” Justin asked.

I fixed my gaze on him. “Do you?”

“Hell no,” Justin shook his head. “Alex isn’t smart enough to pull that off.”