Serpent King's Bride: A Dark Mafia Romance Trilogy

Page 79



It was something I’d lived with every day of my life.

Ma’s gaze met mine briefly before she addressed them both, her voice warm yet firm. “The vows are straightforward,” she said, embodying the calm assurance of someone who had navigated these waters before. “They shouldn’t scare you any more than what you’ve already faced by being involved with the Serpents. We take care of each other—that’s how it works.”

Abby nodded, her eyes locking onto Ma’s with an intensity that spoke volumes. She was ready to step into this new chapter, to accept whatever it demanded of her. And though it was just another day in the life of the Triad, for Abby, it was the beginning of something entirely different—a pledge of loyalty to a world that was as dangerous as it was binding.

“Thank you, Evelyn,” Abby said, her gratitude genuine, her voice steady. A hint of steel laced her words—a reminder that she wasn’t just some damsel; she was a woman made of grit, capable of standing her ground.

“Are you ready?” Ma asked, her eyes softening.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Abby replied with a small, determined nod.

“Good,” Ma said with a nod of approval.

Her attention then drifted past Abby and Lily, scanning the room as if to silently summon everyone to the ritual about to unfold—and I followed her gaze to find my father standing behind an altar, waiting for all four of us. His voice, deep and resonant, cut through the silence like a blade: “It’s time.”

The gathered members shifted their attention, forming a semi-circle around the ceremonial space dominated by an altar carved with a serpent, emeralds glinting in its eyes—an enduring symbol of our legacy and power. The air was thick with anticipation, and the scent of incense hung heavy, intertwining with the subtle notes of jasmine from the tea prepared for the oath.

I moved through the crowd, my path clear as I approached my father’s side. His presence was magnetic; even without saying a word, he commanded respect. As I took my place beside him, I caught the subtle lift of his brow—a silent acknowledgment of what was to come.

Abby and Lily, their faces a mixture of nerves and resolve, knelt on the red velvet cushions laid out before the altar. Their poise under pressure didn’t go unnoticed; it was a trait valued above many in our world. They were outsiders stepping into the fold, but they did so with a grace that belied the gravity of their commitment.

Ma positioned herself across from Ba completing the circle. It was a familiar sight—these rituals had been a part of my life since I could remember—but this time, it was different. My mother stepped forward, assuming a role I hadn’t seen her take before. In all my years, I’d never witnessed her lead a ceremony, and the realization sent a jolt of curiosity through me.

“Tonight is significant,” she began, her voice clear and authoritative, yet laced with a warmth that only those closest to her would recognize. “Not just for you two,” she motioned to Abby and Lily, “but for our family as a whole.”

I watched, pride swelling within me as Ma continued, her words a guiding force. She spoke not just as my mother or as Evelyn Zhou, the wife of the Serpent, but as a pillar of our community—the matriarch whose strength often went unseen but was nonetheless the backbone of our operations.

“Tonight, Lily and Abigail stand at the threshold, ready to join the Golden Circle. Remember—loyalty is the chain that binds us, secrecy the veil that shields us, and honor the blade that defends us,” Ma’s voice carried across the hushed room. “Are you prepared to swear these oaths?”

The weight of her words filled the air. I could feel every pair of eyes in the room fixed on the two kneeling figures. Abby’s posture was straight, her chin lifted with a courage that made my chest tighten. Beside her, Lily’s determination mirrored Abby’s resolve, yet I caught the slight tremor of her hand—an honest display of her humanity.

Abby nodded first, a small but resolute gesture. Then, as if driven by an invisible force, she reached out to Lily. Their hands met, fingers intertwining for the briefest of moments—a fleeting touch that spoke volumes of the solidarity between them—and I knew then that, even if something happened to me, Abby would protect my younger siblings.

I loved her so fucking much.

“We’re ready,” Abby said, Lily nodding along with her.

Ma’s hands were steady as she poured the jasmine tea. The steam curled upward, carrying with it a scent that momentarily transported me to quieter times, far from the underbelly of Chinatown. As I lifted a ceramic cup from the altar, the familiarity of the ritual did little to calm the tempest within me. My motions mirrored those of my mother, though my heart thrummed a chaotic rhythm against my ribcage.

“Abby,” I said, offering the cup, my voice barely betraying the storm of emotions inside me.

Her fingers brushed mine as she accepted it, and for an instant, I wished we were anywhere but here. But those sparkling green eyes of hers held a resolve that fortified my own.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her gaze never leaving mine.

Ma’s voice cut through the moment, solemn and commanding as she handed Lily her own cup of tea. “You swear to uphold the Serpent’s secrets, to bury them deeper than the ocean floor and guard them closer than your own breath. May your words be carefully chosen as threads woven on a loom, revealing nothing that would harm the family.”

The weight of the oath hung heavy in the air. Abby’s eyes flickered to mine once more, a silent promise passing between us before she looked away to face my mother and said, “Yes.” A knot tightened in my gut, a complex tangle of pride and fear. She was about to become one of us, bound by blood and vow, and the finality of that thought sent a chill through me, even as warmth radiated off the bodies crowded in the underground chamber.

The scent of jasmine filled the air as Abby and Lily lifted their cups in unison. The delicate fragrance did little to mask the gravity of what this tea represented. My throat felt dry watching them, knowing that with each sip they took, their fates entwined more tightly with ours.

“Drink,” Ma’s voice commanded gently, yet it carried through the chamber like a decree.

I watched Abby’s lips touch the rim of the cup, her eyes meeting mine over the porcelain edge. There was no hesitation in her movement, no faltering in her resolve. She sipped, the liquid a silent seal over her vows, and set the cup down with a soft clink against the stone altar.

“I swear,” she whispered, her voice steady.

Lily mirrored her actions, the echo of her own oath blending seamlessly with Abby’s. Their words were simple, but in the stillness of the underground chamber, they resonated with an undeniable power.


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