Serpent King's Bride: A Dark Mafia Romance Trilogy

“Like through insurance fraud?” I asked.

A smile pulled at the corner of Evelyn’s mouth. “Abby, Mengyao was one of us,” Evelyn continued, her voice a low thrum that filled the small space between us. “She was a friend to Xinyi Lin, and she wanted justice for what Nathan did to her son.”

“You’re saying Mengyao attacked Grand Avenue as revenge against Nathan?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice even.

Evelyn nodded once, solemnly. “Yes. She couldn’t forgive him for killing Xinyi’s wife and beating her son. It’s why she joined us—to make things right, in her own way.”

“Then…you’re not responsible?” The question hung in the air, tentative and probing.

“Responsible?” A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “Oh, Abby, in this world, we’re all responsible for something.” Her eyes met mine again, and it felt like she was peeling back layers I didn’t even know I had. “But no, Mengyao acted on her own vengeance that night.”

There it was—the stark truth laid bare between us. Evelyn, a silent queen in this treacherous court; Mengyao, a victim turned avenger; and me, an FBI agent caught in the crossfire of a family war. With every revelation, the lines blurred further, making it harder to tell where my allegiance should lie.

“Listen to me,” Evelyn said. “Nathan was lucky she didn’t have someone murder him. A plant shop can be…replaced. My son’s life isn’t replaceable.”

“But Mr. Lao–”

“The florist was not my son,” Evelyn interrupted. “We need to protect our own, even if others get hurt. I’m sure you can relate to that.”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “Okay, but I don’t understand. Why are you behind the fires? Why risk everything?” I pressed, eyes locked on Evelyn’s.

“Because my husband,” she began, her voice tinged with a venom that made me feel cold despite the warmth of the teahouse, “is a plague to our organization. His greed has only grown with his power, and he’s lost sight of what the Triad stood for.”

“Power does that to people,” I murmured, thinking of the countless crime reports I had studied back at Quantico.

“Exactly,” she agreed. “The snake rots from the head, Abby. And it’s clear to us—the wives, the silent observers—that for the Serpents to survive, for any semblance of honor to return, there must be new leadership.”

“So a wife will take over?”

She laughed, throwing her head back, as if I’d just said the funniest thing in the world. “No, of course not,” she said. “Oh, you do have a sense of humor. No, the one man who can run our ops will be the head of the Serpents. We want a new leader. Vincent Chen.”

“Vincent…wait–Knuckles?”

“Knuckles,” she nodded, confirming his alias.

“But wait–if he’s in league with you, then why kill Mengyao?”

“Because it was necessary,” Evelyn said. “Knuckles knew that, if Mengyao were taken captive by my husband, she would break and tell him everything. We all made a pact–that we would rather die than tell our secrets.”

“And you want that guy in charge?”

Evelyn nodded. “He understands balance, respect. With him, things would be different.”

I processed her words, feeling the weight of an unspoken alliance forming. Here in the Eight Treasures Tea Room, amidst the scent of jasmine and oolong, a conspiracy was brewing—one that could topple the very foundation of the Golden Serpents. And somehow, I was becoming a part of it.

“I suspected he was involved, but I didn’t know how,” I murmured. “I guess this confirms it.”

The clink of fine china seemed to echo more than usual as I set my cup down, drawing a line in the sand. Evelyn’s intense stare drilled into me, her fear for Knuckles briefly flashing across her otherwise composed facade.

“Have you told Kenny or Nathan about this?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, every word laced with urgency.

“I don’t talk to your husband,” I said. “But I told Nathan Knuckles might be involved because Khe was having clandestine meetings with some woman all over Chinatown…and I guess that woman was you?”

Evelyn exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing. It was clear now that she had been holding her breath, waiting for my response. She was genuinely scared for Knuckles—scared enough to risk everything by sitting here with me.

And then, as if a puzzle piece snapped into place, a realization hit me hard. “Oh my god…you’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

She looked away, her silence more telling than any confession.