Page 111 of Serpent King's Prisoner

Made sense, given everything she now knew.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” she said, but her voice didn’t carry the conviction I needed to hear. It was a brave front, and we both knew it.

I grunted in response, my focus on the road ahead. I’d laid bare all my secrets to her, each one a noose tightening around my neck. In telling her what I was, who I was, I’d not only endangered her life but signed my own death warrant if things went south.

And yet, as we drove closer to my family’s unassuming home nestled among the cookie-cutter houses of suburbia, I couldn’t shake the thought that I’d do it all over again.

I trusted her, and that was something I rarely afforded anyone.

“Here we are,” I murmured as I turned the car into the driveway.

Abby turned to look at the house, her expression softening in surprise. “This is it? It looks…normal. Kind of cute, actually.”

I almost laughed, a short, sharp sound devoid of humor. “Looks can be deceiving,” I said, though I didn’t elaborate. My own place was a fortress compared to this, the luxury barely concealing the decadence and danger within. Here, any traces of what my family truly was were skillfully hidden behind quaint shutters and blooming rose bushes.

But I knew better than to be charmed by the facade. I had spilled enough blood in the basement beneath those roses to ensure that this house would never be anything but a mausoleum to me.

The sun hung low, casting long shadows across the pavement as I killed the engine and looked out at the scene before us. Across the street, a couple of kids dribbled a basketball, their laughter slicing the morning air with a normalcy that felt alien. They were just kids, doing what kids do, blissfully unaware of the darkness lurking behind closed doors.

“Whose car is that?” Abby’s voice was laced with disbelief as she eyed the modest budget sedan parked in the driveway next to mine.

“My mother,” I chuckled. “Surprised?”

“I don’t know, I just figured every Zhou drove a Porsche,” she laughed.

“I don’t.”

“But you’re you.”

“And what does that mean?”

“You’re…” she furrowed her brow. “You’re Nathan. I know you. And I just know you wouldn’t drive a porsche.”

I shook my head, not sure what the hell that meant—but finding myself oddly flattered. “Well…yes, my mother drives a budget sedan. Just wait until you meet the rest of my family.”

We made our way to the door, and I lowered my voice to speak in private one last time before this test.

“Remember what I told you,” I said, turning towards her, the weight of my father’s expectations pressing down on me like a physical force. “Don’t let this fool you. My family…they’re dangerous. Stick to the story. Always stay on guard.”

Abby nodded, her eyes meeting mine with a determination that steeled my resolve. She understood the stakes—her life, my life, all teetering on the edge of a knife that could fall at any moment.

I pushed open the door, and the scent of simmering broth and spices wrapped around me like a familiar embrace. Ma’s cooking always had that effect—grounding, almost capable of making me forget who I was and what I’d done.

“Hey, Nate!” Justin’s voice cut through the homely atmosphere, his tone bright but laced with a hint of pain. He was reclining on the couch, a bandage peeking out from under his shirt and another on his head, evidence of his wounds from the club. His arm was in a sling.

At the sight of Abby, he straightened slightly, his eyes widening in a mix of surprise and curiosity. Next to him, Lily lifted her gaze, mirroring my brother’s expression.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Justin blurted, a teasing glint in his eyes as they locked onto Abby. “Nathan Zhou, bringing a girl home.”

“Justin,” Lily scolded gently, though a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Leave her be.”

I shot them both a warning look, hoping they’d remember not to push too hard. But there was something about their banter—typical, annoying sibling stuff—that eased the tension coiled tight in my chest.

“Nice to meet you,” Abby said, extending a hand towards Justin with a confidence that made me proud. She didn’t flinch under their scrutiny or shy away from the spotlight suddenly thrust upon her. It was that same boldness that had caught my attention when she’d first walked past the flower shop…the same boldness that had stopped me from killing her.

“Likewise,” Justin replied, grasping her hand with a grin that told me he approved—and also that he would give her hell for it later. “So, what’s your story?”

“Justin,” Lily warned again, shooting me an apologetic look before turning her attention back to Abby. “Ignore him. We’re glad you’re here.”

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