“Damn it,” I muttered, knowing full well this was more than just a close call. It was a message delivered with a bullet—we weren’t safe, not even among the flashing lights and nosy cops. Whoever was bold enough to strike at us like this wasn’t going to stop.

This wasn’t just about territory or money. This was personal. And I knew too well that debts of blood demanded to be settled.

I ducked into the shadowed alleyway, chest heaving from the chase. My phone was already in my hand before I was conscious of pulling it out. The sleek device felt slippery against my sweaty palm as I punched in the number with a thumb that throbbed dully.

“Talk to me,” came the gruff voice on the other end, laced with a quiet urgency.

“Ba, I saw it. The whole place is torched, nothing left but ash,” I said, struggling to keep my breathing even. “And ba…there’s been a shooting. One of the cops got tagged from a rooftop.”

“Damn,” my father cursed, a steely edge cutting through his usually composed tone. “And the perp?”

“Slipped away.” My voice was a low growl, frustration knotting my insides. “He knew the terrain.”

There was a pause, and I could practically hear the gears turning in the old man’s head. When he spoke again, his voice was cold, hard as the pavement I stood on.

“Looks like we’ve got a real problem on our hands. This isn’t some street scuffle, Nathan. They’re hitting us where it hurts, making a statement.”

“Yeah, they are.” I glanced back at the chaos unfurling behind me, the distant flicker of red and blue lights painting the night. “We’re not dealing with amateurs. It’s a message, alright. The Golden Serpents are in trouble. We’ve got a war brewing on our doorstep.”

“Get back here,” he ordered, the command brooking no argument. “We need to tighten our grip, remind them who owns these streets. You did good, son. But stay sharp. We can’t afford any slip-ups.”

“Understood.” I pocketed the phone, steeling myself for the conversation ahead. Things were about to change, and I had to be ready—for the sake of our family, our territory, our survival.

The night air was cool against my heated skin as I made my way back, every step heavy with the weight of impending conflict. The Golden Serpents might be in trouble, but we weren’t beaten.

Not by a long shot.

Not if I had anything to do with it.

Chapter One: Abby

Imight have only been acting as a waitress…but I still needed to wipe some fucking tables down.

It didn’t matter, I thought with a smile. I was getting good at this pretending thing.

I wiped the last coffee ring off the table, my hands moving almost on their own, as if being a waitress at this little San Francisco cafe was my real job.

The morning rush at Red Lantern Coffee & Tea had come and gone, leaving behind only the scent of jasmine tea and the chatter from the TV mounted on the wall. And absolutely no new information to send back to Quantico.

I glanced up at the screen where a news anchor was talking about some restaurant that had burned down. But the more I watched, the less it looked like an accident. I shook my head; something about the scene didn’t sit right with me.

“Hey Lou,” I called to my boss as I untied my apron in the back. “I’m gonna head out for the afternoon, okay?”

“Sure thing, Abby,” he said without looking up from the espresso machine he was cleaning. “Don’t forget to lock up tight. It’s been rough around here lately.”

I held back a smile. He was right, of course–San Francisco was dangerous. I’d just always been able to defend myself.

“You got it,” I replied, grabbing my jacket and bag. As I stepped outside, the sounds of Chinatown wrapped around me like a familiar blanket—English and Mandarin mingling together, just like when I was a kid hanging out with my best friend, whose dad still worked with mine on the force.

Back then, Mei had taught me the language, sharing her culture as we shared secrets and dreams.

But time had pulled us in different directions, leaving only occasional visits with Dad’s partner Hank Yu, who was more family than friend now. Hank had been his partner before he retired, and sometimes when I saw him, it was like I could still hear their stories of stakeouts and close calls.

But that had been a long time ago. I was here now and I had a job to do. Being a young woman in the FBI on a reconnaissance mission meant that I absolutely had to prove myself.

If I didn’t, I would be stuck on desk duty for the rest of my career.

Next door, Grant Avenue Florals spilled out onto the sidewalk, a riot of colors and scents that made me pause. I leaned over to breathe in the fragrance of roses and chrysanthemums, letting my eyes drift shut for just a moment.