My head snapped up as the kitchen door swung open with a bang. Xinyi Lin stood there, her presence filling the room like a storm cloud rolling in over the bay. She was all business, her eyes flinty and fierce. I’d never seen her in anything but full control, and this—this chaos in her kitchen—had sparked a fire in her that made even my blood run cold for a second.

“Get off my son,” she commanded, her voice slicing through the clamor like a knife. Without hesitation, she marched toward us, her hands balled into fists at her sides.

I didn’t give a fuck.

I laid into him again, punch after punch, until he was on the ground…and then I was kicking him in the ribs. He was barely moving now, but Xinyi didn’t falter, reaching to grab my arms, to pry me away. We struggled, her determination matching mine blow for blow. Her nails dug into my skin, her actions fueled by a mother’s desperation.

“Enough, Nathan! Enough!” she shouted, and I could hear the panic in her voice.

In a moment of fury, I turned to face her. My hand acted without command, striking Xinyi across the face with a force that echoed in the silent aftermath. She stumbled back, her eyes wide with shock, and fell against the steel countertops clattering with an array of pans.

The sound of her hitting the floor cut through the haze of anger like a knife through silk. My chest heaved, breaths coming out in ragged torrents as I watched her struggle to regain her footing, a hand pressed to her reddening cheek.

What had I done?

I stood there, frozen, my own mother’s face superimposed over Xinyi’s pained expression.

“Ma...” The word slipped out, barely audible above the ringing in my ears…or Andrew’s ragged, guttural breathing.

Reality crashed into me like the waves against the cliffs at Marshall’s Beach. I’d crossed a line; I could feel the shift in the air, the weight of gazes from the kitchen staff who’d been too terrified to leave.

“Get up,” I muttered, more to myself than to her. I backed away, my movements jerky, unfocused. The sight of Andrew’s motionless form on the ground, Xinyi’s tear-streaked face—it was all too much.

I turned on my heel, shoving past the stainless-steel doors that separated the kitchen’s violence from the dining room’s opulence. The serene hum of conversations and clinking glasses felt surreal as I strode through the restaurant, every eye turning to follow the trail of chaos left in my wake.

Bursting out into the light of the setting sun, I found my car right where I left it, the sleek black exterior reflecting my face…making it all to clear that there was a hurricane raging inside me. I yanked open the door, threw myself inside, and jammed the key into the ignition.

The engine roared to life, a beast awakened, as I peeled out of the parking lot with tires screeching their protest. In the rearview mirror, the flashing red and blue lights were closing in, but I was already gone, swallowed up by the city’s labyrinth of streets.

And no one would say my name.

They wouldn’t dare.

I would get away with this…just like I got away with everything else.

“Shit,” I hissed, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.

This wasn’t just another brawl, another assertion of power. I’d struck an elder, a woman—a cardinal sin in the code I followed, even in this twisted world I inhabited. And not just once.

Twice in two days.

Xinyi Lin…and Abby.

“Ba’s gonna have my head for this,” I murmured, knowing the Serpent would see this as more than a lapse in judgment. It was a crack in the empire, a sign of weakness we couldn’t afford.

My thoughts raced, a torrent of strategy and regret, as I navigated the familiar roads back to the empty high rise. I wanted to pretend to be normal, to pretend like there was no world outside of that cozy apartment where Abby—my prisoner—waited.

I needed a distraction from the storm inside.

And Abby was a perfect distraction.

If I was foolish enough to keep a pet…then I was going to fucking use her.

Chapter Nineteen: Abby

Iwas afraid.

But mostly, I was angry.