Page 4 of Serpent King's Prisoner

“Fine,” I typed back quickly, my fingers steady despite the adrenaline spike. “Just got home. What do you need?”

“You know better. Not over the phone.”

Fucking. Asshole.

I hated him so much. It had been such a long day, and I just wanted to stay home and maybe have a bath.

“Meet me in an hour,” Tyler’s response popped up almost immediately. “The usual spot. We need to talk.”

“That serious?” I asked aloud, though I obviously didn’t type that back to him. I glanced at my phone for as long as I thought I was allowed, then picked it up again. “Okay. Everything okay?”

“We need to talk about the recent incident.”

The recent incident. He meant the explosions—the ones that had been ripping through the city like pages torn from a book, each one a mystery waiting to be unraveled. I stared at the words, steeling myself. This was why I was here, living a double life, wading through the murky waters of organized crime for answers that seemed as elusive as shadows at dusk.

And Tyler was my handler. He was probably going to assign some work to me–or tell me to get a grip and definitely stay out of it.

“Understood,” I replied, locking the phone and setting it aside. The flowers in the kettle caught my eye, their innocence a sharp contrast to the dark reality of my job. But even the lilies’ hidden toxicity served as a reminder—there was danger lurking beneath every surface, and it was my duty to root it out.

Fuck, they were pretty. Just like that man was.

I hadn’t even gotten his name.

“Okay, Abby,” I said aloud to the empty apartment. “Get a grip. He was probably just being nice.”

I didn’t have a lot of time to think about it as I stood up and put my hair up in a tight bun. It was time to switch girls, from the girl enchanted by the unexpected kindness of the hottest man she had ever seen to the agent hunting down leads amidst the chaos.

Shit was about to go down.

And I had never been more fucking ready.

Chapter Two: Nathan

Few things scared me. But one thing that never failed to do that was dinner time with my dad.

Now it was time for family dinner…which with any ordinary family, would have been lovely.

For mine, though? It meant business. And that business was usually bloody.

I arrived before anyone else, just like I always do. The weight of the recent chaos hung heavy on my shoulders as I stepped out of my black BMW and onto the familiar driveway of the family home. In my hand, a bouquet of lilies and chrysanthemums—a peace offering and a habit I couldn’t shake. Ma loved flowers, and it was one small way to soften the edges of our world.

The door swung open before I could knock. There stood Ma, her dark eyes lighting up at the sight of me.

“Ma,” I said with a smile, handing over the flowers. Her arms enveloped me in a warm embrace, pulling me into the scent of her jasmine perfume. It clashed with the fragrant aroma that wafted from inside—sharp anise and sweet cloves.

“Thank you, baobei,” she whispered, planting a kiss on my cheek. “They’re beautiful.”

I managed a tight smile. “Just for you, Ma.”

Stepping into the foyer and sliding my shoes off, I felt the undercurrent of tension that tried to hide beneath the homely scents. Ma turned back towards the kitchen, the rustle of her dress mixing with the clink of cutlery being set on the dining table. Lily, my little sister, was already here—probably came early to help Ma cook.

“I made duck tonight,” Ma called over her shoulder, her voice light and casual. “Your favorite. Since all the kids are coming home.”

“Smells good,” I replied, though my stomach knotted at the thought of food. It wasn’t just a normal dinner. It never was. Not with the shadows looming over us, the threats against our operation growing bolder by the day.

My father didn’t have family gatherings. He had business meetings. It was who he was and who he would always be.

“Go on now,” she said softly, nodding towards where Ba would be waiting. “He’s eager to see you.”

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