Page 68 of Serpent King's Prisoner

She was becoming my downfall.

Chapter Thirty-Two: Abby

Iwas alive.

I intended to remain fucking alive.

I was a coil of tension, every fiber of my being pulled taut as Nathan handed me a fresh pair of sweats and a shirt. The fabric carried the scent of him, an intoxicating mix of danger and something surprisingly gentle. My legs ached, calves tight with the memory of pleasure that left me breathless and yearning.

“Here,” he said, his voice a low thrum in the quiet room. With a patience I hadn’t expected from a man of his reputation, he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. Then, he handed me a hairband. “You’ll want your hair out of your face.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, gathering my brown locks into a ponytail. I couldn’t reconcile this tenderness with the ruthless assassin prince who ruled the streets of San Francisco with an iron fist.

Nathan’s hand found its way around my waist, pulling me close. “You gonna behave for me, Abby?” His tone was playful, but the undercurrent of authority wasn’t lost on me.

“Always,” I replied, feeling the hard proof of his desire against my stomach. He tilted my chin up, his grip firm yet devoid of malice, and captured my lips with his. The kiss was deep, claiming, leaving no room for doubt about who I belonged to.

I loved it.

Pulling away, he fished out a pair of sunglasses and placed them in my hands. “It’s bright out there. Don’t need you getting a headache.”

I blinked at the shades, a mundane concern from a man who dealt daily with life and death. I slipped them on my shirt, and we stepped outside together, the potted plant from the apartment our only companion.

“Nice touch with the plant,” I commented, trying to keep the mood light despite the pulse of anxiety beneath my ribs. This was the first time I’d been out of this apartment in days–and it tasted like a change on the wind, like freedom.

“Even the darkest places need a bit of life,” he said, his gaze briefly softening before the mask of the Triad boss slid back into place.

Freedom, it seemed, was just another illusion when you were tied to this man.

Nathan’s hand was a shackle around my arm, unyielding as he marched me down the corridor. The hallway was a skeleton of what it might one day become, all bare concrete and exposed wires—an apt metaphor for the unfinished business between us. Fear twisted in my gut, but I masked it behind a veneer of bravado.

“Planning to bury me in the foundations, Nathan?” My voice echoed slightly, too loud in the confined space.

He shot me a look that was all sharp edges, but his grip didn’t tighten. “You watch too many movies, Abby.”

“Nothing else to do when you’re kidnapped,” I muttered under my breath.

He chuckled, the sound scarier than it should have been. “No…I don’t bury people,” he said quietly. “They go straight into an industrial composter–make for good soil.”

Jesus. My mouth went dry, my throat constricting.

If I hadn’t fought for my life last night, that could have been me.

The elevator was definitely different to the plush ones I’d seen in high rises on TV; just steel and a single button worn from use. As we descended, my heart thumped wildly. Every ding marking our descent was a countdown to an unknown fate. But when the doors opened, instead of a watery grave or a concrete tomb, there stood a sleek black BMW in a well-lit parking garage.

“Come on.” Nathan’s voice was curt as he tugged me toward the car. He opened the back door and gestured inside with a nod. “After you.”

“Such a gentleman,” I muttered, climbing in. The leather seats were cool against my skin, a small comfort as he clicked the child locks into place and slid into the driver’s seat. His movements were precise, every action calculated.

I slid the sunglasses over my eyes.

As we emerged onto the bustling streets of San Francisco, sunlight filtered through the tinted windows, casting the world in a monochrome hue. I leaned back, trying to calm the rapid beat of my heart.

“Relax, Abby. You’re safe,” he said without looking at me, eyes fixed on the road.

“Safe is a relative term with you, isn’t it?”

“Safer than you’d be anywhere else,” Nathan replied, a hint of something unreadable in his voice. “At least here, I can protect you.”

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