Page 82 of Serpent King's Prisoner

We laid there for a moment, catching our breaths. Then he rolled off me, pulling me into his side as we laid there in silence. I let my fingers trace the dragon tattoo on his chest, fascinated by the intricate details that were hidden beneath his clothes.

I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. It was then I realized how far I’d wandered down a path I never intended to take.

I was falling for him.

And I was falling for him hard.

I told myself to get a grip. Stockholm syndrome would’ve been so fucking dumb. I was a trained FBI agent, and I wasn’t going to let the fact that this man’s dick was this good cloud my judgment.

At least I hoped not.

“Nathan,” I started, hesitant, “I need to go back to my place. There are some things I should get.” My words hung between us, a reminder of the life I had before all this.

“I don’t want you going anywhere without me.”

“So come with me,” I said. “You want to sell the story, right?”

He stiffened for a moment, his embrace tightening around me. “Okay,” he said after a pause, his voice betraying a reluctance I hadn’t expected. “We can do that.”

“And,” I continued, gathering courage like armor, “my dad. I can’t put off seeing him any longer. He’s worried sick.”

Nathan let out a long breath, and I felt him nod against me. “Tonight, then. Dinner with your father. You pick the place.” His tone was resigned but firm. “But Abby, you’re not doing this alone either. I’m coming with you.”

“Of course,” I agreed, my mind already racing with what this meant. A meeting with my dad, Nathan by my side. What the fuck was I getting my dad into? He was smart…he would be able to tell something was up, to put the pieces together. He’d cracked down on some of the most dangerous mobsters in Boston, and Nathan would make a good target.

I was playing a very dangerous game.

He caught me staring as he stirred, a lazy smile playing on his lips before it slipped away, replaced by the hardened mask of the assassin I knew too well. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, muscles tensing as he stood up.

“I have business to attend to. You’re welcome to do whatever you want in the apartment. Just remember, this house,” he swept his hand vaguely in the air, “it’s got eyes everywhere.” His gaze locked onto mine, a challenge and a warning wrapped into one. “So don’t try anything.”

I nodded, the reality settling heavily on my shoulders. The air conditioning had chilled the room, so I pulled the sweater back over me. It felt like armor against the chill of his words, and I pulled it tighter around me. This wasn’t just about survival anymore; this was about gathering ammunition.

Maybe, if I played this right, I could win.

“Understood,” I replied, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of thoughts.

Nathan disappeared into the adjoining bathroom, the sound of running water hammering home the point that our bubble had burst. Here, in his world, every sweet moment came with a shadow, a reminder that freedom was just out of reach, dangling like a carrot on a stick.

I glanced at the door he’d left ajar, a sliver of opportunity beckoning. But no, not today. Today was about playing the long game, about using the cards I’d been dealt to dismantle the empire he’d built, brick by bloody brick.

Abby Harper, FBI agent, was not about to let Stockholm Syndrome cloud her judgment—not when her father’s worried frown and the badge she’d earned were etched so clearly in her mind.

Maybe I didn’t just get out of this alive.

Maybe I got out of this…by winning.

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Nathan

Atext from Ba had summoned me, and I knew it meant business.

The air was thick with the scent of salt from the bay as I made my way to the Serpents’ hideout, the heartbeat of our empire pulsing in the shadows of Chinatown. I felt the weight of the night’s purpose heavy on my shoulders, a familiar burden that came with being Kenny Zhou’s eldest son.

I pushed open the door to one of the many entrances to the tunnel system under Chinatown, the sound of it creaking louder than usual in my ears. My mind raced through the details I’d have to explain—how Abby and I had been hiding out, stealing moments laced with passion and whispers of a future I wasn’t sure we could ever have.

She was mine now, no matter what it might cost me.

And it could cost everything.

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