Page 113 of Serpent King's Prisoner

Abby stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor, her movements stiff, awkward. She extended her hand first, a move that took courage given the man she faced.

“Mr. Zhou,” she greeted him, her voice steady despite the tension.

“Ah, you must be Abigail Harper,” Ba said, his tone neutral as he shook her hand. “Nathan’s girlfriend.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” she replied, holding his gaze.

I felt it then, a surge of pride for this woman who stood before the Serpent without flinching. She didn’t know him like I did, but she knew enough to understand the risk, the danger of what she was doing just by being here, just by holding onto my world with both hands.

“Sit, sit,” Ba waved off the formality, though his eyes lingered on Abby a moment longer before he took his place at the table. “Let’s eat.”

The clatter of chopsticks and the rustling of bowls filled the space as we settled in around the dining table, a spread of steaming dishes between us. Ma took the lead, her questions gentle but probing, aimed at Abby.

“So, Abby dear, where did you go to school?” she asked, passing a dish of stir-fried vegetables toward her.

“UCLA,” Abby responded smoothly, her green eyes meeting Ma’s with an ease that belied the lies she had to weave into truth. “I studied art history.”

“Ah, that’s a lovely subject,” Ma said with a nod, clearly pleased. “And what do you do now?”

“I’m currently looking for work in a museum,” she replied, taking a modest portion of the veggies. “It’s been a bit of a whirlwind trying to get my feet under me.”

I watched her, admiration warming me from the inside out. The way she navigated the conversation, it was like watching a seasoned artist paint a masterpiece. Every stroke, every line, was deliberate and without hesitation.

“And how did you two meet?” Lily piped up from across the table, her curiosity plain on her face.

Abby glanced at me, a silent plea for me to jump in, but I wanted to hear her tell it. I nodded slightly, urging her to continue.

“We met at Grant Avenue Floral, actually,” she began, a light blush dusting her cheeks, and my gaze dropped to her lips as she spoke. “I was leaving work at the cafe next door and got distracted by the bouquets…and Nathan gave me one for free. After that, well, things just sort of...took off.”

The corners of my mouth tugged into a faint smile, pride swelling inside me like a rising tide as Abby spun our tale with the skill of a seasoned storyteller. Her voice carried the melody of truth laced with the necessity of fiction, and it was all I could do to not reach across the table and lace my fingers with hers.

But the warmth of the moment dissipated as plates clinked against each other, signaling the end of the meal. Ba pushed his chair back with an air of finality that turned the atmosphere heavy.

“Justin, Nathan, we need to discuss business,” he said, his voice devoid of the familial warmth that had surrounded us just moments before.

I felt Abby’s gaze on me, her eyes searching for reassurance. I knew what waited in the shadows of those discussions—cold calculations and decisions bathed in danger. My chest tightened at the thought, but I couldn’t let fear rule this moment.

“Actually, Ba,” I began, my voice steady despite the quickening of my heartbeat, “I think we should stay put. After the mess with Justin, it’s time we all understood the stakes. No more secrets.”

A silence fell over the dining room, thick enough to smother flames.

Ba’s stare fixed on me, hard and unyielding. His eyes, which I knew could command legions, bore into mine. The rest of the family seemed to hold their breath, the tension coiling around us like one of the serpents from his tattoos.

“Everyone?” His single word echoed with disbelief and the undercurrent of a challenge.

“Everyone,” I affirmed, meeting his stare without flinching. I couldn’t risk Abby—or anyone else here—not knowing the full extent of the danger. If bringing her into the fold meant standing up to the man who taught me everything about power and survival, so be it.

“Let’s talk. Just you and me, son,” Ba said in Mandarin after a long, drawn-out pause, but the set of his jaw told me this conversation was far from over.

We were on dangerous ground, but looking at Abby, feeling the weight of her trust, I knew there was no turning back now.

Chapter Fifty-One: Abby

We’d moved to the kitchen.

I helped Nathan’s mom and sister clean up the dining room. Justin was on his phone, listening to his father and his brother.

The air in the Zhou family home was electric, the kind of charged atmosphere that made my skin tingle despite the calm facade I held. Kenny and Nathan stood a mere breath apart in the dimly lit living room, two titans locked in a silent battle before words became their weapons. I busied myself with plates and busywork, pretending I wasn’t listening, pretending I couldn’t understand.

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