Page 102 of Serpent King's Revenge

For a second, I just sat there, hands gripping the wheel so tight my knuckles turned white.

"Ready?" Abby's voice was soft next to me.

I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah."

Last time I stepped into this house, I was supposed to save Ma. Instead, I watched my father put a bullet in her head.

I didn't save her. I couldn't. And now, every shadow in this place whispered her name.

"Hey," Abby reached over, her hand warm on mine. "It’s almost over."

I stared at the house, finding the resolve that was quickly slipping away as I gripped her hand.

“I know.”

We stepped out of the car, Abby's hand finding mine as we moved toward the house. The place stood quiet—too quiet. No guards rushed out to meet us, and there was no guard at the door. Just the silent façade watching us approach.

"Too easy," I murmured, eyes catching a red blink above the doorframe. A camera. But something told me it was just for show. My father had his hands full; fending off an assassination attempt wasn’t on his agenda when his empire was burning.

"Someone's gotta be watching," Abby whispered, squeezing my hand.

"Maybe," I said, "But they didn't see this coming."

The moment we stepped through the door, two guards materialized—as far as I could tell, the only ones here. Two guys with guns snapped to attention, aiming straight at us. I shot my hands up without a word—no sudden moves—while Abby did the same beside me.

"Easy," I said, voice steady. "We're not here for trouble. Just want to talk to my old man."

The goons didn't speak, but their eyes were on us like hawks. They gestured for me to move, maybe to pat us down.

That's when Abby doubled over, a hand clutching her stomach as she made a truly disgusting noise.

"I—I feel sick," she gasped out, her face pale.

The guards looked at each other, unsure for a second, and I could see them trying to figure if this was some kind of trick.

"Sorry," Abby choked out, her hand on her belly. "It's just…with the baby and all."

The guards looked at each other, thrown off their game by her sudden sickness. I could see the surprise in their eyes; they hadn't counted on this.

"The boss said she’s slippery," one guard muttered to the other in whispered Mandarin. "Fucking bitch."

I was seconds away from snapping when Abby hunched over, gagging like she was going to lose it right then and there. Her eyes met mine, quick and sharp, then flicked to the stairs.

That split second was all I needed to hear it—a soft cry cutting through the thick tension in the air.

Lily.

"Hey, hey," I said, reaching out to rub her back. "You look really bad—do you need to go to the bathroom first?"

Abby's act didn’t break as she nodded, her face the picture of misery. She knew what was at stake; we both did. The guards eyed us, guns still trained, but the uncertainty was clear.

"She’s really sick," I pressed on, gesturing to Abby's stomach. "Wouldn't want that mess here, right?"

Their hesitation hung in the air . Abby, pale and convincing, gave them an apologetic look that might just save our asses. If they only knew the storm brewing inside us, the fury and the fear twisted up so tight.

But for now, all they saw was a man concerned for his pregnant partner, nothing more. They looked at each other, not sure what to do—

Then, both their phones buzzed at once.

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