Page 2 of Serpent King's Revenge

Diane leaned back in her chair, the smugness never leaving her face. "You're learning firsthand that they don't take kindly to cop killers around here."

"Alleged," I corrected her. It was a game of semantics, but in this room, every word counted. Every word was a potential lifeline or a noose.

"Of course…'alleged,'" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Lawyer," I said again, firmer this time. "I want my lawyer, Diane. You've had your fun, now it's time to play by the rules."

"Rules?" She chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "Nathan, you should know better than anyone that sometimes…rules need to be bent."

"Even the Constitution?" I asked dryly. "Because last I checked, you're breaking about a thousand laws by not giving me my call. You’ve got nothing on me and you’re just letting your men have a little fun."

"Oh, I’ve got plenty on you," Diane replied. With a shake of her head, she opened the folder in front of her with a casual flick of her wrist. "Want to take a peek?"

I glanced down at the stack of papers but said nothing. The game was hers for now, and I had to be careful not to make any wrong moves.

"It's a list of suspected victims," Diane continued. "The Serpent's Fang—heard of him? One of California's most notorious mafia hitmen."

Silence hung between us for a moment longer before Diane sighed and began pulling out photographs from the folder. She passed them over one by one, each a grisly snapshot of my past mistakes. Early days, messy work—before I learned to clean up my act.

"Nothing to say?" Diane prodded when I didn't react.

"Should I?" I countered, though it took effort to keep my voice even. Something churned in my gut as I looked at the faces in the photos. Faces that should've meant nothing to me, just part of the job.

But instead, my stomach twisted with an unfamiliar sensation, and nausea threatened to rise up.

Because I kept seeing Ma’s face superimposed on my victims. Bloody, lifeless, brutalized.

How many of them had families that still missed them?

"Really, Diane?" The words slipped out, tinged with a disgust I couldn't hide, as the images of the dead stared back at me. "What's the point?"

Diane leaned back in her chair, a smug look shaping her lips as she watched my reaction. "I'm surprised, Nathan. For such a callous, coldblooded killer, you seem…affected."

Internally, I was screaming. Each face on those photos could have been Ma…or Abby, or Lily, Justin, Alex. That reality clawed at me from the inside out.

But I couldn't show Diane that. Couldn't let her see the chaos her little show stirred up within.

"Where is my lawyer?" I narrowed my eyes at her. "I've got rights, and you're stomping all over them."

Diane shrugged, an almost imperceptible lift of her shoulders as she reached for the scattered photographs. With methodical indifference, she slid them back into the folder and snapped it shut.

"Rights," she echoed with a dry chuckle, "are a luxury, Nathan. Not when you've killed a federal agent." She tapped the closed folder, a drumbeat to my racing heart. "But none of this matters if you play your cards right."

I stayed silent, watching her every move like a hawk eyeing its prey.

"Help us dismantle the Serpents from the inside, and I can guarantee you an easier sentence," Diane said, her voice pitched low, as if offering a secret. "You're just a tool to them, Nathan, I know that…and you want out right? For you and your girlfriend."

My heart dropped into my stomach, pounding like a drum. Not her—not Abby. I didn’t give a fuck about my life, but if they hurt Abby…

“I’m not seeing anyone—”

Diane interrupted me by dropping something shiny and gold on the table—and I realized that it was the necklace I’d locked around Abby’s neck weeks ago, the one I’d only recently removed. She watched me closely, scrutinizing me for each and every reaction.

“We found that in your home in South Beach,” Diane said without so much as blinking. “Along with…well, a downright obscene amount of DNA evidence. For such a tidy killer, you make a big mess when you’re fucking your FBI agent girlfriend.”

I couldn’t help myself; I jerked my hands up, straining against the cuffs.

"Abby's got nothing to do with this," I spat.

---