14. Chapter Fourteen Abby

Chapter Fourteen: Abby

I loved him…and I needed to get away.

I leaned against the cold railing of the balcony, the ocean stretching out before me like an endless abyss. The chill in the air bit through the thin fabric of Nathan's shirt—the only thing I wore aside from my panties. It barely warmed me as I stood there, trying to make sense of the chaos that was now my life.

Everything had spiraled so quickly. Tyler's murder and dismemberment kept replaying in my mind, a haunting image I couldn't shake. Then there was the moment my secret spilled out, revealing the badge beneath all my declarations of love.

"Accusations" was too soft a word for the venom Nathan spat when he learned the truth. There wasn't a trace of trust left in his eyes when he looked at me, just the hard glint of betrayal and something darker, something that made me shiver.

I thought about what I'd become in such a short time. From law enforcement royalty to a woman who slept with the enemy, literally and figuratively. And God, that had changed everything. Nathan Zhou had shown me sides of him that didn't fit the monster the world feared.

"Abby Harper," I whispered to myself, "what the hell have you done?"

I edged closer to the railing, watching the city lights flicker like distant stars, the world unknowing of the tempest brewing inside Nathan's fortress. My gaze fell on my clunker still parked on the street, out of place amongst the BMWs, Mercedes, and sports cars. I could take it, ditch it somewhere in the city, grab something untraceable. My phone was charged, nestled in my back pocket somewhere inside.

Freedom was within grasp.

Run , a voice inside me urged. This is your chance.

But as quickly as the thought came, it tangled with another—a memory of Nathan's rare smile, the way his eyes softened when he looked at me. The taut lines of his neck when he threw his head back to laugh about a joke I'd made. It was reckless to think about love. About his love. Yet, there it was, that sharp ache in my chest, the undeniable truth that I had glimpsed what it might be like to be truly loved by him.

"Damn you, Nathan," I murmured, the words barely escaping my lips.

With every step away from the window, away from the possibility of escape, the weight of my decision settled heavier on my shoulders. I'd seen the darkness in Nathan, but I'd also seen the light, however fleeting. And now, caught between duty and desire, I found myself paralyzed—not by fear or uncertainty, but by the realization that I didn't want a life without him in it, regardless of how twisted that sounded even as the thought left me breathless.

I didn't fight back the bitter laugh threatening to break free, but it never came. No sound came; only a silent vow that whatever lay ahead, I was probably in too deep to walk away now. Nathan Zhou, Fangs, the man with the dragon inked into his skin and violence at his fingertips—had somehow, against all odds, become the man I couldn't leave behind.

But if he was cruel again, if he forced my hand…then I might have to. Then I might just not have a choice.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside, the silence of the house wrapping around me like a thick fog. I scanned the space, but Nathan was nowhere to be seen. My gaze drifted to the garage door, where the keys lay untouched on a small table beside it. A way out. My mind raced with the possibilities—fleeing now could mean just an accessory charge, a few years behind bars...but my career in the FBI would be over.

Then, cutting through the stillness, came his voice from upstairs. A voice that had commanded many and softened for few. The unmistakable cadence of Mandarin sifted through the air, and instinctively, I crept up the stairs, my bare feet light against the floor, moving as though they belonged to someone else.

Nathan's voice was low, threaded with a warmth that surprised me. He was in his—our—bedroom, speaking into a phone on speaker mode. I could hear his footsteps padding softly back and forth, pacing. I lingered at the threshold, careful not to make a sound, as I translated his words in my head, piecing together the conversation with the fragments of Mandarin I could hear.

"Ma, please don't worry," he said, and even without seeing him, I could picture the furrow of his brow, the subtle clench of his jaw.

I leaned closer, pressing my ear against the door, my breath held tight in my chest. This felt important, it felt human. This was a connection, however fraught, to someone who mattered to him.

Evelyn was on speaker, but her voice was muddled, harder to hear.

"Justin can handle himself, you know that," Nathan continued, the subtle rasp in his voice betraying his effort to stay calm. "He won't give up the guy's name because he doesn't want Ba to go after him. He's protecting him, like...like I would do."

There was a sigh on the other end, and even without seeing her, I knew Evelyn Zhou was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. A mother torn between her husband's iron will and her son's desperate love.

"Ma," Nathan's voice dropped an octave, a steel thread weaving through the tenderness. "I've stood between Justin and Ba before. Remember when he came back from Hong Kong? I got in the way then. I have the scars to prove it and I would do it all over again."

Evelyn's response was muted, but it didn't need to be loud for its significance to echo through the room, through Nathan's tightly coiled frame.

I closed my eyes, thinking back to the first time I'd seen the jagged lines tracing his skin—a map of pain and protection that he wore like armor. At first, I thought they were just the marks of a man with his job; cruel, unmoved, merciless.

But it wasn't just that.

They were more than just remnants of past fights; they were a testament to his defiance, to the lengths he'd go to shield those he loved from the cruelty of his father's world.

And in that moment, as Nathan's words hung heavy in the air, I felt a shift within me. Fear mingled with something else—an unbidden respect for the man on the other side of the door.

It made desire pool between my legs, which surprised me. But it steeled my resolve, too. I was sure of it then: I wasn't going anywhere.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. When I finally knocked on the door, Nathan looked up, his face reverting to the unreadable mask he presented to the world.

"Can I come in?" I asked, my voice steady despite the pounding of my heart.

He nodded once, a silent sentinel guarding realms of pain and power I could only begin to understand. As I stepped into the room, an oppressive silence settled between us, broken only by the faint hum of the city in the distance, the ocean waves just beyond the balcony. Nathan's eyes remained fixed on mine, searching, perhaps, for signs of weakness or deceit. But I offered neither; only the unspoken acknowledgment of shared secrets and the weight they carried.

"I overheard you talking to your mom," I said at last, a clumsy attempt to bridge the chasm that lay open, raw and daunting, between us.

"What did you hear?" he asked.

"Not much," I said. "That she's worried. That she loves you."

"Well, she shouldn't," he replied, his tone flat, but I heard the faintest crack in his voice. "It makes you soft."

"Or maybe it makes you stronger," I countered quietly, challenging him to consider a truth he had long dismissed.

I realized that this standoff was going nowhere when his gaze bore into mine, but he said absolutely nothing.

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the tense air of his room.

"Look, Nathan," I began, my voice steady despite the tremors I felt within. "You were right."

He waited for me.

"You were right–it's too risky for us to do anything else, but I want you to know that this isn't the reason I'm doing this…getting married, I mean."

He raised his eyebrows, hurt flashing in his eyes for a split second before he fixed his face.

"We're still getting married. I'm still in this. I'm still here, with you."

A muscle twitched in his jaw, the only sign that my words had struck a chord.

"This marriage…" he said after a moment, the word sounding more like a death sentence than a future. "It's just another lie, Abby."

"It's more than that," I insisted, leaning closer, daring to breach the distance between us. "It's our shield. It's how we survive this."

The silence stretched again, taut as a wire, as his gaze bore into me, perhaps seeking the lies he'd grown accustomed to finding. But there were none; my declaration was as raw and honest as the pulse thrumming in my neck.

He shook his head slowly, the motion a dance of shadows in the dim light. A laugh, hollow and laced with disbelief, escaped him as he stared at me, incredulous. "You're insane if you think I'd want to marry you. I'm not doing this because I want to, Agent Harper. And you're definitely insane if you believe I could ever trust a liar like you."

It made me want to break, to scream, to take him by the shoulders and shake him until he understood. Instead, I straightened my back and lifted my chin, meeting his scorn with unwavering resolve. "We told your father we would do it, Nathan."

"I know, but you're talking about it like it's something you think I would want, and I don't," he said.

I bit back the sting of his words, knowing this was no moment for vulnerability. Instead, I squared my shoulders, meeting his scorn with unwavering resolve. "We told Kenny Zhou we would do it, Nathan…and you've said yourself that no one goes back on their word with him. We need to keep up the ruse. It's the only way. You told me that."

He stared at me, quietly, unflinching.

"Is that why you're quiet? Because somewhere deep down, behind all that anger and pride, you know I'm right?" I asked, my voice cutting through the tension.

He sat totally still, a dark sentinel against the backdrop of his opulent bedroom, the lamplight and dense plants in the corners casting strange shadows across his face. For a moment, he looked more like a statue than a man, but then he gave a barely perceptible nod. That was all. No words, no agreement voiced aloud, just an acknowledgment of the truth.

I exhaled slowly, trying to hide the tremor in my breath. "You don't have to like me, Nathan. Hell, you can even hate me if that's what gets you through this. But we're doing this to keep each other safe—to protect our families." My thoughts flashed to my father, his green eyes always tinged with worry beneath his grizzled brows. "That should be enough for both of us."

He scoffed, picking up his head to look me in the eyes.

"Remember this," Nathan suddenly snapped, pinning me with a penetrating stare. "You might wear my ring and share my name, but don't ever fool yourself into thinking you're more than what you are."

His words were a slap, cold and hard, and they stung far more than I wanted to admit. But I squared my shoulders, refusing to let him see just how deep the cut went. "And what is that, Nathan? Please, enlighten me."

His lips twisted into a cruel smile, and he closed the distance between us until I could feel the heat radiating from his body. "A pawn. A tool. An asset." Each word was a deliberate strike, meant to wound, to remind me of my place in this dangerous game we played. "On paper, you'll be my wife," he said, voice low and lethal. "But in reality, you'll always just be my whore."

I flinched, but before I could formulate a response, he moved–swift and smooth.

And just like that, he was gone.