18. Chapter Eighteen Abby

Chapter Eighteen: Abby

T he air in the Zhou family's sprawling dining room felt tight, like a rope being pulled to its snapping point. I watched as Justin introduced Derek to Nathan, his voice barely above a whisper, and I couldn't help but notice the stark tension etched into Nathan's expression. It was a look I had seen before, during late-night calls that left him pacing and riled up; calls that made me think about the kind of life he led.

And when he'd found out the truth about me.

But I couldn't get caught up in all of that. I had a role to play and I intended to play it.

Justin had brought his boyfriend Derek. He was a tall, handsome man with boyish features, red hair and freckled skin. He did his best to mask how uncomfortable he felt, but it was easy to read him. He was nervous enough to wipe his hand on his jeans before he extended it as I introduced myself.

"Hey," I said, approaching Derek with a smile that I hoped looked more genuine than it felt. "I'm Abby, Nathan's—girlfriend." The word ‘fiancée' had almost slipped out, and it felt like…too much.

"Derek," he said, then his gaze found Nathan behind me. "You're his girlfriend?"

"Yeah," I said, craning my neck to look at Nathan too. Then I dropped my voice to a whisper. "Looks like we both got lucky, huh?"

Derek laughed, his features relaxing.

As I spoke with Derek, Justin slinked away toward his father. Even from this distance, I could see the urgency in Justin's posture, the way he leaned in close to mutter something that made Kenny's eyes narrow.

"Thought it would be good to bring him in," Justin said in Mandarin, his tone low enough that only those meant to hear could catch it. "Might be in danger too. After the bombing…I want him safe, Ba."

The words clung to the air, heavy with implications that sent a shiver down my spine despite the warmth of the room. I glanced at Nathan, trying to gauge his reaction, but his face was now a carefully constructed mask, revealing nothing. I wondered then, not for the first time, what sort of danger lurked in the shadows of the Zhou family, ready to ensnare anyone who got too close.

The tension in the air was thick enough to suffocate us as Nathan moved silently through the room. He stopped next to me, and I felt the cool brush of his breath on my ear as he whispered, "Derek is in more danger from my father than from anyone else."

My heart skipped a beat, the warning a chilling caress against my skin. Before I could press for details, Evelyn clapped her hands, breaking the sinister spell that had momentarily fallen over the gathering.

"Everyone, please take your seats. Dinner is served," she announced, her voice warm.

We all shuffled obediently to the large dining table. As plates were passed and bowls of steaming food made their rounds, I found myself seated across from Derek, who looked like a deer in the headlights.

"So, Derek, tell me about yourself," I said, attempting to break the ice. His red hair stood out starkly against the sea of glossy black hair. He glanced at Justin, seeking a silent cue before answering.

"Uh, I'm studying architecture at UCSF," Derek replied.

"Interesting," I nodded, keeping my tone light. "Designing any buildings I might know?"

"Still in the theoretical phase," he chuckled nervously, easing a bit under my friendly inquiry.

I smiled but couldn't ignore the tightness in my chest, an echo of Nathan's warning.

Kenny was completely silent–and I was quickly learning that that was usually a bad thing.

As the meal progressed, conversation ebbed and flowed with practiced ease, yet there was an unmistakable edge to every word spoken. We navigated through the niceties, each of us aware that a single misstep could trigger disaster.

In the midst of exchanging pleasantries, I caught Kenny's eyes flicking toward Derek with a sharpness that didn't feel at all like part of his calm demeanor. It was then I realized the true depth of the peril Derek faced; he wasn't just an outsider—he was a liability in Kenny's eyes, and liabilities in the Triads were dealt with ruthlessly.

Fuck .

"Abby," Evelyn called from the other end of the table, drawing me back into the moment. "How's your job search going? Found any museum openings?"

"Still looking. It's very competitive," I started. "But I'm optimistic."

"Good girl," she smiled approvingly, turning her attention to her daughter. "Don't spend too much time on it, though. You have more important things to worry about, and you can always look after the wedding. How are you and Nathan getting on with finding a ring? The family is eager for a wedding."

I glanced at Justin, noting his slight frown. He knew, just as I did, that the family's eagerness was less about romance and more about alliances…and Kenny couldn't be happy about his kids bringing in outsiders left and right.

"We've been looking," I said, plastering a smile on my face. "That's also taking longer than I thought."

Before I could elaborate, a sudden interruption came from the head of the table. Kenny, who had been quietly observing the exchanges until now, fixed his gaze on Justin with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Justin," he began in Mandarin, his tone sharp like the crack of a whip, "why have you brought this outsider into our home?" His eyes flicked dismissively toward Derek, who sat in ignorance of the words spoken against him.

"Ba, we should speak English," Justin insisted, switching languages with a pointed look. "Derek is my guest. He's…"

Kenny's face reddened, and I couldn't tell if it was from anger or shame. "He's not welcome," he continued in Mandarin. "This is my home and you should know better."

I feigned ignorance, even though I could feel the tension ramping up. I hadn't thought it could get worse–but here we were, hurtling toward disaster.

"Then explain to me," Justin's voice rose, his hands clenching into fists on the tablecloth as his speech got faster, harder for me to discern. "why is Derek different from Abby? Why does she get a pass?"

"Don't be naive, boy. You know why," Kenny shot back, his words cold and deliberate. The room seemed to shrink with those syllables.

"Tell me then!" Justin challenged. He was speaking in English, too flustered for Mandarin, his jaw set hard. I could feel the battle lines being drawn.

"Abby might also be an outsider, a white girl who has no job and no prospects," Kenny said in Mandarin, turning his gaze toward me, "But she can give the family heirs."

The statement hung there, stark and undisguised. It wasn't just about bloodlines; it was about legacy, about continuation—things that mattered more than love or affection in their world.

I didn't have time to even bristle at the insulting words, at how cutting they were. Even if I had, I wouldn't have been able to show it; as far as the Zhou family was concerned, I didn't speak a word of Mandarin.

From my peripheral vision, I noticed Derek's hand slide across the table, finding Justin's. Their fingers intertwined beneath the surface. Quiet but defiant.

My eyes met Nathan's across the table. He sat like a statue, his black eyes unreadable, but a tension coiled in him ready to spring. His gaze bore into his brother, but from the way his fist was clenched, I could tell he was watching his father.

As Justin opened his mouth to argue again, my phone shattered the argument, silencing everyone. Its shrill ringtone felt like a scream, jerking everyone's attention toward me. My heart skipped. I glanced at the screen—an unknown number.

"Sorry," I murmured, silencing it.

I knew who it was, and I knew she wasn't going to leave me alone. I was hoping she'd get the hint…but it rang again, persistent, demanding to be answered. I sighed. "I have to take this."

Excusing myself from the table, I stood, aware of the curious stares tracking my every move.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Harper, it's Diane. You need to answer your phone when I call," came the sharp reprimand from my superior.

Her voice was like a splash of cold water, bringing back a rush of reality. "This isn't a good time," I replied, keeping my voice low. I couldn't afford slip-ups, not with so much at stake, not with the tense scene I'd just stepped away from.

"Is there a fight going on back there?" Diane's voice cut through the tension in my next breath, her question sharp and direct.

"Something like that," I answered, brushing off the concern in her tone. "A family dinner got a little heated over politics, the usual."

"Well, this is more important than that," she said. "You have to make time to pick up the phone. Listen, we can't keep doing this over the phone. It's time we finally met face to face."

I nodded, even though she couldn't see me. "Agreed," I said, my gaze flickering back to the doorway where muffled voices argued with increasing intensity. The weight of my duty settled heavy on my shoulders. "But not right now, Diane. I'm in the middle of a—" I paused, searching for the right word that wouldn't give away too much, "—a shitstorm."

"Fine," Diane responded, her tone softening just a fraction. "Handle it. But when you're clear, we meet. No more delays."

"Understood." My response was automatic, drilled into me from my time at Quantico. I ended the call swiftly, sliding the phone back into the pocket of my dark jeans.

I re-entered the dining room and it was…weird.

Justin stood, his posture rigid with defiance. Nathan loomed beside him, his expression a mask of serenity as he put a gentle hand on Justin's shoulder. As if sensing a rising storm, Kenny rose from his seat, his eyes darting between his sons.

"Justin," Nathan's voice was low, almost soothing, despite the chaos around them. "This isn't the place. You should go."

But Justin wasn't having any of it. He shrugged off Nathan's restraining hand. "I thought you were better than this, Nathan," he spat out, disappointment sharpening his words.

Nathan flinched, the slightest wince betraying a crack in his stoic face.

"Let's just leave," Justin said, his voice softer now, resigned. He reached for Derek, fingers intertwining with his boyfriend's as if drawing strength from the contact. They didn't look back as they strode toward the door, an unspoken pact sealed between them. "I hope you're proud of yourself, Ba. I'm never coming back here."

He said it in English, maybe to make me understand, maybe for Derek's benefit.

But whatever it was for, when he slammed the door behind himself, it sounded like a gunshot.

And for a second, when I looked at The Golden Serpent's face, it looked like it might as well have been.