42. Chapter Forty-Two Abby

Chapter Forty-Two: Abby

I stood in front of the mirror, twisting a strand of brown hair around my finger before pinning it up into a bun that was more functional than fashionable. The reflection staring back at me had green eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. Nathan's mother, Evelyn, was a mystery to me—a Triad wife who played her part with grace and secrets tucked behind her knowing smile.

"Does this look okay?" I asked, turning to Nathan. He looked up from where he sat on the bed, his dragon tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve as if it were watching me too.

"You'll knock 'em dead," he said, a hint of humor softening the hard lines of his face. "Believe it or not, Ma is not one for airs. Just be yourself."

"Easy for you to say," I mumbled, smoothing down the fabric of my modest blouse. The necklace he'd given me—the subtle silver serpent wrapped around an emerald—felt cool against my skin as I fastened it around my neck. It was a small touch of elegance, a connection to him, and a reminder of the web I was entangled in.

"Eight Treasures Tea Room, huh?" I said, trying to keep my tone light. "Sounds exotic."

He grimaced. "Exotic?"

"Oh, you know what I mean!"

"Yeah, I'm just giving you shit. No, I've actually…" Nathan's brow furrowed slightly. "Never heard of it. But Ma has her spots. She likes...intimacy in her surroundings." He shrugged, looking away. For a man feared by many, it was these moments of vulnerability that caught me off guard, made my heart thrum in ways I wasn't prepared for.

I leaned down and kissed him, feeling the stubble against my lips. "Wish me luck?"

"Always," he murmured. "Not that you need it."

Stepping out into the brisk evening, I left the safety of our shared space. I drove the Mercedes Nathan had given me and ventured into Chinatown, its neon signs casting colorful shadows on the pavement.

Evelyn Zhou, queen of the Sisterhood of Vipers, was waiting.

Gripping the steering wheel, I felt a pang of vulnerability pulse through me. The gold collar that had been locked around my neck for weeks, a symbol of Nathan's claim and protection, was absent. The collar had been a weight I'd learned to find comfort in, its presence a constant reminder that someone always knew where I was, that I was never truly alone. Now, as buildings and street lights blurred past, I couldn't shake the feeling of being exposed. My fingers itched to touch the spot where the collar should be, but I forced my hands to remain steady, driving on.

Nathan's trust was a hard-earned privilege, one that stirred a confusing mix of pride and nostalgia within me. It was ludicrous, I chided myself, to miss the days when he was more possessive, more overt in his control. Yet the absence of that tightness around my neck made me feel adrift, untethered in a vast sea of uncertainty.

"Focus, Abby," I whispered, trying to banish the creeping insecurity. "You've got this."

The cozy fa?ade of the Eight Treasures Tea Room appeared almost out of nowhere, nestled between the vibrant storefronts that lined the edge of Chinatown. Its modest sign was easy to miss, the exterior unassuming.

I parked the car, my heartbeat quickening as I stepped out into the chill evening air. The restaurant's discreet charm sparked a curiosity within me—what sort of place had Evelyn chosen for our meeting? What did its quiet elegance say about the woman herself?

With a deep breath, I pushed open the heavy wooden door and crossed the threshold into a world far removed from the chaotic streets outside. The Eight Treasures Tea Room awaited, ready to unfold its mysteries.

The interior of the tea room enveloped me like a warm embrace. Intricate wooden panels and delicate silk lanterns cast a soft, inviting glow over the space. The mingling aromas of savory dumplings and floral jasmine tea tickled my senses, making my stomach rumble in anticipation.

"Welcome," a hostess greeted with a practiced smile. She carried herself with an air of grace that seemed oddly familiar, though I couldn't place her. "Do you have a reservation?"

"Uh, yes, I'm meeting someone here," I replied, scanning the room. It was odd; there wasn't a man in sight. Women sat at low tables and smiled and chatted in hushed Mandarin, enjoying their tea–a few eyes flitting to me.

It was then that it struck me—this wasn't just any restaurant; this was where the Triad wives held court.

"May I have the name?"

"Evelyn Zhou," I said, feeling a small jolt of nerves at the mention of Nathan's mother.

"Ah, Mrs. Zhou. Right this way, please."

We walked through the tea room, past tables full of women whose eyes raised to mine with secret smiles. Some nodded subtly; others averted their gaze. What was clear was that Evelyn had a certain amount of power here–and as her future daughter-in-law, I did too.

"Here we are," the hostess announced, stopping at a booth partially hidden by a carved wooden screen after we'd gone past a screen door painted with flowers. "Mrs. Zhou is already waiting."

"Thank you," I murmured, grateful for her guidance through the labyrinthine layout.

The hostess offered a polite nod before gliding away, leaving me to gather my thoughts.

This was the moment of truth.

I was about to find out if Evelyn Zhou would be our ally or our enemy.

Evelyn sat alone, serene and focused. A fine porcelain pot of steaming tea awaited on the polished surface between us, its curling vapors mingling with the scent of incense that burned from a small censer in the corner. The fragrance was familiar—a rich, spiced aroma that took me back to my initiation into the Triad's secret world. I could almost hear the whispered oaths of that night, and Mengyao Sun's gurgling final breaths.

It was a crimson stain on this beautiful place. I wondered if she'd had tea here before she died.

"Abigail," Evelyn greeted, her voice as smooth as the silk that draped her frame, a gentle smile on her face. She stood gracefully, her movements as controlled as they were welcoming.

"Mrs. Zhou," I replied, stepping forward. The proximity to power, even veiled in civility, sent a shiver of apprehension through me. My instincts as an agent flared—this wasn't just a casual invitation for tea; there was something more at play here.

Evelyn's arms wrapped around me in a hug that held the warmth of genuine affection, albeit laced with the tension of unspoken agendas. I returned the embrace, noting how she fit the role of matriarch flawlessly, yet I sensed the steel beneath the soft exterior. This was a woman who navigated the treacherous waters of Triad life with an invisible hand, her influence felt but rarely seen.

If this woman could handle Kenny Zhou, then I absolutely couldn't underestimate her.

"Please, sit," she said, gesturing to the seat across from her. The waitress had already arranged everything with meticulous care—the bone white china cups poised beside the pot, waiting to be filled.

"Thank you." I lowered myself onto the cushioned seat, smoothing the fabric of my skirt as I settled in. A fountain in the corner, beside the smoking incense, gurgled merrily, almost calming me down…not that it was enough.

It felt too engineered, like any peace would be false.

Like a trick…or a trap.

"Such a peaceful place," I commented, trying to ease the tight grip of unease that clenched within me.

"Yes, it is," Evelyn agreed, pouring the steaming tea with practiced elegance into my cup before filling her own. "A respite from the chaos outside."

"Thank you for inviting me," I said sincerely.

"Of course, dear." Evelyn's smile was enigmatic as she lifted her cup, an invitation for me to do the same. "I believe we have much to discuss."

The delicate fragrance of jasmine tea lingered between us as Evelyn set down her cup, her eyes holding mine. "How are you finding your stay with Nathan?" she asked, her words laced with genuine curiosity.

A flush warmed my cheeks, and I hesitated, cautious to navigate the conversation without offending her. "It's...different," I admitted, fiddling with the porcelain handle of my teacup. "I know it's not traditional, but—"

"Abby, dear," Evelyn interjected, her tone carrying a dismissive wave, "tradition in our family is more like guidelines than actual rules. We've always been a little unorthodox."

"Unorthodox" seemed like an understatement for living with Nathan Zhou but I wasn't exactly going to contradict her. The door creaked open, and a server entered, balancing two steaming plates of food. The scent of ginger and scallions wafted over, momentarily distracting me from the tension.

"Set them here, please," Evelyn directed with a soft smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. As the server complied, arranging the dishes with meticulous care, I noted the subtle shift in Evelyn's demeanor—the way her gaze followed every movement, sharp and calculating.

"Could you close the door on your way out?" Evelyn requested, her voice carrying an undertone of command that seemed to echo off the walls long after the server had bowed and complied, leaving us enclosed once more in our private sanctuary.

As the latch clicked into place, I felt the air shift, the pretense of casual dining hanging suspended for a moment before the weight of unspoken words pressed in around us. Evelyn turned back to me, her expression unreadable, and I sensed that our real conversation was about to begin.

Evelyn's eyes darted around the room, not settling on anything in particular, but surveying every corner as if she expected the dragon-embroidered tapestries to come alive and betray her secrets. She leaned across the table, her posture suddenly rigid with urgency.

"Abby," she whispered sharply, a stark departure from her usual poised tone, "turn off your phone."

A knot of worry twisted in my stomach. What could be so dire that it required such precautions? Nevertheless, I reached into my bag, fingers closing around the cool metal of my phone. With a press of a button, it went silent, plunging me into an apprehension that seemed far too heavy for the delicate tea room.

"Mine is already off," Evelyn said, her voice barely above a breath as she placed her own phone beside her plate, screen up–as if she was proving a point. "Show me."

I hesitantly pulled my phone out and set it down just as she had, proving that I'd turned it off. For a moment, we sat in silence, the only sounds the distant hum of Chinatown and the soft clatter of dishes from the kitchen. Then Evelyn cleared her throat, her next words slicing through the quiet with the precision of a scalpel.

"Abigail," she began, her gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that felt like a physical touch, "I didn't ask you here to talk about being a wife or how to pour tea correctly—not that there's anything wrong with your technique."

"I didn't really pour my own—"

She looked at me to cut me off.

"Right. Sorry, you were saying."

"I asked you here because I have information," she continued, her voice dropping even lower. "Information about the arsonist who has been terrorizing the Serpents."

The air between us crackled with the weight of her words. This…I hadn't expected it at all, but it made sense that she might know something. I'd truly thought she'd brought me here to discuss formalities, then I'd started to think maybe we could sway her to our side in replacing Kenny

Now, though?

It seemed she was far more dangerous than I'd ever suspected.

"You can tell me," I urged, leaning forward, my role as an FBI agent clawing its way to the forefront of my consciousness. "Do you know who is behind the fires?"

My mind raced through scenarios, linking pieces of gathered intelligence with the puzzle before me. Knuckles, fires, destabilization—all elements in a dangerous game that now teetered on the edge of revelation.

Evelyn leaned in closer, and for a moment, I glimpsed vulnerability in those brown eyes.

"Yes, Abby," she said simply. "The person behind the fires is me."