Chapter Four Nathan

My heart hammered in my chest as I looked at my father.

The sound of my mother's voice, warm but commanding, filled the hallway as the heavy door to the Serpent Head's office clicked shut behind us. I hadn't expected to hear that tone directed at Alex, Justin, and Lily—not when the latter two should've been buried in college textbooks, not family business.

"Justin? Lily?" I shot a questioning glance at my father as we walked towards the dining room. "What are they doing here? I thought you wanted them to finish school first."

"Extraordinary times," was all he said, his voice low and grave. "We have to protect our own, Nathan. No exceptions."

I understood. The rules were changing—a serpent shedding its skin for something tougher, more resilient.

We stepped into the dining room where the aroma of roast duck mingled with the tang of garlic in the air. My little sister Lily was placing silverware next to fine china plates, her movements graceful yet efficient. Mom was orchestrating where each dish would go, her back straight as she gave orders like a general on the battlefield.

"Boys, sit down. Dinner's almost ready."

"Sure, Ma," I said, moving to take my usual seat. As I passed by Lily, our eyes met, and she shot me a look—a mix of understanding and resignation. She knew the old-world expectations placed upon her, the silent protests we both shared about them. She'd complained about it more than once to Ma—but her protests fell on deaf ears. Ma was a traditionalist, through and through.

That meant the men sat first—and that we didn't help with dinner.

I took my place at the table, the weight of the family crown pressing on my shoulders, the dragon inked on my chest feeling more alive than ever. It was an evening like any other—yet beneath the surface, a storm was brewing, and we Zhou's, we were bracing for the impact. It could wait until after dinner, but the food only overwhelmed me, given the knot in my stomach.

Ba assumed his throne at the head of the table, with me at his right hand. Alex was already seated at Ba's left, a spot that he didn't necessarily agree with, but accepted as the second son. His eyes are hungry, eager. He'd had that itch to prove himself for years, especially with Dad's attention on me as his heir.

"Alex, tell me more about those properties in LA," Dad started, his voice low but carrying.

It was a command disguised as casual conversation—a business meeting around the family dinner table. Alex, ever the eager employee, leaned forward with a serious expression on his face.

"Well, I just purchased another condo block—waterfront," Alex started. "I…"

I tried to focus, but my thoughts shifted toward the recent attacks on our family…and, to my surprise, to a gorgeous girl with green eyes. I couldn't get her off my mind, even hours later—the girl from the cafe next door, the one who'd accepted my bouquet with a glowing smile. I found my sister watching me with a cocked eyebrow, and I cleared my throat.

"How are your pre-med classes?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

"Going well," she replied, pushing around her vegetables. Then, with a pointed glance, she added, "Well enough to know when you've been doing something dangerous." Her finger subtly gestured toward the scrape peeking out from under my sleeve, a souvenir from last night's chase.

"Nothing I can't handle," I assured her, brushing off her concern with a half-smile. But the worry in her eyes told me she wasn't buying it—never did. She knew the life we led came with risks far grimmer than failing an exam, no matter how hard Ba tried to shelter her from it.

"Just be safe, okay?" she said. "It would really suck not to have my big brother."

"Hey, you'll always have Alex," I joked.

She scowled, nose wrinkling. "I'd much rather have you than Alex," she muttered.

"Excuse me," Mom said, pushing her chair back with a grace that belied the tension we were all feeling. "I'll get dessert out of the oven." Lily rose too, her movements mirroring our mother's, a dance they'd perfected over countless family dinners—knowing when it was time for the men to talk.

"Need help?" I offered, but I was met with a knowing smile from Lily.

"Sit. We've got this," she said, and without further protest, I watched them disappear into the kitchen.

In their absence, the air in the dining room became heavy, charged. Ba set his fork down with a deliberate clink against the fine china, signaling the shift in conversation. All eyes turned to him as he leaned forward, hands clasped together on the table's polished surface.

"Listen up," the Serpent's voice slithered through the quiet. "Times are changing. We need to be more vigilant than ever." His gaze locked onto each of us, brown eyes sharp under furrowed brows. "Be careful who you talk to, who you trust, where you go. I have reason to believe we might have enemies among us…and I need you all onboard if we're going to fight this."

The words hung like an unspoken accusation, and for a moment, nobody dared to breathe. Then Justin shifted uncomfortably in his seat, breaking the spell.

"You want me in on Serpents work?" he asked, his tone laced with resistance. "But I'm supposed to—"

"Family is everything, son," Ba cut him off, voice firm as granite. "You're a Zhou before anything else. Remember that."

Justin nodded, resigned, and a pang of sympathy hit me. I knew what it was like to have your life dictated by blood and duty, to have your own dreams pushed aside for the sake of the family empire. I'd been sacrificing everything for the Serpents since the day I graduated college…and it had only consumed my life more and more. No career, no girlfriend…

…just blood.

"Understood?" Dad's question was rhetorical; we all knew there was only one right answer.

"Understood," we echoed in unison.

The clink of fine china and the soft thud of dessert plates being set down on the table pulled us back from the brink of an abyss only we knew existed. Ma's apron was dusted with flour, a testament to her work in the kitchen, while Lily's hands were clean but her eyes held stories she'd never tell. They carried a warm apple pie between them, the scent heavy with cinnamon and sugar, as if it could sweeten the sour air that had settled over us.

Apple pie and Mandarin duck…we really were the American dream.

"Dig in, everyone," Ma's voice was cheerful, but it barely masked the undercurrent of worry that laced her words.

I took a slice, the crust crumbling under the weight of my fork. It should've been comforting, this familiar end to a family meal, but instead, it sat in my stomach like lead. I watched as Justin hesitantly reached for a piece, his earlier defiance replaced by a quiet acceptance. Ba had always let us graduate from college before looping us in on the family business—but I guessed that Justin wouldn't get the same courtesy.

"Thanks, Ma, it looks amazing," Lily said, shooting me a quick glance that spoke volumes. She knew, just like I did, that the sweetness of the pie couldn't smooth out the jagged edge of Ba's earlier decree.

We ate, the room filled with the sounds of silverware against plates, as if it was punctuating the silence. Each bite was mechanical; every chew felt like a step further into a territory we all wished to avoid. But avoidance wasn't in our blood—confrontation was.

And yet, we were told to keep our eyes open, not for the enemy at the gates, but for the traitor within.

Who was it?

Could it be one of my brothers, hungry for power? A trusted general?

Threats were everywhere.

"Pass the whipped cream, will you?" Alex asked, his voice cutting through the tension. I looked up at him and met his eyes, trying to peer into his soul to see if any secrets lurked there. He had the ambition to fuck us over, but he was loyal to the family. I had to believe that if I didn't want to drive myself insane.

He cocked his head at me. "Uh…the whipped cream, Nathan?"

I swallowed hard and nodded before passing it over.

Couldn't be him.

Conversation was sparse, the usual banter that came so easily to us now choked by the threat that lurked unseen. It hung there, a specter at the feast, feeding on our unease. I caught Lily's eye again, and she gave a small nod. She was strong, ready to face whatever came. But the knowledge that danger might come from someone sharing this very table cast a long shadow over the flickering candlelight.

"Delicious as always, Evelyn," Ba finally said, breaking the silence that had settled once more. His compliment was genuine, but it was also a signal—the discussion about trust and betrayal was over for now.

"Thank you, dear," Ma replied, her smile soft but not reaching her eyes.

As the last bites of pie were finished, and the plates cleared away, the room seemed to get darker, the air heavier. The evening wound down, but the words spoken tonight would linger, heavy as the fog that blanketed the city outside our windows.

And my family would never be the same.