Chapter Forty-Nine Abby

The salty air wasn't enough to wash away the heaviness that clung to Nathan as we trudged along the beach. The sand, cool between my toes, seemed to weigh him down with every step he took. I could almost hear the burden in his sigh as he turned to me, his eyes mirroring the turmoil of the ocean.

"You okay?" I asked.

He glared at me.

"Dumb question."

"Abby," he started, and I was taken aback by the rawness in his voice, "I feel like I'm suffocating under all this—under my father's legacy."

I blinked at him, shocked by the sudden vulnerability that cracked through his tough exterior. We were just…talking. Like a normal couple.

It was wild.

Nathan, the feared Fangs Zhou, was laying bare his soul beside the crashing waves.

"It sounds like a lot," I said.

"Kenny, my father, he doesn't see us as his kids, you know? He never has." He kicked at a washed-up piece of driftwood, sending it skittering over the wet sand. "We're just pawns to him. Chess pieces in some sick game he's playing against the world."

It was jarring to hear him talk about family like this; I'd only ever heard rumors of the cold-hearted Serpent's Head, who used people without a second thought. But now, standing next to his eldest son, the human cost of that ruthlessness became painfully clear.

"Alex, my little brother, has always been in the shadows..." Nathan continued, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "I get why he might want out. Why he might turn on us. My dad was never around–got into hot water and fled to Hong Kong for years. He missed birthdays, holidays...we grew up with a ghost for a father. But we did get very nice cars when we turned sixteen."

I watched him closely, noting the clench of his jaw, the way his fists balled up at his sides.

"Sometimes, I wonder if it would've been better if he just stayed away for good," he muttered, almost to himself.

Staring at him, I felt something twist inside me, a mix of pity and an unexpected tenderness. Nathan might be part of this dark world, but he was also a man grappling with the wounds of a neglected childhood and the weight of a destiny he never asked for.

"Do you really think Alex is behind this?" I ventured cautiously, my voice slicing through the thick silence that followed his confession. We'd paused at a pier, watching families play in the surf.

Nathan's black eyes flicked toward me, and for a moment, they were unreadable pools in his tanned face. Then he shrugged, the gesture heavy with reluctant acceptance. "It's possible," he admitted. "The orders must come from someone with enough pull to anticipate our moves. But Alex..." He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. "He spends his days with his idiot crew at this motorcycle shop, more interested in engines than empires."

I leaned against the railing beside him, pretending to be absorbed in the view while my mind raced. "You know," I said with an air of nonchalance, "I'm pretty good at organizing things. It was one of my strengths in the sorority house—keeping everyone on track."

The lie rolled off my tongue smoothly, hiding my Quantico-trained background in profiling.

"Is that right?" Nathan turned to look at me, a flicker of interest lighting up his features.

"Also, Money Heist," I said. "Superfan, remember?"

"How does that help?"

"Maybe I could help you figure this out. You know, two heads are better than one and all that jazz."

For a long moment, he studied me, as if judging whether I was another piece on his chessboard or a potential ally. Finally, he nodded, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a wry smile. "Alright, Abby. Let's see what you've got."

And then, as we walked back to the apartment, he told me everything.

He told me every detail, mentioning every notable person in his organization, giving me access that was completely and totally unprecedented.

A rush of triumph surged within me, but I kept my face composed. This was it—the chance to delve deeper into the Zhou family dynamics and gather the intel I needed. And maybe, just maybe, I'd help Nathan untangle the web of deceit threatening to choke his world.

I'd take in the real menace: his father.

And then…then I would sort everything out with him. With Nathan. With my pretend boyfriend.

"Post-it notes," I said when we stepped into the dimly lit corridor of his sprawling apartment. "I need them for...brainstorming."

Nathan led me to his office—a stark room with shelves of books that spoke more of a philosopher than a feared Mafia heir. He rummaged through drawers, eventually pulling out a stack of post-it notes, their edges curled from age or disuse.

"Here." He handed them to me, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Plan your battle, strategist."

We moved to the dining table, a large expanse of polished wood that now became our war room. I peeled off the first note and pressed it flat before me. "Let's start with Xinyi Lin."

"Xinyi?" Nathan scoffed lightly, though his brow furrowed. "Ba said it was a dead-end, even though she has every reason to hate us. We killed her husband, and I beat the hell out of her son."

"What about Albert Wu? The Cranes have had beef with your family for decades."

"Albert's an old buzzard, too caught up in his own rackets to bother with us anymore." Nathan dismissed with a wave of his hand, but he was frowning now, the easy humor fading into something darker.

"Non-Triad organizations, then?" I pushed on, watching him closely. "Could someone outside the usual circles want to take a shot at the top dog?"

"Possible," he conceded, leaning back in his chair. "But they'd have to be either very brave or very stupid."

"Jack Kensington?" I ventured, testing waters that might be too deep even for me. "You said something about San Diego ops not laundering your money."

"Jack Kensington isn't a problem," he replied. "It was a logistics issue, and it's worked out now. His dad worked with mine since we were kids and their family is more loyal than half my father's blood relatives."

"Alright." I nodded, scribbling more names onto the sticky notes until they formed a colorful mosaic of suspicion and doubt. Each one held a possibility, a chance to unravel the mystery—or tighten the noose around my neck if I wasn't careful.

Nathan watched me work, his gaze intense but unreadable. I could feel the weight of his scrutiny, like a challenge to prove myself.

And I would.

The chime of Nathan's phone sliced through the tension. He glanced at the screen and his eyes narrowed. Without a word, he stood up, striding out of the room with a curt nod in my direction.

"Keep at it," he said, leaving me alone with the sticky notes that now felt like confessions on a wall.

Alone, I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the information I'd gathered pressing against my chest. It was a treasure trove for the FBI—names, connections, hints at internal strife within Zhou family. What to do with it though? How to get it to my handlers without blowing my cover?

I let my gaze drift over the colorful array of notes, each one a piece of the puzzle. And then, like a whisper of insight, I knew. They were looking at this all wrong back at the bureau. It wasn't about the power plays or the money; it was personal. Someone had a vendetta. The idea sent a shiver of excitement through me—I was onto something big.

And then Nathan was back, his presence filling the room even before I saw him. His face was serious, the playful edge completely gone.

"Family meeting tonight," he said, voice low but laced with authority. "I want you there."

A family meeting? That meant the inner circle, the heart of the Serpents' operation. My mind raced. This could be my chance to get closer than ever before—to gather intel that could take them down from the inside.

"Of course," I responded, keeping my voice steady despite the adrenaline that started coursing through my veins. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Nathan nodded, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips as if he sensed my anticipation. But he didn't know that it wasn't my affection for him drawing me in. No.

It was the thrill of the hunt.

And tonight, I'd be hunting the biggest game of all.

His father.