Serpent King's Bride: A Dark Mafia Romance Trilogy

We hit the alley running, the cool air a relief after the scorching heat we left behind. Lou stumbled beside me, his coughs echoing off the walls, each one a stark reminder of how close we’d come to a different ending.

“Never thought I’d owe my life to the flower guy,” Lou panted as we slowed, safe for the moment in the darkened alley.

“Let’s not make it a habit,” I replied, trying to steady my own breathing. In the distance, Abby’s silhouette was visible against the flickering light of the fire, waiting, watching—my anchor in this storm of ash and embers.

Emerging from the alley, the night air hit me, still warm with the distant rage of fire. The world before us was chaos incarnate—flares of orange and red danced across the ruined facade of Grant Avenue Floral, the scent of destruction thick in my lungs.

“Hey!” a voice pierced through the cacophony, edged with panic.

I turned to see Abby sprinting towards me. Her eyes, wide with fear, only found relief when they landed on me, unharmed. She crashed into me, her arms locking around my neck in a grip that said she’d never let go again.

“Never,” she breathed out, her voice a hushed urgency against my ear. “Never do that again, Nathan.”

I held her close, her heartbeat pounding against mine—a reminder that this was real, we were alive. That she still cared this much…I was constantly in awe over it.

“Promise me,” she whispered.

She pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, and I saw the fear that lingered there, the fear of losing me. Without thinking, my lips found hers, capturing them in a kiss that meant more than any we had shared before. It spoke of gratitude, of relief, of an emotion that ran too deep for words.

“Okay,” I murmured against her lips, the taste of her promise lingering between us. “Okay, Abby. Never again.”

Chapter Twenty-Three: Abby

Icould still feel the smoke in my lungs.

The stench of scorched wood and melted plastic filled the air as I took a seat next to Nathan, who was hunched over on a fold-out chair. His silhouette cut through the haze of smoke that still lingered around us. Lou sat across, wincing slightly as an EMT dabbed at the reddened skin on his arms. The man’s eyes, filled with gratitude, flickered up to meet Nathan’s.

“Man, I owe you my life,” Lou rasped, voice hoarse from the smoke. “If you hadn’t pulled me out…”

Nathan merely nodded, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the emergency vehicle’s interior. He didn’t need to speak; his actions had already said everything. And even though I knew the kind of ruthless streak Nathan could have, my heart swelled at what I’d just seen him do.

“Hey, Abby,” Lou turned his attention to me, attempting a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’ve missed you now that you’re not slinging drinks at the Red Lantern anymore.”

“Got a different gig,” I replied, trying to sound upbeat despite the somber mood. “But I’ll always have love for your place, Lou. And I’ll always be eternally grateful you gave me a chance.”

I glanced at the charred remains of what used to be Lou’s restaurant—a once cozy joint now reduced to rubble.

Lou’s face fell, his sorrow as visible as the injuries on his skin. “Was like a second home, y’know? Can’t believe it’s all gone.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, looking away to hide the emotion welling up in his eyes.

I reached out, placing a hand over his. “It meant a lot to all of us, Lou. It won’t be forgotten.”

Lou opened his mouth to say something else but clamped it shut when a voice somewhere nearby pulled him away. There was a man I didn’t recognize, about Nathan’s height and wearing a leather jacket, waving Nathan over. I watched Nathan stride across the debris-strewn sidewalk, his shoulders hunched as he coughed.

“Abby,” Lou’s voice brought me back from the sight of Nathan’s retreating figure. “Sorry, it’s just…something about that guy.”

“Who–Nathan?”

I followed Lou’s gaze to the man Nathan was speaking with—an imposing figure even from this distance, with a demeanor that suggested he wasn’t here for pleasantries. Lou’s brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing as though trying to place a half-remembered face in the dim light of the aftermath.

“Who is he?” I asked, the question hanging between us like the smoke in the air.

“Can’t shake the feeling that I’ve seen him before,” Lou muttered, more to himself than to me. His fingers tapped an absent rhythm on his knee, the telltale sign of a mind digging through memories for clues.

“Someone from the Red Lantern?” I ventured, hoping to jog his memory.

“Maybe,” he said, his voice trailing off. “Shit…yeah, definitely. Earlier this year he kept coming in with this woman–they’d always sit in the back corner, all secret-like. I’m sure of it.”

“Really?” I asked. “Like…what kind of woman?”