Page 13 of Angel of Light (Lords of The Commission: New York #5)

“It seems that you gentlemen have forgotten the issue that brought us here.” Vincenzo slowly circled the island, theatrically ridding himself of the protective boundary between us.

“Business is thriving. For both of us, I might add. A change in tactics for a man like Diego could only mean he’s after the bigger fish in the pond.

” He pointed at Matt, his index perfectly aligned with his eye, still holding the cane in the same hand.

“I wouldn’t rule out a personal vendetta fueling his motivation, either.

” His head turned to find Max. “Why else would Diego Alcaráz attack the biggest Mafia family in the US, in their territory, if not to take over?” Vincenzo replied, his words hanging in the silent room before he continued.

“I have no confirmation of what you are telling us, James, yet it does fall in line with the recent… events. ”

“If this is happening under your nose, shouldn’t you have had word on it already? Or are the Massimos so debilitated that they don’t even control their own territory anymore?” Max spat.

“We don’t dabble in the drug business, we only shake the powder off the hundred dollar bills. Drug routes are not on the map, Boy . I allow it to pass, but don’t control the frequency.”

“Sounds to me like California is just a northwestern state of Colombia these days.”

Ignoring Max’s provocation, Vincenzo faced Matt with a warning expression on his face.

“Your sister is in danger, Don Battaglia. This war is just starting, and we both know that Diego holds as much power and strength as you do. If he has decided to bring the war to your doorstep, be sure that he’s well prepared. ”

Was I missing something here? Why would Diego risk a healthy and thriving business only to rush into bloodshed and an unknown outcome?

“Maybe he has inside help,” Max struck again, taking a menacing step forward.

“Keep your finger pointed elsewhere, Bastardo . Being a Battaglia clearly doesn’t protect you from getting hurt,” Vincenzo replied, nudging towards me.

“That sounds like a threat, Don Massimo.” Max’s voice was laced with disdain.

“Threats are for the weak. I don’t need to warn my enemies off. I’m a doer, not a preacher,” Vincenzo replied.

It seemed like the two men had an invisible force slowly pulling them together. Each comeback drawing them closer. I could see some head-butting if they continued down this road.

“I’m sure you are. A big ass building in shambles is a pretty good testimony of your doings .”

“I’d start using my brain rather than other parts of my body before dishing out defamatory accusations,” Vincenzo bit back.

“THAT’S ENOUGH,” Matt roared, rattling my bones. It worked, though. “Max, wait for me outside.”

It was an order, no mistake there, but Max didn’t budge. His nose was flared in rage while he had his focus aimed straight at Vincenzo. A bull zeroing on the red cape.

“Max,” I called, hoping my voice would snap him out of his trance. “Max!” Finally, he averted his gaze to me, and then to Matt.

“Wait in the hall. Now.” Again, my brother’s tone was imposing.

“I’ll be outside if you need me, Don Battaglia,” Max said, collecting his suit jacket on his way to the door before turning to me, “Miss Battaglia.”

I knew he was keeping up with the needed formalities, but hearing him call me that still struck the wrong chord inside me. A thin string that pulled on the deepest, most bruised parts of my heart.

James followed Max outside, leaving me alone with the two Dons who intimately whispered to each other. Something told me I was the subject of their conversation.

“Ahem… Excuse me,” I fake-cleared my throat. “I think it’s time you two get a room. One that’s not placed inside my apartment. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go to bed and reluctantly dream of ‘hot-wired pliers,’ thanks to you.”

Matt chuckled while walking towards me, placing a kiss on my forehead and mumbling a heartfelt ‘sorry.’

“I’m looking forward to seeing you again, Miss Battaglia.

Hopefully under better circumstances.” Vincenzo placed another kiss on the back of my hand, lingering where the blood-red ruby he gave me as an engagement ring should be but wasn’t, his jaw tightening before he could grab hold of his composure with a plastic smile, “It’s truly a relief to see you unharmed.

And as far as memories go, you can always create new ones, as long as you make them better than the ones you’ve lost.”

“Now there’s something we can agree on. Death does have a way of clearing our vision.

Whatever I was doing with my life before might just not have been relevant enough to remember.

I’ll make sure not to make that mistake again.

” I winked at him before pulling my hand away from his grasp and opening the door wide enough for them to leave.

That was a line he could read in between if he chose to. For me, it was more than a warning. It would be my new way of life.

I, Alison Battaglia, had finally found what I had been running after these last few months.

Myself, and I’d be damned if I lost her again.