Page 21 of Angel of Light (Lords of The Commission: New York #5)

Maybe it came from guilt. From living a life that she could only ever dream about. How many meals had she skipped to be waning away enough for her neighbor to notice?

“Because you have a pure heart, Princess.” He smiled at me, his hand coming to cover mine while his eyes were filled with pride. “The question is, are you ready to do your best to fix it?”

“Now I am.”

With a nod, Max switched on the car and drove us to the address Jimmy had pulled, and within just a few minutes, we were turning into the parking lot.

The motel sat half-hidden behind a gas station, like it was trying to disappear into the scenery. The flickering neon sign spoke volumes about how run down this place was, while the busted vending machine buzzed loud enough to be heard with our windows rolled up.

It was the kind of place people ended up, not a choice. Everything about it screamed temporary, forgotten, left behind. Which made it feel fitting somehow.

My stomach twisted again at the thought.

Max parked in a spot where he could keep an eye on the room and me. His mafioso-ingrained distrust never allowing for his control to slip.

I looked at the room numbers, peeling stickers slapped on the doorframe like an afterthought, finding a faint light glowing behind the sheer curtain.

She was here.

There was relief and apprehension washing over me in equal measures. Max’s jaw was clenched tight, his eyes trained on me the whole time. There was no need to say it, I already knew this was going to be hard.

“I’ll wait here,” he finally broke his silence.

I nodded while my heart pounded a hole in my chest. My hand hovered over the door handle, and I paused before pulling it open, “She’s not going to like me.”

Max smiled at me with a sincere, sympathetic smile that told me I was right.

“Maybe. But you both need this conversation to happen. There’s no way out but through.”

He was right. It was impossible to keep lying to myself.

I stepped out of the car and made my way to room 18. My boots crunched on the gravel, the wind biting through my thin camisole like it had teeth and was out for revenge. I raised my hand to knock but hesitated for a single second. Just long enough for the door to swing open.

She stood there, backlit by the flickering lamp in the room behind her.

Adrianne.

And God, it was like looking into a mirror someone had dropped and glued back together.

Same dark hair, same high cheekbones, same expression of guarded disbelief.

The only difference was that her eyes were brown while mine were green, and her cheeks were covered in freckles that took a few years off her shoulders, only to have them slapped back on by the dark rings under her eyes.

Neither of us said anything at first. I didn’t even breathe, and neither did she.

Her eyes had gone wide at the sight of me, but when she regained her stance, they narrowed before she spoke. “You’re her, aren’t you? Jesus, it’s like you’re an upgraded version of me.”

The disdain she said it with could have had me wincing if only I didn’t understand where the acid in her tone came from.

I swallowed and nodded. “I’m Alison.”

Adrianne’s lips twisted, not quite into a smile. Her reply came out huffed as if the rest of her luck had died, and I was the reaper who’d claimed its soul. “Of course you are.”

She didn’t invite me in, but she didn’t shut the door, either.

“I didn’t come to cause trouble. I just… I needed to see you.”

She crossed her arms in a defensive stance, maybe protecting her heart from yet another blow. “Why? To make sure I’m real?”

“No.” I looked down, then back up, deciding that if I came this far, I owed myself and her to be honest. Brutally, if it came to it. “Well, maybe.”

That surprised her. Her mouth opened like she wanted to fire back something sharp, but nothing came out.

“Can I come in?”

She hesitated, then stepped back. “Fine. But I’ve already told your brother when he came by,” I froze suddenly. My brother? Was it Liam? “I don’t need or want your money. I don’t need handouts. That hasn’t changed.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” I clipped, my damn mouth running faster than my brain, as usual, as I took in the room’s condition. “Look,” I started, keeping my tone neutral and trying to wave a white flag of truce, “I didn’t come here to argue or flash money at you.”

“Then why are you here? To gloat? To see the version of yourself you never want to become?” She was angry and had all the right to be, but I wasn’t the one to blame.

Fuck, if I hadn’t done the exact same thing.

“After your brother left, I fought my curiosity for a long time before I gave in and looked him up. There wasn’t much to see. No social media, just a few business articles.”

And just like that, I knew that it had been Matt, the bile rising in my throat at the realization, tasting a whole lot like betrayal. How could he not tell me?

“Yeah, Matt’s an extremely private person. He doesn’t have social media.”

What would he even post about? A new gun deal? Pictures of a few tortured men to spread the word about his ruthlessness? Or maybe a photograph of his dumb sister, looking naive and gullible behind a damn engagement ring?

“That made me dig deeper. There had to be a reason for that, right? An ugly, terrible reason that could put my envy and grudge back into the box it had been sitting in for my whole life.”

My heart raced in my chest at her words, my hands becoming clammy at the prospect of her knowing who, or rather, what we are, and going to the police. It wouldn’t end well, either way. They’d kill her if she ever tried.

Panic traveled my body as I looked back to where Max sat in the car waiting, searching for some peace in his placid face.

“I found you and your other brother.” She carried on, “The one who beat a man to a pulp at a party at the Guggenheim about a year ago. Why would I ever want that to be my family?”

A relieved exhale left my throat as I turned towards her again.

“Because that man was trying to rape the love of my brother’s life, and I’m glad Liam had the balls to do something about that slimeball, no matter the consequences.

I’m confident enough to say that he’d do the same if I was in her shoes, or if you were, for that matter.

That’s the kind of family you have.” I accentuated that last word.

Adrianne’s eyes were filled with astonishment and regret. I could see it in the way her eyebrows pinched together at the center of her forehead.

“I’m sorry,” She said, her shoulders slumping in guilt, “I shouldn’t have judged.”

“No, you shouldn’t, but I’d be a hypocrite if I said I hadn’t done the same.

There’s no reason to sugarcoat it because if there’s anyone who can understand me, it’s you,” I started.

Just as Max had said, there was no way out but through it.

“I had no idea you existed until recently. And that was not the only discovery I made that day. Turns out our father didn’t want me, and up until right now, that was the emotion driving me.

That rejection, the pain of not being wanted.

That’s what I based my feelings towards you on. ”

Adrianne stared at me, her eyes softening at the confession I was sure hit extremely close to home before she walked deeper into the room and sat on the edge of the bed.

“He was in love with your mother when mine got pregnant with me,” I continued, following her lead and sitting on the bed across from her, “So all I heard when I learned that you existed was that the man I’d been trying to please since I was a little girl, the man I wanted to be loved by the most, didn’t even fucking want me.

And you know what? I hated you for it. I hated you because his voice went soft as soon as he found out about you.

He wanted to care for you. Bring you to New York to help you and get to know you.

I hated you because you were taking my place.

” My voice broke as I fought back the tears.

“I hated you because it was easier than hating him. I didn’t want you to exist. It’s ugly, but it’s true. ”

“I was taking your place?” She scoffed, incredulous, but her voice had let go of the disdain it held only a minute ago, “Do you know how hard it is to live without knowing who your father is? To wonder if you have siblings and wish that they would show up for your seventh birthday? By the time I was thirteen, I didn’t care anymore, because not caring was easier than knowing you’re not wanted.

How do you think I feel when that sister shows up when I’m at my worst, looking like the version of me that I know I’ll never be? Not after the life I’ve had.”

Her pain sat on top of mine, layering it, or maybe even upgrading it into something heavier. It didn’t cancel my hurt, it just… matched it. And maybe that was the point.

“You can change that, you know? I know he offered you a job at his firm, at AD. I thought you were going to take it.”

Adrianne shook her head repeatedly with conviction, showing me that she’d never had her heart set on taking the position.

“I told you, I don’t need handouts.”

“It’s not a handout if you work for it.” I couldn’t stand by and watch her sink like this, especially since she’d been doing all she could to stay afloat, but her life had been one constant tempest. There were more similarities to us than just our looks, I was sure, and if my sixth sense was right, she’d respond to a challenge instead.

“If you can’t get the job done, just say so, but I thought someone who’d been surviving this whole time was a lot more resourceful. ”

Adrianne looked at me, her eyes narrowing while her lips quirked into a small smile. “I see what you’re doing.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” I replied behind an obvious smirk.

“That’s not charity?”

“I came here with my heart set on finding a reason to hate you without guilt, hoping to find a gold digger worth keeping away from my family, from the company, from me. Convincing you to take the job our father offered you was definitely not on the agenda. It’s his way of helping you?

Absolutely, but you’ll have to pull your weight. ”

“What changed?” She asked, her eyes falling to her thumb that rubbed circles into her palm.

“You kinda ruined it by appearing to be a decent person who doesn’t deserve the hardship.

Maybe guilt for having a privileged life while my sister sleeps under the watchful eye of the Crying Boy.

” I pointed to the depressing print of what I think might be the most popular painting in the world. Cursed, probably, too.

Adrianne laughed, short and tired like she hadn’t used it in a long time, “At least you’re honest. If I say yes, what does that mean?”

“It means you get a fresh start. You come to New York, you take the job, and you meet everyone. You meet Matteo and Liam, your brothers. You let yourself have a family, if you want it. Not because it fixes everything. But maybe because it could be something good.”

There was fear in her eyes, wariness from a life that had never given her a damn thing to hold onto.

Even if what I was offering her was a chance, I could understand the weight of the decision I was asking her to make.

You need to be prepared for your life to change, and sometimes you’re just not there yet.

Hopefully, she was at that turning point.

“I resent him, you know? Life could have been kinder if he was around.”

“I know. But that doesn’t mean there’s no space in your heart for anything else.” I stood up and scribbled my phone number on the small paper pad on the bedside table. “I’ll leave you to think about it. Call me with whatever you decide?” She nodded, and I headed towards the door.

“Alison?”

I turned around, finding the paper in her hand, her eyes trained on my handwriting.

“I didn’t want you to exist, either,” She confessed, “But I’m glad you do.”

And just like that, things between us didn’t feel broken.

They just felt new.