Page 22 of Angel of Light (Lords of The Commission: New York #5)
MAX
I’d seen Alison shattered before.
I’d held her through the fallout of discovering things that tore her life apart. Through the kind of silence that only comes after screaming. After crying your heart out, just like she was doing when I found her falling apart in her car at AD.
But tonight? There was no storm in her eyes. No trembling in her hands. Only stillness.
There was peace in those pools of green.
Like meeting her half-sister hadn’t deepened the wound like she was expecting, but stitched it up, instead. At least to some extent.
“Penthouse suite. Here’s your key, Sir. The elevator to the left will take you right to your room. Enjoy your stay,” The receptionist said with a smile after handing me a gold keycard.
It wasn’t that long of a drive back to New York, but I needed Alison to myself for just a bit longer. We’d have to go back to reality soon. Wake up and smell the damn coffee stained with blood and wedding vows.
Oh, how I was looking forward to that!
Alison was lost beside me, taking in the space and all its exuberant tackiness. I could see the spew of reproving comments running wild in her brain with each new face she pulled. I was already internally laughing at the thought of what could come out of that pretty mouth of hers.
Alison’s humor was a shield, sure, but it was also part of her charm and who she was.
And Jesus, was she glorious!
“Shall we?”
I placed my hand on the small of Alison’s back and led her across the foyer, where the gold doors of the elevator glistened under the sparkles of light beaming from the chandelier.
This whole place was a bit over the top, but it would suit its purpose.
Besides, I was enjoying the little face Alison was pulling as she took it all in.
Her nose was scrunched in disgust, and I knew the Dornier architect in her was in agony, trying to keep those comments that had popped up into her mind from spilling.
I wasn’t sure the grotesque amount of bling flashing in this space deserved such decorum.
“Come on, say it,” I whispered as we waited for the elevator doors to open.
Alison stared at me for a few seconds until she couldn’t hold it back anymore. “It’s like they wanted opulence to punch you in the corneas.”
As soon as the words were out, Alison laughed, her whole face lighting up with a carefreeness I’d been missing seeing on her for a long time now. I wasn’t sure if I was laughing at her joke or if I was contaminated by her giggles.
Before she could quiet, I stopped and looked at her.
Damn, she’s beautiful in her light.
I let my hand find hers, our fingers intertwining like we were lovers while I swept a strand of her hair behind her ear. Alison wrapped her fingers around my hand, and I swear to fucking God, my heart almost came to a stop.
How were we supposed to go back? How was I expected to hand her over to that cunning motherfucker? I needed more of this parallel reality where she wasn’t engaged, and I wasn’t a death sentence.
We walked into the elevator, my eyes stuck on her the entire time, and she caught her breath. Her gaze settled on mine, noticing the sudden seriousness that had taken over my features.
Who could blame me? I wanted her so damn much, but the reminder that this had an expiration date soured me to my marrow. I couldn’t help but feel the guilt of shoving her into Vincenzo’s arms from wrapping around my throat and choking the living hell out of me.
“Are you okay?” She asked, her voice laced with a honey tone that melted me further into the damn elevator floor.
“I should be the one asking you that.” But for some fucked up reason, I was the bothered one while Alison radiated peace. “Twenty questions?”
She chuckled, her eyes shining brighter than the morning fucking sun. “If we keep all the rules in place, sure.”
The doors to the penthouse suite dinged open, and we walked into the space that was equally as awful as the foyer.
It was like a parallel universe made out of diamonds, gold-plated surfaces, and bad taste.
But that was what we needed, right? An alternative reality to the one my damn fucked up decisions had thrust us into.
The love of my life, about to marry another man.
I looked at the way she swayed deeper into the suite while I shrugged my jacket off and threw it onto the couch.
“My God, isn’t this the most abhorrent hotel you’ve ever been in?” She laughed, her fingers tracing the golden surface of the side table.
While she naturally focused on the decor and architecture of the damn place, all I could see was her.
My chest tightened. A gnawing, hollow ache stabbing me right in the center. She is everything I could ever dream of wanting, and here she was. Yet, so far out of my reach that I couldn’t see a way to grasp her into my hold, even if my fingers were now lacing with hers.
“Beautiful,” I whispered in reply as I hugged her from behind, placing a kiss on the side of her head. “Any place where I have you to myself is the most amazing place on Earth.”
“That wasn’t a question,” She teased, turning to me, her hand snaking up the nape of my neck and burying in my hair. “What did you want to ask me?”
“Why did you make everyone believe you still haven’t gotten your memory back?”
“Not everyone. I told you.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I don’t know,” She shrugged, tearing away from me, and all I wanted was to go back ten seconds in time to have her in my arms again.
“I need time. I’m done living my life for others.
It’s time I think about living for myself, you know?
Not remembering was strange at first, but it also brought me peace and a blank slate.
Like I was allowed for a moment to draw whatever I wanted, trace my own path. ”
“We can still do that,” I replied, stalking closer towards her like she was a magnet to my pole.
“Can we? How am I supposed to break off an engagement with a Mafia Don? How am I supposed to put everyone in danger for the sake of my happiness?”
“We will find a way,” I reassured her, bringing her close to me again and placing a small kiss on her tender lips.
“My turn. You said your real name is Gabriel. What did you mean?” Of course she’d go straight for the jugular.
“That my real name is Gabriel,” I replied matter of factly on purpose, hoping it would buy me some time to think of how I was going to survive this conversation.
“That’s not an answer,” She pouted, and fuck me if my cock didn’t surge to life at that very moment. Not the right time, fucker.
“I changed schools when I was about seven. The new kids seemed to think Gabriel was too angelic for a kid who showed up to class with a black eye every other week. At least they couldn’t see the rest of it,” I shrugged, watching as Alison’s eyes widened.
“They started calling me Max after some time, and I didn’t bother to correct them,” I explained, leaving out the reason behind the given name.
“My mother wasn’t around anymore to make me believe I was as innocent as Gabriel sounded.
Imagine me, the monster mafioso with the name of an angel.
Some fallen one I became.” I couldn't help but scoff.
Her face shifted, something flickering behind her eyes. “You never told me her name.”
“I didn’t.” I wasn’t sure I could, even now.
She didn’t press. Just nodded like she understood it was still very much a jarring wound.
“Your turn.” She said, giving me a reprieve.
“Back at the apartment last night, when you were going through those pictures, you recognized Diego’s sister. How?” I made sure to leave the question as open as possible so I could get the answer I needed.
“I bumped into her.”
“There’s more to that. Spill.”
“That might cost you an extra question,” She teased, but I was too serious to fall into that little trap of hers.
“As many as you want to charge. Tell me.”
“I bumped into her at The Ritz the morning of the meeting. You know, when The Commission was deciding on Francesca’s fate.”
“That couldn’t have been a coincidence.”
“I’m sure it was. Because, in fact, it was her little son who came running straight into me. She was following him, desperate to catch him before he reached the street. She even had tears in her eyes.”
What? Her son? She was crying?
“How old was her son?” I tried keeping my voice as neutral as possible, even though my chest was tight.
“Maybe around 3 or 4. I’m not sure. I’m not that good with kids. Why do you ask?”
“It’s just information we didn’t have.” It was a half-lie. We didn’t know she had a kid, but this had nothing to do with the information we were searching for regarding the bomb. Or was it?
“You are not thinking about using the boy as leverage! I will never agree to it.”
“Of course not.” Because that boy probably wasn’t leverage, he was the engine behind this whole fucking thing.
“He was the cutest. Eyes as grey as a storm while he held his plastic gun. Some things really do run in your blood. There’s no doubt his uncle is the head of a dangerous Cartel.”
And that his father is the head of the Mafia. I said to myself.
I nudged her, signaling it was her turn to ask, hoping she wouldn’t pick up on the tornado of emotions running through me at the moment.
“You said you could understand how Adrianne felt. What did you mean?”
That was the one I hoped she wouldn’t ask. But rules are rules.
I loosened my grip on her waist and walked towards the window, staring out into the sky as it started losing its color to a brewing storm, and darkness took over. How fucking ironic!
“Because I’m a bastard, too,” I said, my voice taking on that bitter taste I knew she’d catch. Alison was too perceptive not to. “Illegitimate. A mistake,” I continued as I turned to face her again.
Her expression told me she wasn’t expecting that answer in the slightest. Still, she held her peace and merely blinked, giving me the space and time to find my words.