Page 30 of Angel of Light (Lords of The Commission: New York #5)

Then again, maybe he didn’t know I was Vincenzo’s fiancé, or that move alone would have been reason to start a war.

“You’re too kind, Don Lazzaro, but I know better than to stand in the way of my brother’s deals,” I replied, trying to defuse a possible sticky situation.

He pulled out a chair for me, and as I turned to sit down, added to Max’s attentive gaze, Vincenzo’s was beaming just as hot and furious. My future husband was on edge tonight, and a part of me was itching to take advantage of it.

Good. Let them boil. Let them feel a fraction of what I’d just swallowed while watching Zoe’s paws all over what wasn’t hers to touch, taking it like the good fucking mafia princess, prim and poised.

“Like eating blades for breakfast,” As Max had said, if I remember correctly.

How dangerous of a game would I be playing if I leaned into Don Lazzaro’s compliments and watched both Vincenzo and Max seethe without a possibility to act?

I might just be craving danger tonight.

I knew exactly what I was doing when I let Don Lazzaro pull my chair out for me. I might have even batted my lashes extra hard to earn me the honor.

The touch of his hand on the small of my back came as a plus, even though it wasn’t intimate.

It was calculated. Smooth. Old-school polite.

Like the man himself. All charm and steel beneath a designer suit, a polished predator with a voice like velvet, and a mind sharp enough to bleed out nations with a single nod.

And tonight? He was sitting so close to me that I could taste his cologne.

Perfetto.

Max hadn’t stopped watching me since he realized the party had an extended guest list, and I wasn’t about to let that burn behind his eyes go to waste.

Francesca leaned into my ear, making sure Lazzaro was too occupied talking to his brother to hear her, “What are you doing?”

Her voice was laced with both concern and amusement, and I couldn’t help the little smile from spreading my lips. She was too smart for her own good, and I knew she could read right through me.

“Playing with fire and ice at the same time,” I said, referring to Vincenzo’s wrath and Max’s restraint. Who would snap first?

“You remember?” Her excitement had her voice hitching a bit too loud.

“Shh. I do. But please don’t say anything. I need to figure this out by myself.”

She made a movement of locking her lips and tossing the key over her shoulder. She’d never agreed to this engagement, not to mention that I knew she felt guilty for playing a part in it. Even if unknowingly.

“You’ve done well for yourself,” Matt said, breaking our conversation as he took his seat at the head of the table. “Florida was chaos five years ago. Now it runs smoothly and on schedule.”

Lazzaro shrugged, sipping on what I could only guess was a glass of my brother’s favorite Macallan. “I bring order. People like order.” His eyes slid to me and stayed there. “And beautiful things.”

Vincenzo didn’t hide the way his jaw tightened as he took the vacant seat to my right. “We’re here to talk business, Lazzaro.”

Lazzaro kept his eyes trained on me, the innuendo in his words serving my purpose so well that it couldn’t be faked better. “Business is always better with good company.”

I smiled politely, but I didn’t flirt back. I didn’t have to. Lazzaro was doing enough for both of us. I forced myself to keep my gaze on the glass of red in my hand as I swirled it, avoiding the temptation to look back at Max’s eyes.

He still hadn’t moved since he had chosen a spot right behind me to stand guard. I thought that, as my brother’s soon-to-be second, he’d be taking a place at the table. Yet this setup suited my vengeful plan a lot better.

He stood just behind Vincenzo’s chair. I could see him from the corner of my eye, one hand resting lightly at his side while the other was tucked behind his back. Probably feeling up the gun I knew he’d stashed there like he was waiting to sprint into action at the slightest sign of menace.

Lazzaro leaned in, elbow on the table. “So this is the infamous Alison Battaglia?” he asked, grinning at me. “Matteo, you didn’t say she was this stunning. Definitely didn’t get her looks from you. How old school is the Battaglia family? Still follow old traditions like marriage alliances?”

“You’d be wasting your breath.” Vincenzo’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Lazzaro laughed, and I almost spat out my wine at his next words, “I don’t see a ring on her finger.”

Sore spot, for sure. That damn ruby was horrendous, yet what burned the most was the fact that Vincenzo couldn’t parade me as the future Mrs. Massimo because I supposedly didn’t remember I was engaged to him. Cherry on the fucking cake if you ask me.

Max shifted at Lazzaro’s blatant flirting, but I was almost positive he was more bark than bite. It was just one step forward. But I noticed, and Matt noticed, too.

“Max,” My brother said without looking at him, his Don tone neatly set in place, “stand down.”

“I haven’t moved,” Max replied, his voice even and purposely neutral. But the ice in those glacial orbs was enough to chill me to the bone and drive a shiver down my spine.

Because he had moved. He was closer. A little too close. Like he might put himself between me and Lazzaro, just in case.

Lazzaro looked up at him, amused. “Relax, soldier. I’m just being friendly.”

“Try being respectful,” Max sneered, and that shiver grew a tail and settled right on my now throbbing clit.

That was enough to bring the whole table to a standstill. There was no forgetting who these men were. Despite the apparent friendly display, the only alliance a mafioso had was with his own blood.

Vincenzo gave him a slow, annoyed look. “That’s enough.”

Max didn’t answer, just stepped back into his spot, the hand he had at his side now bunched into a fist, ready to pound both of them.

Lazzaro smirked, then turned back to me. “You must be very special to have so many men on edge around you.”

“Or maybe you just talk too much.” My mouth was, as always, running on a different speedometer than my brain.

Matt chuckled under his breath, followed by Francesca, giving me the armor I needed to smirk at him and wink away any possible grudge.

“If you were anyone else, that mouth of yours would have been your demise by now. But touché.” Lazzaro smiled at me, wide and blinding, tilting his glass to clink with mine.

Who said it hadn’t been already?

“The night is still young.” I swear to God it was this place. It filled me with a boldness that I didn’t know I had. Like the power inbred in these walls transferred from my grandfather’s ghost to me.

“Don’t close your eye when you aim. Definitely not when you shoot.”

What? His voice sounded in my ear as if he were standing right next to me, the weight of a gun making my hands fall to my lap. Tears sprinted to my eyes, and I forced myself to blink them back.

“I hear you’ve come with a proposal,” Matt chimed in, cutting my thoughts. Straight to business before the waitress could set down the first plate of appetizers.

I forced myself to focus and be engaged in the moment, but that thought was just as loud as a whisper, catching me off guard and destabilizing me for a moment.

“Word gets around fast.”

“Especially when it might shake the foundations of our sacred Commission,” Matt said, swirling his own Macallan like he was bored, but I knew better. He was listening extra carefully now.

“The Commission was built when the families could be counted on a single hand. Now, the empire stretches like never before. More families. More regions. More money.”

“More problems,” Francesca added, crossing her legs with a casual elegance that disguised the badass mafiosa in her.

Lazzaro offered her a knowing grin, as if they had shared a brain cell in that moment.

“Exactly. Which is why I’ve come to suggest the expansion of The Commission.

Five seats no longer suffice. Especially when two are already occupied by the Battaglia bloodline.

” Three. I mentally corrected. If only he knew I’d be marrying Don Massimo soon.

Vincenzo’s arm slid over the back of my chair. Was it a way to stake a claim? The gesture was possessive and unapologetic, too intimate for two people who didn’t know each other. “You mean to say The Commission is losing its credibility?”

“I mean to say,” Lazzaro replied without missing a beat, “it’s beginning to look like a monarchy. And that never ends well in our world.”

Was that a threat? The man had balls, I had to give him that.

I sipped my wine, letting his words linger in the room like smoke, slithering its way into everyone’s pores.

“I’m not sure I appreciate the tone.”

“I’m passing on a message, Don Battaglia.

Something whispered in the privacy of each Cosca where it doesn’t feel like their interests are being represented by the men who are supposed to look out for them.

I come in peace.” He held his hands up in surrender, a placid but truthful expression on his face.

A long minute passed while my brother thought about his words and Vincenzo did his assessing thing.

I was in way over my head, and all I could think about was how hard Max’s teeth were grinding while Vincenzo’s finger danced across the naked skin on my shoulder, and Lazzaro swerved his look to me more times than I could count.

“If we add seats,” Matt said slowly, “who decides who gets them?”

“The vote, of course. Let the current seats nominate, and let us cast our choices. Transparent. Unbiased.”

“Like an election of sorts. And if the vote is influenced by personal alliances?” Francesca asked.

“Then perhaps we’ll all learn who truly believes in the old ways and who just plays pretend,” Lazzaro countered, calm and steady, sure that his proposition was about to be accepted.

The table fell silent for a beat, and I dared a glance towards Max.

My knee shifted as I turned back, brushing against Lazzaro’s. I saw the subtle way his hand flexed in his lap, giving away just a hint of his uneasiness without losing his grip on his composure.

Max’s, however, was slipping at a rapid pace.

He hadn’t moved from his post by the wall, but I felt the weight of his eyes on me like gravity. Every blink, every stolen glance between me and Lazzaro made that tension in Max’s jaw twitch tighter.

He was unraveling.

And Vincenzo?

He hadn’t spoken much since the conversation turned political, but his gaze tracked every moment like he was cataloging the whole thing. Each flicker of Lazzaro’s charm. Each breath I took too close to the wrong man.

There were two storms brewing, and I was standing in the eye of both.

Matt leaned forward, setting his glass down before speaking, “We’ll bring it to a vote.”

“I see three Dons in the Commission here. Can I get any reassurance?”

“I said I’d bring it to a vote. You’ll all just have to wait for an answer.”

Lazzaro nodded his understanding before swerving those dark eyes back to me, “Maybe I’ll take a much-needed vacation right here in New York if your brother is okay with that, and,” he picked up my hand and brought it to his lips as he spoke before leaving a kiss on my knuckles, “if you can honor me with your presence for dinner.”

The glance he spewed Vincenzo’s way was enough of a tell to show me that Lazzaro was playing a game. He knew. He definitely knew and was riling Vincenzo up on purpose.

Whatever quarrel he had with Vincenzo had been neatly packed away until right now.

“I need to freshen up.”

I rose to my feet without giving him an answer, politely pulling my hand from his and picking up my little clutch from the table.

I turned, allowing my eyes to skim Max’s unreadable face as I walked past him.

It was just a glance, but I didn’t miss the way his body shifted off the wall. The way his fingers curled into fists. The way his stare pinned me like a bullet without a trigger while I strutted away with a lifted brow and an extra sway in my ass. Triumphant in the punishment I knew was coming.