Page 36 of Angel of Light (Lords of The Commission: New York #5)
MAX
The Marquis always smelled like blood money, corruption, and entitlement.
All the above suited Vincenzo to perfection. There was nowhere else he’d rather be than in an environment that would mask his ugly and morph it into refinement and status.
Money equals power, and power writes the rules. That’s where my dearest brother always wants to be.
In total control.
Leaving Alison to come here after having her writhing beneath me, crying out my name, and coming so hard she blacked out, was like a sick joke. At least her scent still lingered on my skin, and all it took was one sharp inhale for her to settle back to be the center of each one of my thoughts.
But what I came to do required focus.
I inhaled a steadying breath, watching as the digital panel flicked through the floor numbers.
The elevator chimed softly as it reached the penthouse floor. I flexed my knuckles once, then again before it was time for the line of soldati I knew would be standing guard.
Dumb and Dumber, aka Fabio and Fabrizio.
They always hated it when I called them that.
Either way, sharing a brain cell granted them the endearment, and I was all for pushing their limits.
They were loyal to a fault, I had to give them that, but diplomacy and business certainly weren’t among their strongest suits.
I stood in the elevator a while longer, doors open, the light spilling into the hallway. I paced my breathing, listening to the faint metallic sounds of their guns as they clicked off the safety while I waited for the right time to pop out like a jack-in-the-box.
When no one came out of the elevator, Fabio and Fabrizio did exactly what I expected. Slowly, they approached the open cabin, one silently cautious step at a time.
Fabio reached the edge of the elevator first, his neck stretching to peek inside while his hand gripped a Beretta with iron force. He was more than ready to shoot if I so much as blinked wrong.
Instead, I met him with a smile.
Fabrizio flanked him half a second later, his boots too polished as usual. His meticulously placed scowl granted his huge build a menacing look. I’d bet good money that he rehearsed that look in the mirror every night since his dick grew pubes.
Despite the danger sign hanging off their necks, these men were nothing but puppies to me. The kind that followed their master around, waiting for a head scratch or a treat. Vincenzo kept them starved as always, and they were too thick to see it.
“Well, well,” Fabio muttered, peering into the lift like it was a tomb. “If it isn’t the wrong Massimo.”
“How long have you been planning that line?” I asked, finally stepping out, hands loose and empty at my sides, armed only with a smirk. “It’s cute.”
Fabrizio cocked his head. “Aren’t you too unwelcome to be here?”
“Yeah. And still, the welcome committee is waiting for me. Because nothing screams intimidation louder than two walking protein shakes with matching brain activity.”
Fabio’s lip curled. I knew he wanted to laugh because, once upon a time, we had actually been friends. But now, it was all animosity and a thirst for blood.
“Still got that mouth on you,” He drawled.
Fabrizio let out an annoyed sigh before speaking, “You know what I hate, Max?”
“Literacy?” I offered. Jesus! I had to stop myself from laughing at my own words. My angel was starting to rub off on me, and I had to admit that this lighter side of the darkness was so much more entertaining.
“Smartasses who think their blood gives them a free pass,” Fabrizio corrected.
“Don’t worry,” I said, stepping closer. “I paid my dues with mine already, but if you think it’s not enough, I can always spare the extra change with yours.”
That did it.
Fabrizio moved first. He always had been the hothead.
He lunged, trying to grab me by the collar like I was some street punk.
I turned, twisting out of his grip and jamming my elbow into his ribs.
The grunt that left his chest was like fuel to my raging fire.
Fabrizio stumbled sideways with the hit, giving way for Fabio to make his move.
He was more calculated, less wild than his cousin was. I saw the punch coming but didn’t dodge it fast enough. His fist caught the side of my jaw, the taste of copper immediately filling my mouth.
“Fuck,” I muttered, spitting blood as I stumbled back.
“Sorry about the face, pretty boy,” Fabio said with a grin.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I threw my weight into a kick that knocked him backward into the wall. I marched right after him, walking into the hall as Fabrizio recovered behind me.
He charged at me like a damn bull, and this time I let him come. At the last second, I dropped low, grabbed his leg, and yanked. He hit the floor with a grunt, but his hand closed around my ankle, pulling me down with him.
He didn’t wait a single second before climbing onto me, his fists flying into my torso in rapid succession.
He hit me in the ribs, hard. I felt something pop, or maybe crack, and I was positive he’d broken at least one of my ribs.
Fabrizio was a massive fucker, and if I stayed down for too long, I wouldn’t be getting off this plush carpet anytime soon.
It took all the strength left in me to thrash my hips and pin him to the ground. I slammed his head into the floor once, twice, almost made it to the third before Fabio tackled me off him.
My back hit the floor, Fabio’s massive body crashing into me, and I was never so thankful for a soft and fluffy carpet as I was today. Fabio’s knee dug into my chest, holding me in place, and for a second, all I saw were flashing lights going out before rage woke me right up.
Then I smiled. Slow and wicked.
“Hey Fab,” I gasped, blood sliding from the corner of my mouth, “Did you ever learn how to count past two?”
“Making jokes before you die isn’t going to make this any happier for you.”
“It’s not a joke.” I choked out as his hand wrapped around my throat and squeezed, “It’s a tempo count.
One.” I took the key card from his back pocket, “Two.” Second move was to pull the knife I had stashed in my boot and slash the skin on his arm, making him release me immediately, “Three, the one you still don’t know.
” With that, I reached out and stabbed it right through Fabrizio’s hand, pinning it to the floor.
Without hesitation, I jumped to my feet, ignoring the shooting pain on my side.
Straightening out my suit, I cleaned the drops of blood that dribbled down my chin before landing one last kick into Fabio’s kidney, making sure to gain me the time I needed to get inside that damn suite.
There was victory in every step I took down the hall. Revenge tasting so fucking sweet for the way they spied on me, threatened me to play nice like a fucking dog, and especially for ruining the most perfect of nights three fucking years ago by flashing a laser at Alison after I took her virginity.
Not to mention, I took their loyalty to Vincenzo like a stab in my own back. Some orders aren’t supposed to be followed. Or maybe I was wrong, because if I’d been a good little mafia soldato, I’d be married to Alison and Vincenzo’s paws would be as far away from her as possible.
I’d waited for my turn to hurt them as they deserved, and the only reason I held back and didn’t put a fucking bullet in their skulls was because their mothers deserved better.
“You’re gonna bleed out in there,” Fabio growled behind me.
“Maybe,” I said, twirling the keycard between my fingers. “But if I do, I’m taking him with me.”
With that, I swiped the card and walked inside, shutting the door behind me.
“Took you long enough,” his voice came from the shadows.
The room was dimly lit, just the corner lamp shining a glow into the luxurious place aside from the city lights below.
He was sitting in an armchair near the window, his skull-adorned cane resting on his legs.
By the looks of it, tonight was one of those nights when his strength wavered and he needed the extra help.
It didn’t come as a surprise. He had used all his free-from-the-stick cards by faking it at that dinner party.
Other than that, he was all put together. Not a hair out of place. Not a wrinkle in his custom shirt. Picture-perfect prince of corruption. But if there was anyone on this damn earth who knew all his tells, that would be me.
A glass of whiskey dangled from his fingertips on his left hand. His flares always hit harder on his dominant side. His right leg was stretched out as if he didn’t have the strength to bend his knee and hold the position.
For a moment, I felt for the man he used to be. For the bond I thought we’d shared.
But that was Gabriel speaking. The little boy who yearned for a family. For an older brother to accept him and take him under his wing. For the fratello who understood what it felt like to be beaten within an inch of your life and left to pick up the pieces of yourself alone in a dark room.
“You’re not a momma’s boy anymore. I’m going to teach you how to become a man.”
Vincenzo had gotten it as bad as I had, protecting me more times than I could count.
No.
I couldn’t be sympathetic. I couldn’t try to see the world through his eyes because Alison’s life depended on it.
“Cut the crap, Vincenzo. You had no idea I was coming,” I muttered, stepping further in, tasting blood at the back of my throat.
“A hunch.” He conceded, knowing that he could keep up his mask and charade for anyone else’s deception, but he could never fool me. “You look like shit.”
I thought I saw a smile trying to spread his lips, but soon enough, it turned into a grimace.
“I came from a fight, but I’m sure you already know that, seeing that you gave them free reign,” I said. “Your two watchdogs didn’t roll over when I asked nicely.”
“I told them to keep you out at all costs. We might need to revise the definition later.”
“And I told them to fuck off.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re bleeding all over my carpet.”