Page 48 of Angel of Light (Lords of The Commission: New York #5)

MAX

“You’re late,” Alison hissed, her gaze not even meeting mine as she made her way down the stairs of her apartment building towards the car where I stood waiting for her.

“And you’re beautiful.” My reply made her stop right in front of me, her eyes landing on mine right then. The look of disgust on her face was forced, and my little compliment was enough to break through the little mask she’d put on today.

“Don’t think the fact that I’ve sucked your dick grants you permission to blur these lines again. Stay professional or stay home.”

“I’m going by the fact that you love me, not that you sucked my dick. But that was good, too.” She had an extra dose of feist today, and if that’s the game she wanted to play, I’d more than happily follow her lead.

But I knew that both her sass and humor were tools she often used to mask the feelings she deemed too ugly or too intimate to show the world, and right now, I wasn't a welcome spectator.

“We all make stupid mistakes in life, don’t we?”

“And loving me is a mistake?”

“No. Loving a man who doesn’t exist is. But give me a couple shots of rum, a night at the club, and a man who can make me squirm in pleasure, and I’ll get over it quickly enough.”

She was aiming for destruction, and all I could do right now was smile and take it like a good fucking boy. But sooner or later, I’d make her eat those words. I’d make her beg for forgiveness and crawl to me before I relented and fucked that stupid idea out of her.

Because there is no one who can make her forget, right?

She was carved into my soul and I sure as fuck hoped I’d managed to at least touch hers.

I smiled back politely, biting my tongue so it wouldn’t run away with the thoughts coursing through my brain.

“I thought Jimmy and James were accompanying me today before Matt met us there.”

“Change of plans. Francesca spent the night in the hospital. Apparently nothing serious, but Don Battaglia thought it was best to stay with her. Jimmy and James are waiting in the car.”

“Well, if they are here, we don’t need you to come. We’re not going to war, I’ll be perfectly safe with my brother’s men. Oh, wait, are you here on behalf of my dearest fiancé?”

My jaw clenched tightly. The satisfaction in Alison’s expression as she noticed that subtle tell of my irritation was clear. She didn’t smile, but her eyes gave her away.

“My presence is non-negotiable. So you either go with me, or I’m locking you in that truck.”

“Very enticing, Mr. Massimo, but given your history with Diego, I don’t want you pissing all over the only parade that might save me.”

I closed the gap between us and held her jaw in my hand before hissing between gritted teeth, “I don’t care what you want. I’m going, or there is no fucking meeting. What’s it gonna be, Miss Battaglia?”

Without a word, Alison pulled out of my grasp and walked to the back door of the car, her hand landing on mine as she reached to open the door.

“Such a damn gentleman.” Her eyes rolled in contempt before she ducked and got in the backseat.

Rounding the car, I took my seat beside her. Jimmy was in the passenger seat while James drove. Normally I’d be behind the wheel, but Alison wasn’t wearing a Kevlar vest, and I knew I wouldn’t hesitate to be her shield if shit hit the fucking fan.

“I don’t understand why you’re going through with this and putting yourself at risk if Vincenzo refused to let you off the hook.”

“Hope. They say it’s the last to die. Take the bridge,” she said to James, her voice steady, dismissing our conversation. “Avoid Fifth. I don’t want to be late.”

Her suit screamed business, matched with a cloak of power on an irrevocably confident face. But I saw the way she gripped the edge of her seat as if she needed something to ground the anxiety running loose inside her.

Who could blame her? She was about to feed sharks while bleeding, pretending this wasn’t her first time in the ocean.

On instinct, I covered her hand with mine and squeezed. Alison snapped her head towards me as she felt my skin on hers, but I kept my gaze ahead, giving a small nod of acknowledgement.

Maybe if I didn’t breathe, she wouldn’t pull back. Maybe if I didn’t look at her, she wouldn’t resist. So I sat there as still as I could, holding her hand as we made our way to the Ritz, and fuck me if that wasn’t the best moment I’d had in the last twenty-four hours.

“What’s this?” Alison asked, just above a whisper, pulling on the gauze that covered my ring finger. “You’re hurt?”

Before I could stop her, she tugged the bandage free. It unraveled with low resistance, revealing black ink against raw skin.

Angelo.

She stared at it and then at me before returning her gaze to the tattoo spelling the pet name I’d given her ever since I laid eyes on her.

There was a question in her expression while pain dulled the brightness of her green eyes.

“It’s not like it will ever get a ring, so I made one myself,” I said with a shrug. “Something as permanent as what I feel for you. I’ll always be yours, even if you’ll never be mine, Alison.”

Alison’s breath caught in her chest before she abruptly took her hand away from mine and turned her face towards the window.

I’d claimed myself as hers, because no matter how many years passed, I’d never belong to another.

From the hotel came news that our guests had arrived and were waiting for us in one of the secured conference rooms. It was soundproof and bug free thanks to a device that fucked up communications and created nothing but static for anyone eavesdropping.

The silence had grown heavy during the drive, but then again, it was the perfect opportunity to concentrate and get our heads in the game. There was no space for emotions to blur our focus now. The stakes were too high and the company too dangerous to allow for any slip-ups.

James and Jimmy exited first. I followed, and Alison stepped out last, all lethal elegance and no hesitation. Despite her nervousness, she’d come here today in her queen skin, ready to make her will prevail.

I could watch her live up to who she is for eternity and be a content man.

But I wanted so much more and had no idea what to do to make it happen.

No matter where I turned, every solution came with someone else’s blood spilled.

People who’d become my family. I couldn’t make them pay for my sins but fuck me if I was just going to watch Alison marry someone else without trying to stop it.

Every head in the hotel’s lobby turned to witness her magnificence as she made her way across the marbled floor, directly to the back hall that led to the conference room.

Jimmy opened the double doors for her, and all the men inside stood to greet her. They were criminals. Ruthless fuckers. But even they knew that when a queen walks in, you scramble to your feet in reverence.

Not that Naoki fucker. I knew what he wanted. He wanted her, but I’d never allow him to touch another hair on her head, even after I’m dead.

“Gentlemen,” Alison said in a greeting, taking her seat at the head of the table. Close to the door. Smart girl.

Diego had two sicarios with him while Jackson had made the gravely mistake of coming alone.

“Miss Battaglia,” Diego addressed her first before turning his gaze to me. “Gabriel Massimo. If only I couldn’t recall the last time I saw you. How is Daddy dearest?”

The last time I saw Diego was the day I killed his father. I went out of my way to avoid him when Alison and I were in California. I didn’t want him sinking his claws into her for my sake, but look at us now.

“Decomposing. How’s yours?”

“Probably rotting in hell. But you should know that. You gave him the one-way ticket, after all.”

“It’s a pity you didn’t walk him there.”

“Indeed. But we all have our time to burn in that fire. I’m sure yours is coming up soon enough.” He winked as if his antagonizing words could scare me.

I was never afraid of him. I was never afraid of dying. My fear was for her. I couldn’t live with the guilt of knowing that this fucker hurt Alison because of me. She didn’t deserve to suffer for my mistakes.

Jackson, that motherfucker, had a grin on his face that dismissed the need for any subtitles. An enemy of your enemy, right?

“That’s enough. If you’re so smitten, maybe you can get a freaking room later. Right now, we’re here to talk business.”

Diego nodded in agreement before he took his place beside her, while Jackson sat opposite. I took my place behind Alison while James and Jimmy stood on each side. Diego’s men stood behind him, too, while Jackson looked like a child playing grown-ups. Alone in a circle of hazard.

“Introductions are in order. Jackson Naoki, this is Diego Alcaraz, head of the Colombian Cartel. Diego, Jackson is the head of the New York Yakuza.”

“ El Diablo Blanco. The White Devil.” Jackson said, “Your reputation precedes you.”

Of course Jackson would know who Diego is. He was a DEA agent, after all. Drugs and their lords were his area of expertise, even though I had my doubts about whether his two brain cells could actually retain any information at all.

“That’s right. I’ve never heard about you, though.”

“Jackson just recently took over for his father, Hiro Naoki.”

“The man Matteo Battaglia killed?” Nope, fucker. That would be me. But potato, potahto. “Strange seeing you sitting at this table given the fact.”

“I know a good deal when I see one. Besides, my father and I never had that close of a relationship for me to hold a grudge towards the Battaglias when he was the one who started the war.” His gaze turned to me, his eyes saying what his words couldn’t.

Such a good fucking boy, playing his part like a puppet and keeping that mouth shut.

To be fair, his grudge was towards me, not them. Even though Matt was set on killing Hiro for murdering their grandfather, I was the one who pulled the trigger. Plus, there was the part where the woman he wanted loved me and not him. Shit’s gotta sting.