Page 54 of Angel of Light (Lords of The Commission: New York #5)

ALISON

“A hen party? Seriously?” I asked my sisters-in-law as they explained why the hell they forced me to put on the sluttiest of dresses I owned.

“Well, we know there’s nothing holy or wanted about your matrimony, but we can’t let you get married without this rite of passage.

Besides, you did the same for me, complete with an egregious amount of dicks and toys in a goody bag, so there’s no way we’re skipping this,” Jamie said as she helped me with the zipper on the tiny red dress.

“I’m with Jamie on this. Besides, I’m out of the house, so this better be the best freaking night of the century because nothing less would make me leave that maternity pillow unsupervised.

Your brother has been waiting for the first opportunity he can get to stick it in the trash.

I don’t think he realizes I would actually murder him in his sleep if he did that. ”

Both Jamie and I laughed at her antics. She was an adorable and very hormonal pregnant woman, but let’s not forget how deadly she is, too.

“Okay, fine! But can we call it something else?”

“Like what?”

“‘Til death do us party,” Adrianne chimed in as she walked back into my bedroom with the flat iron and a comb.

I almost couldn’t believe she was here and how seamless it was for us to slip into not only comfortable conversations, but intimate ones, too. Besides being family, she actually felt like it, too. It was as if we’d spent our childhood together when in reality, it had only been a couple of days.

“Is it weird that I’m wishing that comes soon?”

“Shh. No eerie or sad talk today.”

“I can’t help but think of what’s expected of me. Can I really sleep in his bed knowing his brother is aching for me on the other side?”

“Max isn’t going to California with you,” Francesca said, as if that little piece of information wouldn’t leave a gap in my chest, making it hard to breathe. “Oh shit,” She scrambled to her feet, trying to reach me as I stumbled to the vanity chair to sit down. “I thought you knew.”

Oxygen didn’t reach my lungs, but tears were quick to well in my eyes. How could I just assume?

I knew the answer to that. He was a constant. My only constant. Living without him never crossed my mind until this very moment.

“I–I should. It’s not like–” I couldn’t speak.

I couldn’t even finish that trail of thought.

How stupid could I have been to think that he’d follow me to withstand daily torture by choice?

He had gone out of his way to leave and escape the life that never welcomed him. The home that never made him belong.

Stupid Alison.

Stupid, stupid, Alison.

People are liars. Hope is not the last to die. The man you’re forced to marry is. My hope of finding a way out of this mess had perished along with the pieces of my heart that ached for a solution.

Forgiving Max for his lies was close to impossible because I didn’t allow myself that grace. It was easier for both of us if I held onto that grudge and fed it with more anger. Yet, in the turmoil that my life had been these last few days, what I hadn’t equated was actually living without him.

“It will be okay,” Francesca tried soothing me, her hand gliding down my hair in repetition as she whispered encouragements that fell on deaf ears.

“Don’t give up yet.” Jamie came to crouch down in front of me, holding my hands in hers while her deep brown eyes fought mine for attention. “They might find a way out. I refuse to believe they’ve given up.”

“All roads are blocked, J. Vincenzo has made sure that every way out makes one of you suffer, and I would never put you in danger.” I squeezed her hands, inhaling deeply before standing up.

Her sweet expression, Francesca’s round belly, and even her raging mood swings, Adrianne’s new start.

All of that was why I was going through this. They were worthy of this sacrifice.

Besides, nothing stopped me from smothering him to death on our wedding night. As if I ever had it in me.

“I need a drink.”

Before I could start walking to the door, Adrianne pulled three glasses and a bottle of Vodka from behind her back. “I figured you needed a quick buzz and something other than rum.”

I smiled at her thoughtfulness. She’d listened to every word I said, even after I was boring myself with my ranting.

“I don’t know if you have a praise kink or not, but good fucking girl!”

Adrianne blushed at my comment, which painted a clear picture for me. She was so much more innocent than the front of bravado she tried to hold up.

I took the drink and shot glasses from her, set them on the vanity, and filled each one to the brim.

“None for you, Mrs. Mafia hotshot,” I said to Francesca before handing Jamie and Adrianne their drinks.

“To a night of sisters and booze. Let’s have some fun and forget what comes after, at least for tonight. ”

Jamie and Adrianne hissed and coughed from the burn that ignited their gullet. I welcomed the pain, filling my glass again and doing another pure vodka shot.

“Question for you, Missy,” Francesca said, “What’s this nonsense about everyone wearing white to your wedding?”

“Zebras stand in a herd so that lions have a hard time picking one out from the crowd. For distraction purposes, we needed more zebras.”

“What? You can’t be drunk on two shots of vodka,” Jamie cooed.

“What I mean is, with the deal I made with Diego, and since the Bratva are out of business because of me, a wedding with me standing out like I have neon lights flashing over my head seemed less than ideal. We’re still in the probation period. If something goes wrong, I’d prefer to be camouflaged.”

“Smart girl,” Francesca praised, bringing a smile to my lips from her mafiosi approval as she rubbed her belly again. “You can add all the zebras you want, but you can’t disguise the elephant.”

“Shut up!” I laughed, throwing my silk robe right in her face. “Okay, ladies. Now make me pretty so some man can ruin my makeup later.”

‘Some man’ was standing at the top of the far stairs of Dea Tacita that led to Matt’s office. Funny how in a fucking club full of people, my gaze was immediately drawn to his. Even more jarring was the fact that he was looking right back at me.

All handsome darkness. Placid, unaffected expression. Ice blue glower that almost made me feel the dagger he shot my way as soon as his eyes roamed over my attire. I had a very clear idea that it was more the lack of fabric that had him squinting those baby blues into sharp lines.

The bass thumped beneath my heels as we made our way further into the club.

Dea Tacita was vibing tonight. Drenched with laughter, music, and enough bad decisions waiting to happen that even the air reeked of temptation.

It should’ve made me feel alive. Instead, I craved the numbness of my next drink.

I needed to cut loose from my future, if just for tonight. Even if it came at a cost of hazy thoughts, a hangover, and questionable dance moves.

I felt him follow us. Follow me. And as much as I was holding on to that rage as if my life depended on it, having his eyes set on me gave my ass an extra sway for his viewing pleasure.

I could almost hear the snarl. Could almost feel the grip of possession. The sting of punishment for parading myself in front of hundreds of men in such a way, even if none of them even so much as spared a glance my way.

Jamie had declared tonight a proper send-off, and she wasn’t letting me escape. There were balloons shaped like dicks in the VIP area, confetti already lodged in my bra just from looking at it, and a list of drink challenges that would’ve made a frat boy cry.

“Is this some kind of payback?” I asked, laughing at the setup. “How long did it take you to fill all these up?”

“Not too long. I had help.” Her smile was small, which was enough to tell me exactly who was the help.

Sending me off with a fucking party, complete with balloons and all!

If coming from Jamie, it was sweet and thoughtful, coming from Max, it felt more like betrayal.

“He wasn’t happy about why we were preparing a party for you. He just wanted to help make you happy,” Jamie said, probably propelled by the fury she saw in my eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure he did.”

Francesca struggled to pull herself up on one of the high stools, whispering cusses like a hormonal queen once she finally settled, one hand on her belly and the other stirring a mocktail like it had personally wronged her.

Adrianne looked uncertain and wildly out of place in four-inch heels and sequins, but she was smiling. A little unsure, a little sweet, and that made my chest tighten with affection. She was proving to be the opposite of everything I had first wished she was. If regret could kill…

“Alright, mob princess,” Jamie announced, slamming two drinks in front of me, “it’s time to teach baby sis over here the game.”

“Oh, God,” I groaned, “you still remember that?”

“Bitch, please. I lost a hundred bucks and my dignity the night you made me play this shit.”

“It was twenty.”

“Felt like a lot more at the time.”

I smirked, grabbing a twenty from my clutch and slapping it down on the table. “Okay, Adrianne. Pay attention. It’s very simple.”

I turned to the bartender and ordered nine lethal-looking shots. “Twenty bucks says I can down this drink faster than you can.”

Adrianne blinked, waiting for the rest of the instructions, but nothing else followed. “That’s it?”

“Nope,” Jamie added, pulling out her own bill. “It’s best out of three. Winner gets the money and the bragging rights.”

“And the loser has to tell a dirty secret,” I added to stir the pot a little.

Francesca let out a long-suffering sigh. “Why do I feel like I’m about to hear more than I ever wanted to about any of your sex lives?”

“Because you are,” Jamie chirped, the drinks from earlier already making her looser than normal.

We raised our glasses, preparing for takeoff.

“Ready?”

“Set.”

“GO!”