Page 58 of Angel of Light (Lords of The Commission: New York #5)
It was wrong then, but in this moment, that fucking wrong seemed so damn right.
Adrianne was passed out cold in the back seat, her head lolling against the window like a broken doll. She’d hit the booze hard tonight. But it was Alison who was destroying me, staring out the window with that mix of fury and hurt that made my chest feel like it was caving in.
She hadn’t said a word since we left Dea Tacita aside from that protest. Not one fucking word. She just sat there, radiating pain and anger while I drove through these streets, trying to figure out how the hell I was supposed to fix this.
I pulled into the parking garage of her building, the engine’s rumble echoing off the concrete walls. Adrianne stirred but didn’t wake up. Good. One less person to witness the shitstorm that was about to happen.
I could feel it brewing behind Alison’s unfiltered gaze. She was just holding off for the opportunity to unleash all those pent-up thoughts.
“We’re here,” I said quietly, my voice rough from the tension lodged in my throat.
Alison turned to look at me for the first time since we’d gotten in the car. Her eyes were glassy from the alcohol, but there was something sharp and painful cutting through the haze.
“Can you take her up, please?” She asked, nodding toward Adrianne. Her voice was steady, controlled, but I could hear the tremor underneath.
I nodded before getting out and opening the back door, carefully lifting Adrianne into my arms. She was completely limp, her head falling against my chest as I carried her toward the elevator. Alison walked ahead of us, her heels clicking against the floor with each measured step.
The elevator ride was suffocating. Six floors of watching Alison’s reflection in the metal doors, seeing the way she held herself so perfectly composed while everything inside her was clearly falling apart.
When we reached her floor, Alison unlocked the door and held it open for me. I carried Adrianne to the guest bedroom, gently placing her on the bed and pulling off her heels before covering her with a blanket. She’ll have one hell of a hangover tomorrow, but she’ll live.
When I walked back into the living room, Alison was standing by the window, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold the pieces together.
“She’s fine. Some Aspirin tomorrow should help ease her headache.”
“Thank you,” She almost whispered, her gaze still towards the window, her back purposely turned to me.
“Alison–”
“It’s okay.” Her voice was sharper now, cutting through the air between us. “It was good while it lasted, right?”
Her resignation was so much worse than her pain and anger.
She’d given up. Rationally, it was the sane thing to do. Cut the chord now and avoid this next week of pure torture when the outcome was more than predictable. Certain.
I crossed the living room towards her, placing my hands on her shoulders to make her face me. The gut punch that her tear-stained face gave me was worse than any bullet.
Her silent tears didn’t need permission to fall. They were relentless. A waterfall of mourning.
“Hey, hey. Shh, come here.” I pulled her into me, forcing myself to keep my own pain at bay and hold her for the strength she needed.
“It’s going to be okay. I am not leaving you.
If you want me to go to California, I’m going.
Done. I don’t care if he doesn’t want me there.
I’ll love you in the shadows. Protect you in the dark.
” My voice broke while my hand smoothed her hair in repetitive motions.
“I don’t exist without you, Angelo. There’s no use in forcing a life where you are not.
There is no life without you in it, Baby. ”
“No. You were right. I can’t expect that of you.”
“I don’t care. What will I be doing here? I’d rather be a shell of myself beside you than all the way across the country.” I pulled her face back an inch so she could look into my eyes. “At least I’ll get to kiss you goodnight behind his back.”
“You can’t give up your happiness just like that.”
I cupped her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. Those emerald eyes were drowning in tears, and every drop felt like a knife twisting in my chest.
“My happiness?” I let out a bitter chuckle that scraped my throat raw. “ Angelo , you are my happiness. You’re the only thing that makes sense in this fucked up world. Without you, there is no happiness to give up.”
She shook her head, trying to pull away from me, but I held her tighter.
“Listen to me,” I said, my voice rough with desperation. “Three years ago, when I first saw you walk into that room, you lit up my entire world. You made me believe that maybe, just maybe, a broken bastard like me could deserve something beautiful. Something pure.”
My thumb traced the path of her tears, and I wanted to kiss every single one away.
“I tried to stay away. Both God and you know I fucking tried. But you’re like gravity, Alison. You pull me in, and I can’t fight it anymore. I don’t want to fight it anymore.”
“Max…” she whispered, her voice breaking.
“No, let me finish. You think I’m giving up my happiness?
Baby, my happiness isn’t tied to a city or a job or even my own life.
It’s tied to you. It’s your laugh when you think no one’s watching.
It’s the way you scrunch your nose when you’re concentrating.
It’s the way you make me feel like I’m worth something more than an oath. ”
I pressed my forehead against hers, breathing her in like she was oxygen and I was drowning.
“So, if you’re going to California, then I’m going to California. If you’re marrying that bastard, then I’ll be there in the shadows, even if it kills me to watch. This is the only way I have left to fight for you, Baby. Please let me.”
She was quiet for a long moment, just looking at me with those beautiful, broken eyes. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely a whisper.
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not asking. I’m telling you. This is what I’m choosing. You. Always you. In any way I can have you in my life.”
I pulled her closer, wrapping my arms around her like I could shield her from the world. From Vincenzo. From this whole goddamn mess.
“We’ll figure it out,” I murmured against her hair. “Somehow, we’ll figure it out. But I’m not losing you. Not now, not ever.”
She clung to me, her fingers digging into my shirt like she was afraid I might disappear. And maybe I was afraid of the same thing.
“I love you,” she whispered against my chest. “I haven’t forgiven you yet, but I love you so damn much it hurts.”
“And I love you, Angelo .” I held her for a moment longer before a shiver traveled down her body and shook her from head to toe. “Come. Let’s get you out of that dress. You smell like an alley cat.”
Turning her around so her back was to me, my fingers found the zipper, sliding it down slowly. The red fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but black lace that made my mouth go dry.
Without thinking, I shrugged out of my jacket and then my shirt, pulling it over her head. It hung loose on her smaller frame, and something about seeing her in my clothes made my chest tight.
The parallel to the night we met over three years ago wasn’t lost on me; only now, the wounds I sported were much deeper than the ones that cut my flesh but shied from my soul.
I moved us without thinking, walking through the hallway and into her bedroom. Alison climbed into bed, and I followed, lying behind her and pulling her against my chest. She melted into me, her body shaking with silent tears.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered into her hair. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
She didn’t respond, just pressed closer to me, her fingers gripping my arms like I was the only thing keeping her anchored.
I held her until her breathing evened out, until the tension left her body and she fell into an exhausted sleep. But even then, I couldn’t bring myself to let go.
This was torture. Holding her like this, knowing it might be the last time. Knowing that in a few days, she’d be Mrs. Vincenzo Massimo, and I’d be...
What? What the fuck would I be?
My phone buzzed against the nightstand, the sound cutting through the silence like a blade. I carefully extracted myself from Alison’s grip, slipping out of bed and into the hallway before answering.
“Jimmy. Please tell me you have good news.”
“Maybe. We found her. But it’s tricky.”