5. Lana

5

LANA

I wake with a start, my head pounding from the wine I downed after last night's disaster. Sunlight streams through the curtains, making me groan from its brightness burning my eyes. I bury my face in the pillow as memories of dinner flood back.

God, I was such a bitch.

The look on Elio's face from all the vile words… the tantrum I threw. I screwed up, big time.

I drag myself out of bed, wincing at my reflection in the mirror. Dark circles under my eyes reveal my sleepless night. My hair is wild, practically untamable. I'm sure that's how Elio sees me. Untamable.

The pressure's getting to me. The Rinellas breathing down our necks and those damn cops sniffing around every corner. And Detective Lutz…

No. I shake my head, banishing thoughts of those piercing blue eyes.

I splash cold water on my face, willing myself to snap out of it. I'm Lana D'Amato. I don't fall apart over a little heat.

As I slip on my silk robe, I make a silent vow. No more losing my cool. No more lashing out at family. I'll apologize to Elio and trust him to make things right with the Rinellas. And I'll deal with the police as I have been, quite successfully, if I do say so myself.

I march to my closet, selecting a crisp white blouse and tailored cream pencil skirt with lace camisole underneath the coordinating tapered blazer. I choose a softer color, wanting to appear less bold, less bitchy when I grovel to Elio, but still exude power at work. I forgo the usual red lipstick for a more neutral color and soften the makeup around my eyes. I feel a tinge of annoyance that men don't have to consider all this when they do business. When they're assholes, they're seen as bold and brazen, whereas women are seen as bitches or emotional. Men blame women and their feminine wiles, but if we don't use our assets, we can't get what we want. That's not to say I'll sleep with a man to get my way, but I'll change my appearance. I'll flirt if necessary, something I've tried with Detective Lutz, but oddly enough, that has become a game between us. And ugh… why am I thinking of him again?

Once I feel put together and ready to face the day, I head down to the kitchen. There I'm greeted by a woman with wild red hair whom I've never met.

"Oh, hello!" She greets me with a wide smile. "I'm Diana." She extends her hand.

I shake it, wondering who she is beyond Diana. "Lana."

"Nice to meet you. Can I make you breakfast?"

"Ah…"

Anna, our cook, enters from the pantry. "Ms. D'Amato. This is Diana. She's just been hired to help me."

I remember a while ago Elio discussing getting help for Anna, who at sixty is nearing retirement.

"Welcome.' I try to smile, but the wine fog makes it hard. "I just need coffee."

"Egg on toast," Anna tells Diana.

That is my usual breakfast, but I'm not feeling very hungry. Once I have my coffee, I perk up enough to eat my toast. Then, feeling more awake, I head to Elio's home office to make amends and alleviate the guilt over last night's outburst.

I knock softly, then push the door open. "Got a minute?"

Elio glances up from his desk, his expression guarded. "Lana." He nods, gesturing to the chair across from him.

I perch on the edge of the chair and inhale deeply as I prepare my statement. "I apologize for last night. I was out of line."

Elio leans back, his face softening. "I appreciate that. I'd like?—"

I hold a hand up to stop him, knowing what he's going to ask. "I'll apologize to Piper, Elysse, and Matteo as well." I glance around the room, wondering where Matteo is.

"Thank you." He studies me. "Is there something going on that I should know about? Besides the Rinella deal."

I shake my head, knowing he's really asking if I'm cracking under the pressure of the extra responsibility he gave me. "Just those raids, but I suspect the Rinellas are behind it. Do you know if Detective Peter Hartley or Henry Lutz are on his payroll?" Even as I ask, I doubt Lutz is. He seems like a Boy Scout, but you never know. Maybe he has a greedy ex-wife and a brood of kids to support who require the extra income working for made men can give.

Elio shakes his head. "I don't know, but I can see what I can learn." He rises and comes around his desk, leaning against it. "I know you've been under a lot of pressure."

"That's no excuse. I shouldn't have questioned your decisions or accused you of not caring about Lazaro. I know you do. I just…" I trail off, swallowing hard.

"You miss him," Elio finishes for me. "I get it. We all do."

I nod, blinking back tears. Dammit. Crying only makes me look weak. "I promise I'm back on track now. You can count on me."

Elio reaches over, squeezing my hand. "I know I can. Now, about the Rinellas. I'd hoped losing his boat would warn him away."

My lips quirk up. "I knew that was you."

"Then why are you busting my balls?" He holds his hand up. "Don't answer that. Just know that I'm on it. What I'd like to do is appease him for backing out on marrying Ava, but if necessary, we may have to consider that bridge burned."

It's not ideal, but I suppose he's right. "I'm sure you'll figure out something."

"What about the cops?"

"I've got them handled."

"Good."

I stand, and he gives me a quick hug. "If you ever want out…"

"And do what? Knit?" I quirk a brow.

He laughs. "Yeah. I don't see you doing that. Get to work."

Glad that I've made peace with my brother, I head downtown to our offices. Although I'm aware of the criminal side of business, my job is primarily dealing with the legitimate businesses, the hide-and-seek with our warehouses notwithstanding. Not that they're separate. Nearly all our legit businesses have less than legal aspects such as money laundering.

"Morning, Ms. D'Amato," our receptionist chirps.

I nod, already scanning the day's agenda on my phone. "Any urgent messages, Tessa?"

"Just the usual. Oh, and the contracts for the new development project arrived."

Perfect. Just what I need to clear my head.

I settle behind my desk, spreading out the blueprints for our latest venture, a mixed-use complex that'll revitalize a struggling neighborhood. Some might find it unbelievable that Mafia activities sometimes include projects that help a community. Okay, I know. It's all to make us look legitimate and build a good reputation. But it's no different from any other legit corporation that builds a park or creates a foundation for the same reason.

As I pore over zoning regulations and budget projections, the weight of last night's argument with Elio starts to lift. For a few blissful hours, I'm just a savvy businesswoman, not the ice princess of Chicago's underworld. By the end of the day, I've smoothed out a permit issue and vetted businesses interested in opening in the area.

Before I know it, the day is done. I step out of my office, feeling refreshed after a productive day. I'm feeling better than I have in a while. I'll head home, make my apologies to Piper, Elysse, and Matteo and enjoy a nice dinner with the family. Maybe I'll call a friend and head out to a club later tonight and let loose.

I exit the building, looking for my driver when I spot a familiar figure leaning against the wall. I stop short. My breath hitches as Detective Henry Lutz straightens up. I realize I'm having a visceral reaction to seeing him. Not an "Oh, no, the cops are here," but a "God, is he sexy with that swagger of his." As if he knows it, he smirks at me, his blue eyes twinkling with that infuriating mix of charm and challenge.

I cross my arms. "You do know stalking is against the law, don't you?"

Henry's lips quirk up in a half-smile. "Funny, I was about to say the same thing about obstructing justice."

My own lips twitch upward. As much as I hate to admit it, I enjoy our verbal sparring matches.

"Is this the D'Amato raid of the day? Circling back around to where you started since you've run out of warehouses?"

Henry shrugs, his casual demeanor at odds with the intensity of his gaze. "Just thought I'd check in on my favorite person of interest."

Favorite? "I guess I should be flattered. Have you considered that you're being played? I mean, how much humiliation are you going to endure before you realize these calls you're getting are nothing?"

"I wouldn't say nothing."

I arch a brow, hoping my nonchalance hides the clench of my belly, wondering what he's found. "Poor Hartley was nearly weeping the other day when he didn't find any hint of a crime."

He shrugs. "Who do you think is playing us, Ms. D'Amato?"

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. How many times have I told him to call me Lana? He hasn't forgotten. I think he likes my reminding him. This is a crazy, dangerous game.

"It's Lana, and let's just say that not everyone who claims to be on the side of justice has pure motives."

"Interesting theory," Henry muses. "Any particular suspects in mind?"

I shake my head, unwilling to name names without concrete proof. If I accuse the Rinellas, I could start a war, which I'm not necessarily against, but with the police breathing down our backs, now wouldn't be a good time to increase conflict between the Families. "You're the detective. Maybe you need to look closely at who's been feeding you information lately."

Henry's eyes narrow, his detective instincts clearly piqued. "Why would anyone be out to get you?"

I sigh. "Jealousy? Failed business deals? Who knows? Again, you're the detective. Why are you asking me to do your job?" I start to turn away, ready to leave this conversation behind. As fun as it is to banter with him, it's not smart.

"Do you think it involves your brother, Lazaro?"

I stop short and take a breath before I turn to him. "What?"

"I'd like to talk to you about Lazaro's disappearance. Down at the station."

I nearly laugh. "Yeah… no. I go to the station, and I may never go home."

He shakes his head. "Why would you think that? You know we don't have anything on you. Besides, I want to discuss your missing persons report on Lazaro."

God, I'm tempted. The police have never taken an interest in Lazaro's disappearance. My curiosity wars with suspicion. "Why the sudden interest?"

Henry's expression softens, just a fraction. "I've been looking into his disappearance. There might be some new leads."

For a moment, hope flares in my chest. But I quickly stamp it out. This is Detective Lutz, after all. The man who's been hounding my family. This must be a trick.

"I appreciate the offer, Detective," I say, careful to keep my tone neutral, "but I'm afraid I'll have to decline."

His brow furrows. "Why? You're the one who complained we weren't taking it seriously, and now that I am, you don't want to help?"

I let out a humorless laugh. "You're joking, right? After all the harassment you've put my family through, you really expect me to trust you?"

"This isn't about trust. It's about finding out what happened to your brother."

I shake my head, steeling myself against the temptation. "No offense, Detective, but the police haven't exactly been helpful in the past. Why should I believe you now?"

Henry opens his mouth to argue, but I hold up a hand to stop him.

"Look, I appreciate that you're trying to do your job. But my family and I have managed just fine without police interference. If there's anything new about Lazaro, we'll find it on our own."

With that, I turn on my heel and walk away, ignoring the twinge of regret in my gut. As much as I want answers about Lazaro, I can't risk exposing our family to more scrutiny.

As I start toward my waiting car, I can't shake the feeling that I might have just passed up a chance to finally uncover the truth about my twin's disappearance.

"I have some information about Lazaro."

I stop and close my eyes.

Henry walks to me. "How about we discuss over dinner, then?"

My breath catches in my throat. Lazaro. After all this time. "Dinner? With you?"

Henry takes a step closer, lowering his voice. "Because I think there's more to this story than meets the eye. And while I don't condone the business your family is in, no one deserves to simply disappear. I believe you deserve to know the truth."

I study his face, searching for any sign of deception. But all I see is sincerity in those piercing blue eyes. Is it wishful thinking? This could be a trap, a ploy to get me to let my guard down. But what if it's not? What if he really does have information about Lazaro?

"I… I don't know," I stammer, caught between hope and caution.

"Just dinner," Henry says softly. "If you don't like what you hear, you can walk away."

I bite my lip, torn. Every instinct screams at me to refuse, to protect myself and my family. But the thought of finally getting answers about Lazaro…

"Okay," I hear myself say before I can think better of it. "Just dinner. My choice of restaurant." At least if this is a setup, I can have D'Amato men around to protect me.

"Remember, I'm operating on a civil servant's budget."

I give him the name of a restaurant owned by the family that is in the moderate price range. It's one we took over when the owner failed to pay the loan we'd given him to open the place. See, we don't burn buildings down or maim people who don't pay loans. We foreclose, just like banks do.

"I can drive."

"No. I have a driver. I'll meet you there."

He smiles, and for a moment it makes my brain hiccup. God, he's handsome. "I'll see you there… Lana."

My insides start doing strange things at his tone. The way my name rolls off his lips. Warning bells clang in my head. This is dangerous. I should cancel. Or invite Elio.

He tilts his head as if he knows the war raging inside my head. He's wondering if I'm going to chicken out.

I turn up the wattage of my own smile. "I'll be there, Henry."