10. Lazaro

10

LAZARO

I ’d much rather be fucking Diana on that too small bed of hers. It’s not Elio and Lana who have me resisting. It’s Diana. I don’t want to fuck up her job. So instead of following her into the shower to run my hands over that luscious body of hers again, I dress. But holy hell, when I think of her body, wet and soapy, my dick doesn’t want to be enclosed in my pants.

I force him behind my zipper and then distract myself from thoughts of Diana naked in the shower by taking in her apartment. It feels smaller in the harsh light of morning than it had last night. I wander through the space, taking in details I'd missed in the darkness last night.

The place is sparse, almost barren. A few pieces of secondhand furniture, mismatched dishes in the cupboard, a single backpack tucked in the corner. She has a single book on the nightstand.

It strikes me how little she owns. Everything she has can probably fit in that one bag. I hadn’t been much different before Lana found me. It makes me think of how nice it was. No shit tying me down.

I envy Diana’s freedom. No ties, no obligations. She can pick up and go whenever the mood strikes. I remember what she'd said last night about no one noticing if she disappeared. There was a hint of sadness in her eyes when she'd said it. Like she was used to being overlooked, forgotten. It made my chest ache, thinking of her moving through life unnoticed, leaving no trace behind.

Now, taking in the emptiness of her home, her words hit hard. As I look closer at her home, I see signs of loneliness. No photos on the walls, no mementos from past adventures.

The sound of running water from Diana's shower tempts me again. I want to go make her feel like she belongs. Belongs to me. An unsettling feeling washes through me at that thought. Who am I to make anyone feel wanted? I don’t know if I can. But fucking hell, how much I’d like to strip down and bury myself in her, possess her, make her mine. My worried family be damned. The thought of it is so tempting, it physically hurts to resist.

For a moment, I resent Lana and Elio for getting in the way of what I want. But then I remember Diana’s words last night about how fortunate I am to have a family who gives a shit about me. The way her eyes held a hint of sadness when she admitted no one's ever done that for her.

That’s so fucking wrong. Diana is an amazing woman. How anyone who’s met her doesn’t recognize that is a mystery to me. I’m certain I’ll never forget her. Inwardly, I laugh at the thought since I’m currently without memories of my first twenty-one years. All I've got are the last three years, living alone in blissful ignorance of the man I'd once been.

But Diana is an unforgettable woman. And it hits me then that I want to be the person who notices when she's gone, who goes looking when she disappears.

“You okay?”

Her voice cuts through the crazy thoughts running through my mind. I turn to her, watching as she emerges from the bathroom, her wild red curls damp and her face fresh and clean. She's wearing a simple, plain dress that emphasizes her role as part of the kitchen staff. It's a stark reminder of our different positions within the D'Amato household, and I feel a twinge of unease. How will Elio and Lana react if they find out about us? Will they disapprove? Do they see her as someone beneath my station?

I remember she’s talking to me. “Yeah, sure. Just mentally gearing up for Lana’s temper.”

Diana approaches me with a warm smile that makes my worries fade. There's something about her presence that calms me, grounds me in a way I can't explain. She’s like a balm for my troubled soul.

“Just remember that her anger comes from her love for you.”

I nod. “I’ll try.”

We head out to her car, and I chuckle as I slide into the passenger seat. This thing is barely holding together. As she starts the engine with a sputtering cough, I'm already envisioning how I could fix it up for her. Maybe replace that worn-out timing belt, adjust the carburetor… I keep these thoughts to myself, though, not wanting to offend her. She clearly loves this car.

As we drive, Diana chatters excitedly about her plans for the day's menu. She's thinking of trying a new sandwich recipe she wants me to taste. Her enthusiasm is infectious, and I nod along, asking questions about ingredients.

It strikes me how normal this feels. Just two people, talking about everyday things like recipes and car troubles. For a moment, I'm not the amnesiac son of a powerful family, struggling to fit into a life I can't remember. I'm just a guy, listening to a woman he likes talk about her passion.

I want to carry this with me as I enter the house to face my overbearing siblings. But as Diana pulls the car up the drive to where off-site staff park during the day, the mood shifts. Diana's usual chatter fades into silence. What is going on in her mind? Is she having second thoughts? Regretting last night?

“What’s wrong?” I ask, my stomach clenched tight as I brace myself for her answer.

She gives me a forced smile. “Nothing. Just… well… I'm at work now. I'm…"

She trails off, and I hate that she's adjusting to being a servant. Desperate to reassure her, I lean in and press my lips to hers. The kiss is soft, tender. I think about how rough I was with her last night and hope I have a chance to touch her more gently.

When we part, I see a small smile on her face, but uncertainty still lingers in her eyes.

“I've got to get inside,” she says.

I nod and exit the car, starting toward the house. But she’s not beside me. She’s walking toward the back of the house.

I frown in confusion. "Where are you going?”

"To work," she replies simply, as if it should be obvious.

I feel a surge of discomfort. The idea of her sneaking in through the back entrance while I waltz through the front door doesn't sit right with me. It feels wrong, like I'm somehow diminishing her importance.

Without thinking, I reach out and take her hand, tugging her gently toward the front of the house. "You're coming in with me."

Surprise mixed with uncertainty shines in her eyes, but I don't let go of her hand as I lead her up the front steps. I know this might raise eyebrows, might lead to questions I'm not ready to answer. But at this moment, all I care about is showing Diana that she's not just some servant to me. She's so much more than that.

I step into the foyer with Diana, right into an ambush of Lana, Elio, and Matteo waiting for me, their expressions filled with anger and annoyance. Only Matteo doesn’t seem pissed, but he raises a brow at Diana.

Diana's hand slips from mine as she hurries toward the kitchen. I watch her go, feeling a pang of regret at her hasty retreat.

Lana's eyes follow Diana until she disappears, then snap back to me with an icy glare. The tension in the room is palpable, and I brace myself for the confrontation I know is coming.

"Where the hell have you been?" Lana demands, her voice tight as if she's trying not to unleash her fury on me.

I open my mouth to respond, but she cuts me off. "Do you have any idea how worried we were? You can't just disappear like that, Lazaro. Not after everything that's happened."

She’s beyond angry, but I can hear the worry and pain, and that’s the part that taps into my guilt. I grab onto Diana’s reminder that their anger comes from a place of love.

"I'm sorry," I say, running a hand through my hair. "I couldn't sleep, and I needed some air. I didn't mean to worry anyone."

Matteo smirks. “And you found that air with the cook?”

My jaw clenches. I don't want to drag Diana into this, but I also don't want to lie. "She gave me a ride this morning. That's all."

"And last night?" Matteo won't let this go.

Lana's eyes narrow. "Lazaro, we're trying to help you. But we can't do that if you keep running off with the help."

Anger surges at the dismissive way she speaks about Diana. But I take a deep breath, reminding myself that they’re my family. “I said I’m sorry.”

"If you're going to keep disappearing like this, I might just have to put a tracker on you," she threatens. "What's the point of giving you a phone if you're not going to use it?"

A tracker? What the fuck? Anger boils up inside me. I've been trying to be patient, to understand their concern, but suddenly, it's all too much.

"I've lost my memory, not my intelligence," I snap, my voice rising. "I don't need to be treated like a child."

Hurt flashes across Lana's face. I should feel guilty for lashing out, but right now, all I feel is frustration. They keep treating me like I'm broken, like I can't be trusted to make my own decisions. It's suffocating.

“I’ve lived three years without you harping on me or tracking me. Going where I wanted. Doing what I wanted, how I wanted. You’re not my parents, so leave me the fuck alone.”

Elio’s eyes narrow. The tension radiates off him in waves. A part of me wants to retreat, unsure of what he’s about to say or do.

"You clearly can't be trusted to make your own decisions!" Elio yells, jabbing a finger in my direction. "You used to think you were invincible, and then one day you had the brains beat out of you and woke up hundreds of miles from home with no clue who you even are!"

His words are like a slap across my face, reminding me of everything I've lost. The memories I can't access, the life I can't remember.

"Thanks for the reminder," I snap back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Otherwise, I probably would have forgotten."

The room goes deathly quiet after my outburst. I see a mixture of shock and regret in my siblings. But I'm too angry to care. They don't understand what it's like to be me, to live in this constant state of confusion and frustration.

The rage grows, taking on energy. I clench my fists at my sides, fighting the urge to lash out physically. I want to break something.

Matteo's laughter suddenly cuts through the tension. We all turn to glare at him.

"What the hell is so funny?" I growl.

Matteo grins, shaking his head. "You're all far too similar for your own good. It wasn’t so long ago I stood here with Elio demanding to know where Lana was when she went AWOL. In fact, Lana, I recall you saying almost the exact same thing. That you're a big girl who can take care of yourself.”

Lana's face flushes red, her anger dissolving into embarrassment. Even Elio's stern expression softens a bit.

"And if I'm not mistaken," Matteo continues, turning to Elio, "You spent a night or two away yourself. I believe Lana chewed you out for that."

The atmosphere in the room shifts, the earlier tension dissipating. My own anger starts to ebb.

Lana clears her throat, trying to regain her composure. "That's… that's different.”

“Yeah, right.” Matteo laughs.

Lana’s expression softens. "I'm sorry, Lazaro. I don’t mean to be such a bitch?—”

“Yes, you do,” Elio quips, but it’s said with humor.

She smirks at him before turning her attention back to me. “The point is, I was so lost when you were gone. I'm terrified of losing you again.”

I feel like an asshole. Yes, she needs to give me some space, but I need to consider her side of the situation as well.

I step closer to her, reaching out to take her hand. "I'm sorry too. I wasn’t thinking how my actions would affect you all. I promise I'll do better."

Lana pulls me into a tight hug. I wrap my arms around her, feeling a surge of affection for this sister I barely know.

Suddenly, I feel another pair of arms encircling us. I look up to see Elio joining the hug, a softness in his eyes.

"Come on, Matteo," Elio calls out. "Get in here."

Matteo laughs, shaking his head. "You D'Amatos and your fucking drama.” He joins our group hug.

Embraced by my family, something shifts inside me. It's not a memory, exactly, but a feeling. A sense of belonging. A connection that goes beyond memories to something deeper. I’m a part of them and they’re a part of me.

Matteo makes exaggerated choking sounds. "Okay, okay, enough with the mushy stuff. I can't breathe!"

We all burst into laughter. As we pull apart, I catch Lana's eye and see her smiling at me. I feel her love, her sense of completeness when I'm around. I sense it too, and for the first time since I've returned, I feel like I'm truly home.