12. Lazaro

12

LAZARO

I step out of the kitchen, feeling a sense of strength and solidity that's been missing since I woke up with no memory. Diana has that effect on me. She grounds me, makes me feel whole in a way I can't explain.

But as I walk through the house, doubt creeps in. Have I put her in a difficult position? She does work for the family. She even expressed concern. Not that I’d allow Elio to fire her, but still, it could get awkward for her. I wonder if she'd be better off quitting, letting me take care of her instead.

I shake my head, dismissing the thought. Diana's a free spirit. The idea of being trapped, even in a gilded cage, would suffocate her. Besides, it's far too early to be thinking that way. We've only just begun whatever this is between us.

I rub my hand over my heart, a little unsettled by thinking such thoughts. Is there really something between us? Something more than just sex? I can't deny how good I feel around her. She brings out a side of me I didn't know existed or maybe forgot. No, not forgot. Based on what I’ve learned about my past self, I doubt I was a man who developed feelings for anyone beyond my family. Everyone sees me as the “mad dog”, a man to fear. But she isn’t afraid of me. And while I don’t know who I am anymore, with her I feel normal, like I can be me, whoever that is.

But even as I bask in the afterglow of our encounter, I can't ignore the beast that lurks within me. The one that took over when that foreman pulled a gun on Elio. The one that's capable of violence I can't even remember. Diana may calm me, but she can't tame that part of me that I’m not in control of. I'm not sure anyone can. And that terrifies me more than I'd like to admit.

I head up to my room to shower and figure out my plans for the day. After I nearly killed Elio’s foreman, I can't imagine Elio wants to include me in any business discussions or activities. Maybe I’ll head out to the garage and tinker with the cars.

I step out of the shower, toweling off as I continue to mull over my situation with Diana. Part of me knows I should end things before they get too complicated. She deserves better than a man with no past and a violent streak he can't control.

Unfortunately, I'm not that noble. The selfish part of me wants to hold on to her. And she seems to genuinely enjoy my company. It's not like I'm forcing her into anything.

I pull on a fresh shirt, still wrestling with my thoughts. Before I can come to any real conclusion, there's a knock at my door.

"Come in," I call out.

Matteo strolls in, looking as carefree as ever. "Hey, are you up for a job?"

I tense immediately, memories of the warehouse incident flashing through my mind. "I don't know. After what happened?—”

He waves off my concern. "Relax, it's nothing like that. This is an easy one. No guns, no intimidation needed. Promise."

I eye him skeptically. I did more than intimidate the other day. "What kind of job are we talking about?"

"Just checking in with Paulie at the club. No need for threats."

I hesitate, still unsure. I’m eager to prove I can be useful without resorting to violence, and maybe this is the chance I need to show everyone, including myself, that I'm more than just a "mad dog".

"Alright." I nod.

Thirty minutes later, I follow Matteo into one of our family's clubs, the bass blasting until my ears throb. The place isn’t crowded yet, but the few men who are there are getting an eyeful of the dancers strutting around in glittery costumes that leave little to the imagination.

As we enter, heads turn and eyes light up. A leggy blonde saunters over, her smile wide. "Lazaro! We missed you, handsome."

I freeze, caught off guard by her familiarity. Before I can respond, a petite redhead joins us, running her hand down my arm. "Where've you been hiding, sugar? It's been ages."

More girls crowd around, their perfume overwhelming my senses. They chat and laugh like we're old friends, but I can't place a single face. The disconnect is jarring.

I glance at Matteo, hoping for some help, but he just smirks and shrugs.

A brunette with huge tits nearly falling out of a sparkling blue bikini top pouts at me. "You haven't forgotten me, have you?" I have forgotten her. I’ve forgotten all of them. Every single one.

I try to smile, to play along. “How could I forget?”

Matteo finally steps in, chuckling. "Ladies, ladies. Give the man some breathing room.” He pushes me forward toward the back of the club.

As we weave through the throng of women, he says, “I'm gonna have to beat them off with a stick to get any work done."

I keep moving, but I’m keenly aware of the women watching with something that looks like desire in their eyes. It’s clear I’ve been here before, been with them before. Was it all at once? One at a time?

Turning to Matteo, I ask in a low voice, "Were they always like this about me?"

Matteo bursts out laughing, slapping me on the back. "Are you kidding me? I'm amazed your ego could allow you to forget that tidbit. The girls always loved you. It was fucking annoying."

His words make me shift uncomfortably. I'm not sure how I feel about this revelation. I mean, yeah, it does the ego good to know women find me attractive and clearly, I took good care of them sexually, but still. These ladies know things about me, intimate details, and I know nothing.

"You and I were regulars here. I still come around sometimes, but I don’t get quite the reception you do. When you walked in, it was like throwing chum to sharks. The girls would go wild for you. I’m not too proud to admit I’ve always wondered what your magic touch was. I mean, I’m not bad looking. My dick isn’t chopped meat. So, what is it about you?”

I raise an eyebrow, finding it hard to believe. "You're exaggerating."

Matteo shakes his head. "Nope. Some of the girls from here would even show up when they weren’t working, hoping to catch your eye. You were quite the ladies' man, Lazaro."

As I process this information, I feel all too common the disconnect between the man they're describing and who I am now. The idea of being such a player doesn't sit well with me, especially now that I have Diana.

I shake my head, unable to reconcile the past Lazaro with who I am now. "I don't remember any of that. It doesn't feel like me at all."

Matteo claps me on the shoulder. "Memory or not, you're still you. Some things don't change."

But have they? Since waking up without my memories, I haven't felt any desire to be with multiple women. Sure, I’ve had a few sexual encounters in the last three years, but not a gaggle of women. In fact, lately, my thoughts have been consumed by one woman, Diana. Just thinking about her sends a rush of heat through my body.

I can't deny the dirty thoughts I've had about her. The things I want to do to her, the ways I want to make her moan and writhe beneath me. It's intense, almost overwhelming at times. But it's all focused on her. Not just any woman will do to fulfill those fantasies.

“So, you see, you don’t have to poach the help at home to satisfy those manly needs of yours,” Matteo finishes.

I look around at the beautiful women surrounding us, trying to conjure up even a hint of the desire Matteo claims I used to feel. But there's nothing. They're attractive, sure, but they don't stir anything in me the way Diana does. In fact, the idea of being with anyone else feels wrong somehow.

I feel a surge of protectiveness of Diana at Matteo’s comment. "It's not like that. She's… different."

Matteo studies me for a moment, then nods slowly. “It’s none of my business. Besides, once your memory is back, you’ll probably go back to your old self.”

Unease burns like acid in my stomach at Matteo’s words. What if my feelings for Diana are just a result of my amnesia? If I suddenly regain my memories, will I revert to that violent, womanizing version of myself?

I try to imagine a scenario where I wake up one day, memories intact, and suddenly lose interest in Diana. It seems impossible. The connection I feel with her, the way she grounds me and makes me feel whole. Surely, that can't just disappear?

But it can. I’m living proof that strong connections can vanish. It happened with my family. Oh, sure, I have a sense of connection with my family, especially my twin, Lana. But until she walked into the garage to find me, I didn’t remember my family. What if the person I've become since losing my memories isn't the real me at all? And that if my memories return, the man I have become disappears?

The thought of hurting Diana, of leading her on only to change my mind if my memories return, is unbearable. She deserves better than that. She deserves someone who can promise her consistency, who knows exactly who they are and what they want. I’m forced to consider distancing myself from her again, at least until I figure things out. It would be the responsible thing to do. To protect her from potential heartbreak down the line.

But even as I consider it, I know I won’t. The thought of not seeing her makes my chest tighten. Maybe I’m not a homicidal maniac anymore, but I’m still a selfish asshole, apparently.

“Come on, Paulie is waiting,” Matteo says, heading down a long hall.

I follow Matteo into a dimly lit room with plush leather sofas and a well-stocked bar. It's clearly designed for private meetings and discreet conversations.

As I settle into the comfortable seats at the table, Matteo goes to the bar. “Want a drink?”

“Nah.”

“Suit yourself.” He helps himself to scotch and then joins me.

"So, what exactly are we here for?" I ask, wanting to focus on something other than the Lothario I used to be.

He leans back, sipping his drink. "Just a routine check-in. The manager here, Paulie, keeps everything running smoothly."

I nod, though I'm not entirely sure what that entails. Before I can ask for more details, the door opens and a man in his fifties walks in. He's well-dressed, with slicked-back hair and a gold watch that catches the light.

“The reports of your death were greatly exaggerated, I see.” He moves to me, thrusting out his hand. “Lazaro, good to see you home again.”

I search his face for any hint of recognition but come up empty.

I shake his hand. “Death?”

I glance at Matteo. “Considering our line of work and your… temperament, most assumed you’d been killed. Lana never did, though.”

It makes sense. I mean, who wouldn’t want to kill a mad dog?

“Good to see you too, Matteo.” Paulie settles into a chair across from us, his expression turning serious. "So, gentlemen, I’ve got the club’s financial details here.” He pulls out a sleek leather folder, spreading sheets of paper across the table between us.

"Earnings are up 15% since last month." Paulie points to a column of numbers.

I nod, trying to look like I understand what I'm seeing. The truth is, these numbers mean little to me.

Matteo scans the reports. He nods approvingly at certain figures, his finger tracing along rows of data.

"And here," Paulie continues, flipping to another page, "is the breakdown of the capital we've managed to launder through the club this month. Since that fuckhead Hartley has been sent to the loony-bin and isn’t fucking with us anymore, you can see things have returned to normal."

Hartley. I’ve heard that name before. Then it comes to me. Lana’s new boyfriend's ex-partner. The one who thinks I killed his father. Did I? At the time, I couldn’t imagine I would, but the mad dog may have. Probably did.

A blurry image of an alley and a group of menacing men filters into my head.

“Lazaro?”

My attention jerks to Matteo. “Huh?”

“You okay?”

I force a smile. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

“Paulie was wondering if you wanted your old table back.”

I swallow. “Ah… nah. I’m still adjusting. But soon, maybe.”

Paulie’s eyes narrow, studying me. “Well, whenever you want to come back, we’ll have it ready. We’ve got a few new dancers who might interest you.”

I nod like that sounds great, but it doesn't.

Matteo and Paulie wrap up their conversation, discussing a few final details about the club's finances. Despite my best efforts to follow along, most of it goes over my head. I'm just relieved that the meeting seems to be concluding without any issues.

Matteo closes the leather folder and pushes it back toward Paulie. "Everything seems to be in order, Paulie. Elio is happy how things are going. Keep up the good work."

Paulie nods, a smile spreading across his face. "Thank you, gentlemen. I appreciate your trust in me."

They stand and shake hands, the gesture signifying the end of our visit. I follow suit, shaking Paulie’s hand as well, hoping my grip conveys a confidence I don't feel.

As we make our way out of the back room and through the club, the tension in my shoulders eases. I hadn't realized how on edge I'd been, half-expecting another violent confrontation like the one at the warehouse. But this meeting had gone smoothly, without a hint of trouble.

“Don’t be a stranger, Lazaro.”

I turn to see the brunette licking her lips at me.

I give a wave and then hurry outside. I take a deep breath of the cool air.

Matteo claps me on the back, grinning. "See? Told you it'd be an easy job. No guns, no violence, just like I promised."

I nod, offering a small smile in return. "Yeah.”

“Before long, you’ll be able to take over the gentlemen's clubs again.”

I can imagine the former me would have liked that. Women oozing sex. Loud music. Money coming in hand over fist. But right now, not so much.

Worry seeps in. Is there a way for me to fit into the family that doesn’t involve my fist or my dick? Will they want to keep me around if I don’t return to the Lazaro they know? Will I want to stick around if they continue to want me to be that man?