28. Lazaro

28

LAZARO

I t's been a week since my talk with Lana. Life is still hard, but things are better between me and my family. Elio hasn't told Rinella my plans not to marry Ava. I suspect he hopes that if I can't find Diana and convince her to be with me, I'll give in and marry Ava.

When Henry calls and gives me Diana's whereabouts, I'm instantly on edge. Part of me wants to rush out immediately to find her, but doubt gnaws at me. Why did she leave so suddenly? Was it really just because she saw me with Ava? Or was there more to it?

Eventually, my longing wins out over my doubts. I grab my keys and head out, following Henry's intel to an apartment building across town. As I pull up, I see Diana exit from the building. My breath catches at the sight of her. She looks as beautiful as ever. I watch her, wondering if she’s happier without me. I think I see a weariness in her face that I hope means she misses me. Fucking hell, I’m such a dope.

She gets into her car, Lola, and I’m glad I’d tuned up the vehicle. Winter will be coming soon and she’ll need a safe ride. Like a lovesick puppy, I follow her a few blocks away where she parks and goes into a small café. I continue to spy, watching her sitting alone, fidgeting nervously with a mug in front of her. Is she waiting for someone? The thought makes jealousy flare in my gut, even though I have no right to feel possessive of her anymore.

I debate with myself about whether to approach her or not. I want to rush in and sweep her into my arms. But another part holds back, unsure of my welcome after how she’d run off without a goodbye.

As I sit there wrestling with indecision, I watch a man enter the coffee shop and join Diana at her table. My hands clench the steering wheel. Who is this guy? And why is Diana meeting with him?

A tingle tickles the hairs on the back of my neck. I get out of my car and walk toward the café, hiding in the shadows to get a better look at this asshole through the window. An unsettling feeling washes over me. Something about this man triggers flashes of images. I’m in an alley… a man—no, several men—rush me, fists flying, the glint of a knife. Even now, I feel a searing pain as the blade slices across my temple, leaving the scar I now bear.

I shake my head of the images, needing to be in the present. I look at him again. The images fly through my brain… weak and barely conscious, rough hands grab me, throw me into a van. The faces of corrupt cops swim before my eyes, their voices filled with hate as they accuse me of killing one of their own. And then nothing.

My eyes refocus on Diana and the stranger in the coffee shop. Old instincts flare to life, warning me of potential danger. Is this man another threat? Fear grips me. What if Diana is in a similar danger right now? My eyes lock onto her and the stranger, scrutinizing their interaction. Is she being threatened? Coerced? Or worse, is she willingly collaborating with this man against my family?

I stride into the shop, trying to enter unnoticed. I strain to hear their conversation, catching snippets as their voices rise and fall. My blood runs cold as I hear Diana mention maternity leave. Jealousy and suspicion ignite within me. She’s pregnant? Is this fucker the father?

The possibilities swirl in my mind, each one more painful than the last. I can't stand it any longer. I move toward them, my emotions a volatile mix of anger, hurt, and jealousy.

“You and the baby will be well taken care of.” The man’s gaze shifts to me, and his eyes flicker with recognition. He knows me. And I know him.

Diana turns her head to look at where her partner’s attention is directed. At first, it seems like she’s happy to see me, but then her expression turns to fear. Good. Because I don’t take kindly to being used and betrayed.

"You," I snarl at her. "I should have known."

"Lazaro, what?—”

I cut her off, taking a step forward. "Save it. I know what you are now. A spy for this motherfucker."

She shakes her head in disbelief. "What? No. I’m on a job?—”

"Don't lie to me!" I roar, not caring that the few others in the café turn to stare. "It all makes sense now. How you always seemed to be there, always knew what to say. You were planted to keep an eye on me, on my family, weren't you?"

She looks at me like I’m a monster. Like I might hurt her. And that, the idea that she thinks I'd hurt her physically, cuts as deep as any knife.

The man watches me with concern, but also smugness. He’s enjoying this. It sends my rage into the stratosphere. “Tell me, Diana, does he know just how far you were willing to go for your little undercover operation? Does he know how you fucked me? Sucked my cock?”

Diana gasps, her eyes filling with tears. "Lazaro?—”

"Save it. I'm not interested in your lies anymore." I turn back to the man… Peter Fucking Hartley, Chicago cop.

The smug look on his face fuels my anger. "You know that baby she's carrying? It could be mine. Not that I believe it for a second, but hey, who knows how deep her deception goes, right?"

The hurt in Diana's eyes is palpable. Guilt tries to worm its way in, but I’m too consumed by my own pain to let it.

“And him… I guess he’s told you, Diana, all about how he and cop buddies ambushed me. Beat me. Cut me. And left me for dead.”

She turns to Peter in shock and then back at me. "I honestly don't know what you're talking about. I’m here for a job?—”

“I don’t fucking care anymore.” I look at Peter. "Did you enjoy it? Watching me bleed out in the dirt, thinking you'd finally rid yourself of Lazaro D'Amato? Well, guess what, mother fucker, I’m alive. And soon, you won’t be."

“Lazaro.”

I look at Diana, searching her face for any sign of guilt or complicity. But all I see is confusion and fear. For a moment, doubt creeps in. Could I be wrong about this?

"Rumor was you didn't have a memory," Peter says, his tone dripping with condescension.

"Apparently, your ugly mug was too hideous to forget," I snarl back.

Diana glances between us. “What is going on?”

I ignore her, keeping my focus on Peter. The memories of that night flash through my mind again. The ambush, the beating, the searing pain of the knife. My body tenses, ready for a fight.

"You thought you'd finished me off, didn't you? But here I am, back from the grave. I’m going to haunt you until your dying day, Officer Hartley.”

“Officer?” Diana looks at her companion. I’m beginning to think she really is clueless as to what’s going on. I don’t like that feeling. Uncertainty.

“I trusted you. Let you into my home, my bed. Was it all just part of the plan? Get close to me, learn our secrets so he can try to kill me again? You know this asshole tried to kill Lana too, right?" I tell her.

Diana’s shaking now. “I don’t know any of this.” She rises, looking unsteady. The protective instinct in me wants to reach out and steady her. I fight against it.

“I swear, Lazaro, I don’t know what’s going on here. I thought this was a job interview.”

Before she can finish, Peter leaps to his feet. In a flash, he grabs Diana and yanks her against him, pressing a gun to her temple.

Terror fills her eyes. Around me, the café patrons scramble from their seats, knocking over chairs in their haste to escape. A woman clutches her child to her chest as she rushes for the exit. An elderly man stumbles, nearly falling in his panic to get away.

My eyes dart back to Diana, her face pale with fear as Peter presses the gun harder against her temple. Her chest heaves with rapid breaths, and she’s trembling. Her eyes meet mine, filled with confusion and terror. I want nothing more than to rush to her, to protect her. It’s a soul-deep, protective feeling. It washes away the doubt. She’s a pawn in his sick game, I realize. I need to play this carefully or we’re both dead.

I take a cautious step forward, but Peter tightens his grip on Diana, making her whimper.

"Let her go. You’ve got what you want. Let her go and I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I want you and your family dead.”

“What is your fucking problem, anyway?” I ask him. “Why do you have such a hard-on to kill us?” I try to remember back to what Henry had explained. Something about a dead cop?

“Don’t come near me.” Peter backs away, dragging Diana with him. Tears stream down her face as she looks at me pleadingly. She’s looking for a hero. I’m no hero. But I am a protector. Isn’t that what Lana said?

“Why are you doing this?” I say more calmly. I don’t want him so agitated that he fires the gun by accident.

“You killed my father.”

My blood runs cold at Peter's accusation. The thought of being a murderer sickens me, and yet, I’ll kill this man with my bare hands if I get the chance. Had his father wronged me and my family?

"Maybe," I say, forcing a cold smirk onto my face even as my stomach churns. "Who was your father, anyway?"

Peter's eyes narrow with hatred. "Detective Brad Hartley. Decorated officer. He died four years ago by your hand."

As soon as he says the name, a flood of memories washes over me. I see flashes of a stern-faced man in uniform. He wasn’t a cop we could buy, but I don’t remember him being an asshole like his son. In fact, in my mind, he’s alive, suggesting I break from my family as he arrests me for stealing a car. I think I must have been fifteen at the time. He encouraged me to find a legit career. It was almost as if he cared.

What is clear to me in my foggy memories is that I did not kill him. "Brad Hartley. I remember him. But I didn't kill him."

Peter's grip on Diana tightens, making her gasp. "Liar!”

“I’m not lying. I sort of respected him. You’re nothing like him.”

Peter’s eyes flash with hatred. "You expect me to believe that?"

“That you’re nothing like him? Yes. He’d never torture a woman or hold an innocent woman hostage. He tried to help me, you know.”

“You’re full of shit.”

I shrug. “I didn't kill him. I was set up. Someone wanted your father dead, or maybe they just wanted me out of the way and used your father to get it done, blaming me. But I didn’t kill him. Nor did my family. Now let Diana go?—”

“NO! You're just trying to save your own skin. You deserved to die that night. How the hell did you even survive?"

“Takes a bigger man than you to kill me, Pete.”

Peter's grip on Diana tightens, his knuckles white around the gun.

“Maybe that's why I lived. Maybe your father’s ghost didn’t want you to kill an innocent man and he saved me.”

“My father wouldn’t give you the time of day.”

I take a small step forward, my gaze never leaving Peter's face. “Except he did. I wasn’t joking. He tried to get me out of the family business. I’m too stubborn, I guess. Or I love my family like you claim to love yours. Then again, maybe I survived so I could finally take vengeance on the man who's been terrorizing my family."

Peter's face contorts with rage. "You're lying. I don't believe a word coming out of your mouth, D'Amato. You killed my father, and now you're going to pay."

He presses the gun harder against Diana's temple, until her head is nearly resting on her shoulder. His eyes are wild with hatred. "I'm going to kill her. I'll do to her exactly what I did to your precious sister, Lana."

My blood runs cold at the mention of Lana. I don’t know the details of what he did except it involved torture that still haunts her. I want to reach out and snap his neck, but I have to play this cool. I can’t let him see how much his words affect me.

"Why should I care what you do to your minion?" I gesture toward Diana with a dismissive wave of my hand. "She's your spy. A good fuck, yes, but come on, Pete, you know I’m a heartless bastard." For once, I want my ruthless, violent reputation to make this man shit his pants so he'll let Diana go.

Diana's eyes widen in shock and hurt at my words. If there were any hope she’d forgive me, it’s gone now. But as long as she and her baby live, it will be worth it.

Baby?

I shake my head. I can’t think of that now.

Peter laughs bitterly. "Nice try, D'Amato. I saw how you looked at her when you came in. You were jealous. You felt betrayed."

I shrug, maintaining my nonchalant facade. "Nah, I was pissed that she was spying on my family. I have to admit, Peter, she’s good at it. I’d have never guessed her to be so cunning."

“Everyone knows you stick your dick in any pussy,” he spits.

I shrug. “That too.” I have to finish this. “You know you’re a coward, don’t you? Using a woman as a shield. Having met your father, I know that’s not how he taught you to be a man."

Peter's face is so red and tense, I wonder if he's going to stroke out. “You don’t speak of my father.”

“He’s so disappointed in you.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

I press on. "If you've got a problem with me, deal with me directly. Let her go. You got what you want from her. I’m here."

I take a cautious step forward, raising my hands. "Let's settle this between us. Man to man. Or are you too scared to face me without a hostage?"

Peter's face twists into a maniacal grin, his eyes wild with a dangerous gleam. He lets out a chilling laugh that sends shivers down my spine. "You think I'm stupid, D'Amato? I know all about you and your killer family. The 'Mad Dog' Lazaro and his pack of wolves. You're all the same—murderers, thieves, scum of the earth."

Diana whimpers. I hate the terror I see on her face. I hope to hell I can save her.

"I think all D'Amatos deserve to die. Every last one of you. And I'm going to make sure that happens,” Peter finishes. Years of hatred and pain echo in his voice. This isn't just about his father anymore. It's about destroying everything and everyone I love.

"You're delusional. You really think you can take on my entire family?"

"I promise you, your family's days are numbered, and I'm going to enjoy watching you all burn. I already killed your parents."

What?

"God, what a lucky night that was. The car accident was real, you know. But when I arrived to answer the call and realized who they were, well… they were sitting ducks.”

Peter’s words send a new level of rage through me. I wasn’t expecting that. I’m certain Elio and Lana believe our parents' deaths were an accident.

“But you… you're like a fucking cockroach. No matter how many times I've tried to squash you, you keep coming back. It's almost impressive, really."

I take a deep breath, working to calm the storm ready to burst from me. I can't let my anger cloud my judgment, not with Diana's life on the line.

"You've failed to kill me how many times now? What makes you think this time will be any different?"

"Oh, I've learned from my mistakes. This time, I'm going to make sure you suffer before you die. Starting with her, you fucking cop killer."

I let out a low, dangerous chuckle, my eyes never leaving Peter's face. "You think calling me a cop killer is going to shake me? Please. I've been called worse things."

I take a step closer, my voice dropping to a menacing growl. "If you know so much about me, Peter, then you must know all the creative and painful ways I've hurt people who've crossed me and my family. The things I've done that keep stronger, scarier men than you up at night."

I love the flicker of fear in Peter's eyes.

“If you don't let Diana go right now, I promise you'll experience every single one of those methods firsthand. I'll make sure your death is long, slow, and excruciating. You'll be begging for the mercy of a quick bullet by the time I'm done with you."

I take another step forward, my entire body radiating deadly intent. "So what's it going to be? Are you going to let her go, or do I need to give you a demonstration of why they call me the Mad Dog?"