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Peter's head snaps toward me, his eyes narrowing. "Lazaro? Why the hell would we waste time on that?"
"Well, it's an unsolved case, and if we could figure out what happened?—”
"What happened is he probably pissed off the wrong person and got himself killed," Peter cuts me off. "Good riddance, if you ask me."
"But it could point to clues that help us.” I shift, feeling oddly like I’m betraying Lana by suggesting using Lazaro to put her and her family in prison. “If he went missing because of Family business, that could?—”
"Lazaro was a violent psychopath who got what was coming to him. The only thing I care about is bringing down the D'Amatos who are still breathing."
His reaction catches me off guard. I know Peter has a grudge against the family, but this level of bitterness is unsettling.
"Look, I'm just saying it might be worth looking into. Could give us leverage?—"
"Leverage?" Peter laughs humorlessly. "We don't need leverage. We need to nail these bastards to the wall. Lazaro's been gone for years. He's not our problem anymore.”
I blow out a breath realizing that mentioning Lazaro has struck a nerve. "It was just a thought."
Peter shakes his head. "Focus on the living, Henry. The dead can't hurt anyone anymore."
I stare at him, wondering why he doesn’t see how Lazaro’s case could help us learn more about the family. There’s something more at work here. I can't help but wonder just how deep Peter's dislike of the D'Amatos really goes.
At the station, I go to my desk, seeing the Lazaro D’Amato file sitting on top. I’ve boxed myself into a corner on this case. I’ve made a deal with the devil, a devil whom I’d give my right arm to spend a night with. Dinner. Talk. Sex. All of it, I want with Lana. The smart thing would be to drop Lazaro’s case—hell, the D’Amato case as well—and focus on something else. How can Iwork these cases without dealing with Lana? How can I deal with Lana and not want her, especially after last night?
But if I did that, I’d be denying who I am. I’m a detective who solves crimes to keep Chicago safe. I put criminals in jail, including beautiful, smart, exciting ones.
I rub my temple to ward off the headache that’s building. I have to be true to who I am. That means I need to keep on both cases. Lazaro’s investigation because even his situation deserves to be solved, and because it could lead to information that helps us understand the D’Amato’s operations so we can put them away as well.
I open Lazaro’s file and pray for the strength to resist Lana as I work to bring her family to justice.
11
LANA
Iwake with a start, my heart pounding and skin flushed. The vivid dream of Henry's hands on my body lingers, making me ache in places I'd rather forget. I roll over, trying to ignore the throbbing between my legs, but it’s no use. My need is off the charts.
I roll back, sliding my hand down my body and under the waistband of my panties. I take myself back to the moment before I woke up. Henry is kneeling between my legs, holding his cock as he rubs it over my clit. My finger serves in its place. I arch as pleasure spikes, rushing through my bloodstream.
In my mind, he presses inside me. He’s so long and he takes his time. I moan in frustration, wishing I had a toy to simulate reality. Perhaps I’ll order one since having sex with Henry again is off limits.
Fortunately, I have a good imagination, and as I think about how it was when he slid in and out of me, slow, then fast and faster, pleasure builds. My fingers move over my hard, wet clit. I arch back as my breath comes in quick pants.
“Fuck… I’m there… Come, Lana.” Henry’s words replay in my mind. I remember how he bucked inside me. They wayhis face held both pain and pleasure. The feel of his cock as he emptied inside me. My orgasm bursts through, my body shuddering as I try to keep the image of Henry in my mind.
But when the pleasure is done, the self-recrimination follows. I shouldn’t be having fantasies of him any more than I should be sleeping with him. It’s not a good sign that he haunts my dreams.
Damn him. I roll over, burying my face in the pillow to muffle a groan of frustration.
What the hell was I thinking? Sleeping with a cop. And not just any cop, but the one set on bringing down my family. It was reckless, stupid, dangerous. God, Elio would have every right to disown me.
And yet…
Even now, remembering his kiss makes my blood sizzle. Henry makes me feel alive in a way I haven't in a long time. Not since Lazaro was around to make life interesting. His memory hits me like a punch to the gut, effectively pushing Henry from my mind. I’ve gone from sexual frustration to grief. Both are sucky feelings to wake up to.
I throw off the covers and head for the shower. Under the hot spray, I sort through my tangle of emotions. Anger at myself for being so careless. Fear of the consequences if anyone finds out. But underneath it all, a traitorous excitement I can't quite squash.
For years, I've been going through the motions, helping keep the family business running, searching for Lazaro, pushing down any hint of vulnerability. With Henry, my shell cracked. It terrifies me how badly I want to feel that again.
But I can't. He's the enemy, no matter how good he makes me feel. I have to protect my family and find my brother. I can't let Henry cloud my judgment or compromise everything I've worked for.
