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"Let's just say Lazaro wasn't known for his tact or diplomacy. He was more of a 'shoot first, ask questions never' kind of guy. I’m being hyperbolic, of course.”
“Of course.”
“The point is, except for family, Lazaro didn’t exactly endear himself to people."
"I see.” I nod, encouraging her to continue.
Lana takes a sip of her wine. "After Lazaro disappeared, Elio spent months looking into every person my brother had ever crossed. It was an extensive list, as you might imagine."
"Did anything come of Elio's investigation?"
She shrugs. "Not really. Elio questioned a lot of people, made some threats, but ultimately came up empty-handed. It's part of why he believes Lazaro is dead. He figures if someone had taken him, they would have made demands or gloated about it by now."
“They wouldn’t gloat about killing him?” I’ve read all I could about how the Mafia works, including FBI profile reports, but it is definitely a world I don’t completely understand.
“To meet Elio now, you’d think he was a cupcake. But he’s not a man to fuck with. I’ll just leave it at that.”
I furrow my brow, processing this information. "You don’t agree with him that Lazaro is deceased?"
She lets out a long sigh. "I can't explain it. I just know he's out there somewhere. I can feel it."
I study her, intrigued. “Feel it?”
She sips her wine. “It’s a twin thing, I guess. I mean, we’re fraternal twins, but I guess nine months in the womb together gave us a special connection.”
I nod and think about my next question. “So, Elio didn’t learn anything but you did?”
“We were working together. He was the one who said I was wasting my time taking what we learned to the cops. But as you know, the police weren't exactly falling over themselves to help find Lazaro.”
Deciding to change tack, I ask about the other case that could be related. “Four years ago, a cop was killed not far from one of your family's properties. Ring any bells?"
The change in Lana's demeanor is immediate and stark. Her playful flirtation vanishes, replaced by a cool, impassive mask. She fixes me with a deadpan stare that could freeze hell over. It definitely made my balls shrivel.
“You think a few orgasms and expensive wine will have me betray my family?”
“I—”
“I mean, the orgasms were good, I’ll give you that, Henry, but?—”
I hold up my hand to stop her, but she keeps going.
"I thought we were past this game of cat and mouse.”
“It’s not a game.” I don’t like the disappointment in her eyes. Like I’ve let her down. Like I’m not the man she thought I was. As crazy as it sounds, it guts me.
“You proposed a scratch my back and I’ll scratch your back sort of deal, but in the end it’s just physical, is that it? Because you haven’t shared shit. I thought you were different.”
And there it is. She believed I was a man of honor, but now she thinks I’m just using her for a good fuck.
She tosses her napkin on the table. “Do you work for Rinella? Or maybe someone else?” Her gaze is scathing as she takes in my suit. “A guy who can afford this nice wine and fancy suit must be on the take.”
I understand why she’s pissed, and so I hold back my offense at her attack on my character.
“Do you look down on the cops who work for your brother?” I ask out of genuine curiosity.
“No, but they don’t try to fuck me over, either.” Her lips press shut as if she said too much. She stands. “This was a mistake.”
I reach out and take her wrist, knowing she’ll either slap me or one of her men might kill me. “Lana. Please. I’m sorry.”
