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I shrug. I know we’re safe tonight, but at some point, our luck may run out. I can’t let my guard down, especially since Lutz and Hartley are like dogs with a bone. They won’t give up easily. They’ll be back, with more questions, more accusations. Rinella will see to it.
If only Elio had been able to placate Rinella. My brother had always been tough as nails, a true leader for our family. Butever since he ran into Piper again, it’s like he’s been distracted. Sometimes, it seems like he’s gone soft. Sure, he'd arranged to sink Rinella's boat, a move that would've made our father proud, but it feels like too little, too late. The old Elio would've nipped this problem in the bud before it even started.
Don't get me wrong, I’m happy for him. He deserves some happiness after everything we've been through, losing our brother and then our parents. But the family needs strong leadership now more than ever, and it feels like I’m the only one who thinks so.
Thinking of my lost twin brother brings his memory back. God, how I miss him. His absence has left a gaping hole in my life. He taught me a lot about standing strong, and it’s helped me become a woman with determination and an iron will. But it wasn't the same. Lazaro was my other half, the Yang to my Yin. Without him, I've become more solitary, some might say colder.
If Lazaro were here, he'd know exactly what to do about the Rinellas and their petty games. He wouldn't stand for this nonsense of their calling the cops on us on a regular basis. No, Lazaro would make sure they understood the consequences of messing with the D'Amatos.
I glance at Lutz and Hartley and my resentment grows. Not only are they allowing themselves to be pawns in a Mafia game, but they didn’t do shit when I filed the missing persons report on Lazaro. Funny how they care so much about finding wrongful doing on Rinella’s behalf but did nothing to look for Lazaro. I have to wonder if perhaps they’re on Rinella’s payroll.
Right now, there’s nothing I can do but play this game until they leave and Elio gets home and deals with Rinella. I hate that. I’m not a woman who likes to wait. I prefer action, just like Lazaro did. I can hear Elio responding to that with, “And that’s likely what got him killed.” Except he’s not dead. I have no proof of that, but I feel it deep in my gut.
Right now, though, Lazaro isn't here. It’s just me, standing alone in the cool night, trying to hold our family together while Elio plays house and our enemies circle us like vultures.
2
HENRY
Lana D'Amato is a vision in black, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, those amber brown eyes sharp as ever. Even surrounded by the chaos of cops invading her space, she exudes an irreverent and icy confidence that's both infuriating and captivating. She’s young, maybe mid-twenties, and yet she shows no fear. We’re like annoying gnats she’ll squash, not police who’ll put her in jail.
“We’re doing our jobs,” Hartley says curtly.
“You’re doing someone’s job,” she quips.
It takes a moment, but I realize she thinks we’re associated with another Mafia Family. The barb bugs me. A lot. I’m no saint, but I believe in the law, and I use it to serve for good, not to help the bad.
“This must be getting tedious even for you. Unless, of course, you’re stalking me.”
She’d made a similar comment in jest when we first met in her office several days ago.
I smirk, enjoying her banter even as I know it’s dangerous. She’s beautiful, smart, and brave. She looks at me in a way thatI think she respects me even if she hates my job. Hartley, on the other hand, she looks at him like he’s lower than pond scum.
“No stalking. It’s your behavior that has brought me here.” I lean closer. “Perhaps you want to see me,” I banter back. This is the same dance we moved to the first time we met. It’s inappropriate, and yet… exciting.
She laughs, and even with the condescending tone to it, there’s a musicality. “Not in this or any lifetime, Detective.”
I turn away from Lana, nodding to Peter. We walk a few paces from the scene, out of earshot.
"What do you think?" Peter asks, his eyes never leaving the D'Amato warehouse.
"Same old song and dance. We have to remember that this isn’t their first rodeo. They were raised in this life. They're good at covering their tracks."
Peter's jaw clenches. "How do they do it? They wave crime like a banner under our noses and get away with it. Not just this, but murder too. They're responsible, Henry. I know it in my gut. My father didn't just die for nothing."
I've heard this a hundred times before, but the raw pain in Peter's voice still hits me. His father was a good cop, one of the best. His murder three years ago rocked the department, and it's been eating at Peter ever since.
Peter is convinced the D’Amatos were the ones who killed his father, but there is no proof. So, Peter’s relying on other crimes to put them away. I can’t blame him. The law doesn’t always work the way it should.
"Look, I believe you," I say, trying to sound reassuring. "But we need more than just a hunch. We need solid evidence."
Peter's eyes flash with anger. "Evidence? They're criminals, Henry! Every breath they take is a crime against this city. My father knew it, and they killed him for it."
I hold up my hands, placating. "I know, I know. And I'm with you on this. We'll get them, eventually. But we have to do it right, or they'll slip through our fingers."
Peter nods, but he doesn’t relax. The tension remains in his shoulders, and his hands ball into fists at his sides. His obsession with bringing down the D'Amatos has only grown stronger over the years. The intensity of it had his last partner asking for a change. I can handle him, but sometimes, I worry about how far he'll go to get justice.
I turn back to Lana, my eyes narrowing as I study her face. She's a puzzle I can't seem to crack, and it's driving me crazy that I want to, and not necessarily in an effort to protect and serve.
