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For a moment, Henry and I stand by Lazaro’s car, our gazes holding but neither saying anything. A cool evening breeze sends a shiver down my spine. Or maybe it's the electricity crackling between us. I can't tell anymore.
I have the urge to trust him again. An urge my mind says is foolish, but something else inside me pushes me on. "Henry. Do you trust me?"
He pauses, his eyes searching mine. After what feels like an eternity, he responds. "Against my better judgment… yes, I think I do."
My heart skips at his words, telling me how important it was for me to hear them. "Then come on a drive with me."
He hesitates. I can practically see his mind weighing the risks, the potential consequences. But then he smiles, and it feels genuine. “Okay.”
14
HENRY
Islide into the passenger seat of Lana's Aston Martin, intrigued and a little more than happy at her invitation for a late-night drive. The truth is, as hard as the evening has been with our butting heads, I don’t want it to end.
As she pulls away from the curb, I study her profile in the dim glow of the dashboard lights. She’s a stunning woman. Confident, smart, and assertive, and yet at times, vulnerable.
She navigates the car through the busy streets in silence. But it’s not awkward. In fact, that crazy electric charge that zaps between us is still palpable. I don’t know where she’s taking me, but I'm more curious than nervous about where we're going. She’s not planning to kill me. At least, I’m pretty sure she’s not.
I'm tempted to break the comfortable quiet and ask where we're headed, but something tells me to let this mysterious journey unfold. There's an intimacy to this quiet moment that I'm reluctant to disrupt.
Lana steers the car onto Northerly Island and pulls into a spot facing the city skyline, kills the engine, and turns off the headlights.
The sudden darkness envelops us, broken only by the distant twinkling of Chicago's lights across the water.
In the dim light, I can just make out Lana's silhouette beside me. The city's glow casts a soft illumination on her features, highlighting the curve of her cheek and the glint in her eyes as she gazes out at the view. She almost looks ethereal, like a vision. It makes my insides ache. I’m captivated by this woman, helplessly caught by some invisible tether pulling me to her.
Does she feel it too? She must. How many times had she started to leave our dinner, only to stay? And like me, she knows whatever this is between us can’t ever work. In fact, we’re likely to end up destroying each other. Either her being with me will be a danger to her from those in her business, or my being with her will bring about my professional demise. And yet, here I sit, mesmerized by her.
I wonder what thoughts are running through Lana's mind as she stares out at the city lights. Is she grappling with the risks our being together creates? Is she thinking about her brother? About our investigation?
She breaks the silence. “It looks different from here, doesn’t it?”
“It does.” I wonder what she’d think if she knew I was talking about her and not the view of the city.
I glance over at her. She seems lost in thought. I'm tempted to ask what's on her mind, but something holds me back. This moment feels fragile, and I don’t want to break it by saying something that will upset her.
Instead, I turn my gaze back to the skyline, allowing Lana the space to process whatever thoughts are occupying her. Perhaps we’re at a turning point. A point that I should reflect on as well. Just days ago, I saw Lana as nothing more than a target for my investigation. Now, I see the complex woman behind the D'Amato name. Not just strong and beautiful, but a woman whodeeply loves her family, is fiercely loyal and protective of them. All good qualities.
She asked if cops saw her family as monsters, and the truth is, yes. Or at least unredeemable sociopaths. It’s how we view most criminals. I mean, bad things are done by bad people, right?
I know it’s not that black and white. I’ve certainly had to arrest people who deep down were good but got caught up in something that took them down a bad path. It’s harder to go after people you can empathize with, and that's where my shift in perspective with Lana becomes dangerous. Her family makes a living in crime. They’re not caught up. They’re driving it forward. And yet here I am, seeing the nuances of this fascinating woman and wanting to delve deeper, to know her better.
"Lazaro and I used to come here all the time.” Lana's voice breaks through the stillness, soft and tinged with nostalgia.
I turn to look at her, surprised she’s offering information about Lazaro without my asking. "Really?"
A faint smile plays on her lips. "Yeah. This was our secret spot. We'd sneak out here whenever things got too intense at home."
I can picture a younger Lana and Lazaro, seeking refuge in this peaceful place. It makes me wonder how much danger she was exposed to growing up.
"The first time we came here, we'd just turned fourteen. He stole a car from one of our father's associates and convinced me to sneak out for a joyride."
I laugh. "Fourteen? That's pretty brazen."
She laughs softly with me. “Yeah, well, that was Lazaro. He loved cars from a young age. He hot-wired the car like it was nothing and drove us here. I was terrified and exhilarated at the same time."
I shake my head, amused by their youthful rebelliousness. "I'm surprised you went along with it."
