Page 33 of Lost Prince

He leans back, sipping his drink. "Just a routine check-in. The manager here, Paulie, keeps everything running smoothly."

I nod, though I'm not entirely sure what that entails. Before I can ask for more details, the door opens and a man in his fifties walks in. He's well-dressed, with slicked-back hair and a gold watch that catches the light.

“The reports of your death were greatly exaggerated, I see.” He moves to me, thrusting out his hand. “Lazaro, good to see you home again.”

I search his face for any hint of recognition but come up empty.

I shake his hand. “Death?”

I glance at Matteo. “Considering our line of work and your… temperament, most assumed you’d been killed. Lana never did, though.”

It makes sense. I mean, who wouldn’t want to kill a mad dog?

“Good to see you too, Matteo.” Paulie settles into a chair across from us, his expression turning serious. "So, gentlemen, I’ve got the club’s financial details here.” He pulls out a sleek leather folder, spreading sheets of paper across the table between us.

"Earnings are up 15% since last month." Paulie points to a column of numbers.

I nod, trying to look like I understand what I'm seeing. The truth is, these numbers mean little to me.

Matteo scans the reports. He nods approvingly at certain figures, his finger tracing along rows of data.

"And here," Paulie continues, flipping to another page, "is the breakdown of the capital we've managed to launder through the club this month. Since that fuckhead Hartley has been sent to the loony-bin and isn’t fucking with us anymore, you can see things have returned to normal."

Hartley. I’ve heard that name before. Then it comes to me. Lana’s new boyfriend's ex-partner. The one who thinks I killed his father. Did I? At the time, I couldn’t imagine I would, but the mad dog may have. Probably did.

A blurry image of an alley and a group of menacing men filters into my head.

“Lazaro?”

My attention jerks to Matteo. “Huh?”

“You okay?”

I force a smile. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

“Paulie was wondering if you wanted your old table back.”

I swallow. “Ah… nah. I’m still adjusting. But soon, maybe.”

Paulie’s eyes narrow, studying me. “Well, whenever you want to come back, we’ll have it ready. We’ve got a few new dancers who might interest you.”

I nod like that sounds great, but it doesn't.

Matteo and Paulie wrap up their conversation, discussing a few final details about the club's finances. Despite my best efforts to follow along, most of it goes over my head. I'm just relieved that the meeting seems to be concluding without any issues.

Matteo closes the leather folder and pushes it back toward Paulie. "Everything seems to be in order, Paulie. Elio is happy how things are going. Keep up the good work."

Paulie nods, a smile spreading across his face. "Thank you, gentlemen. I appreciate your trust in me."

They stand and shake hands, the gesture signifying the end of our visit. I follow suit, shaking Paulie’s hand as well, hoping my grip conveys a confidence I don't feel.

As we make our way out of the back room and through the club, the tension in my shoulders eases. I hadn't realized how on edge I'd been, half-expecting another violent confrontation like the one at the warehouse. But this meeting had gone smoothly, without a hint of trouble.

“Don’t be a stranger, Lazaro.”

I turn to see the brunette licking her lips at me.

I give a wave and then hurry outside. I take a deep breath of the cool air.