Page 58 of Lost Prince

Tears stream down my face as I look around the room that's become so familiar to me over the past weeks. Lazaro's scent lingers in the air, and memories of our time together flood my mind. The laughter, the passion, the love… it isn't real. Of course it isn’t. I knew it wasn’t and yet, I feel it down to my soul.

I move to my bag to pack up what few items I have. I pause, a shirt clutched in my hands. The thought of never seeing Lazaro again makes my chest ache. But how can I stay, knowing his family wants him to marry someone else? Someone who fits into his world in a way I never could?

Part of me wants to fight for him, to tell him how I feel and beg him to choose me. But Lana's words from weeks ago echo in my mind. I'm just temporary, a distraction. And now, with this potential alliance through marriage on the table, he’s moving on. Didn’t I promise her that when this time came, I’d leave without a word? But he hasn’t said he didn’t want me, hasn’t told me to leave.

I sink onto the bed, overwhelmed by indecision. If I stay and fight for Lazaro, I risk losing my job and any chance of staying close to him. Lana would surely fire me if she knew I was trying to interfere with their plans.

Would Lazaro even want me to fight for him? Or would he choose his family and their expectations over whatever it is we have? The uncertainty gnaws at me, making it hard to breathe.

I stand up, pacing the room as I try to sort through my tangled emotions. My eyes land on a photo of Lazaro with his siblings, their faces alight with laughter. They’re young. Lazaro is probably only eighteen or so. But it’s clear the three siblings are close. How can I compete with that kind of bond?

I decide to leave. I don’t have my apartment anymore, giving it up two weeks ago as a way to save money while I stayed with Lazaro. But I can get a hotel. And after that, perhaps I can make my way to my original destination of Minnesota. After all, Lola is fixed up well enough to make the trip.

But then I remember Lazaro's words from weeks ago, his playful threat to tie me to the bed if I ever disappeared on him again. Though he'd been teasing at the time, the memory gives me pause. Twice, he’d gotten upset that I’d left, and so I can't leave without a word.

With a heavy sigh, I sit to wait, to give him a chance to explain, even if it breaks my heart. I owe him that much.

Hours pass, and I alternate between pacing the room and sitting on the edge of the bed, my nerves frayed. Just as I'mstarting to think he won't come at all, I hear unsteady footsteps in the hallway.

The door opens, and Lazaro stumbles in. His tie is loose, jacket rumpled, and there's a glassy look in his eyes that suggests he's had more than a few drinks. But it's the lost expression on his face that truly catches my attention. He looks as adrift as he did when he first came home, all the progress of the past weeks seemingly erased.

As Lazaro sways into the room, his eyes land on my half-packed bag. His brow furrows.

"What're you doing?" he slurs, gesturing toward the bag.

I swallow hard, fighting back tears. "I… I figured Lana wouldn't want me here if you're engaged."

Lazaro's face darkens, and he spits out, "Lana can fuck off."

His vehemence surprises me, and I blink up at him, unsure how to respond.

He takes an unsteady step toward me, his eyes searching my face. "Do you want to leave?" His voice is suddenly soft and vulnerable.

I shake my head. "No."

He pulls me into his arms, holding me tight against his chest. "Stay.”

My heart races at his words, a mix of hope and uncertainty flooding through me. I want to ask him about Ava, about the marriage alliance his family seems to want. But fear holds my tongue. What if his answer isn't what I want to hear? What if he’s agreed to this marriage and this moment is just him seeking comfort from the demands of his family like he’s been doing for the last few weeks? Of course, in the past weeks, he came to me after fighting with Lana or a particularly tense situation when working with Matteo. Comforting him because he has to marry another woman seems wrong. And yet, I can’t force myself away.

Instead, I melt into his embrace, breathing in his familiar scent. My arms wrap around him, clinging to him as if he might disappear at any moment.

Lazaro's grip tightens. He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, his gaze searching mine. Then his lips are on mine, urgent and desperate. I kiss him back with equal fervor, pouring all my conflicted emotions into it.

As Lazaro deepens the kiss, I give in completely to my feelings, pushing aside my doubts and fears. For now, I'll take what I can get, savoring every moment with him while I still can.

22

LAZARO

Ican’t stop the spinning in my head… A marriage alliance.

The evening's conversation replays in fragmented snippets, each one adding to the chaos in my mind. I've never met Ava Rinella, and yet my family is ready to tie our futures together for the sake of business and power. Thank fuck Elio didn’t solidify the deal. The marriage to Ava is still just a suggestion, a possibility hanging in the air. But that brings little comfort as I grapple with the expectations placed upon me and the life I'm only beginning to rebuild.

After Rinella left, I wanted to escape to Diana and hide in the comfort of her arms, but Elio had other ideas. He called me to his office, where he and Lana made their pitch for this union, while Matteo stood at the back of the room. I wondered if he was there to block any attempt of escape I might make.

Elio and Lana spoke delicately, knowing my volatile nature. But that too pissed me off. They act like I’m fragile. And maybe I am. Who the fuck knows? But I don’t like being treated like a child.

"Lazaro, we need to consider this match,” Elio said with the authority that goes with being the head of the family.