Page 67 of Lost Prince
“Anna.” I rap on the door to her room off the kitchen.
She opens it but holds it partly closed. I’m too panicked to be annoyed by her fear of me. “Where’s Diana?”
Her eyes look at me with pity, something I’ve never seen from her before. “She’s left.”
“Left where? For how long?”
“She isn’t working here anymore.”
"Fuck!" I slam my fist against the wall next to the door, anger and frustration boiling over. I storm out to the garage, grabbing keys to the first car and speeding out to Diana’s apartment. How could she just leave? She knows I can’t stand it when she just disappears. If she doesn’t want me, she should tell me.
I reach Diana’s building and pound on the door. “Diana!”
It’s a few moments when a middle-aged man answers. Anger turns to rage. Who is with her?
I bust in, gripping the man by his T-shirt. “Who the fuck are you?”
He’s startled and afraid, and for the first time, I relish the terror in someone's eyes. “Jim…”
I glance toward the bed in the corner, expecting to find Diana. It’s empty. I scan the studio. It’s empty too.
“Diana!” I call out, thinking she might be in the bathroom.
“There is no Diana here. It’s just me.” Jim sounds like he’s about to piss his pants.
“Why are you here? Where is she?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I just rented this place a few weeks back.”
It takes me a moment for his words to filter in. I release him. “It was for rent?”
He nods, stepping back. Any moment, he’s about to call the cops.
“Do you know who was here before?”
He shakes his head. “No. When my wife kicked me out, I found this listed online. I swear.”
Now I feel like shit for terrorizing this man. “Sorry about…” I point to his neck. “I’m looking for?—”
“Diana. Yes, I get that. But I don’t know anything about her.”
I move toward the door. “I apologize. I’m worried. She’s disappeared.”
“I hope you find her.”
I leave and hear him bolt the door. Fucking hell. Where is she? She gave up her apartment? Why? Was it because she was with me? Or was it because she knew she’d be leaving? Did she leave on her own or did Lana fire her since I’m supposed to marry Ava?
I make a beeline to Henry’s apartment after getting the address from Matteo. I pound on Henry's door, not caring about the late hour. When he doesn’t answer quickly enough, I pound again.
“Lana!”
The door opens to Henry looking disheveled, wearing lounge pants and no shirt. “Lazaro. What’s?—”
I push in. “Where’s Lana?” I scan the apartment and see an empty bottle of champagne on the coffee table and a trail of clothes down the hall. No doubt, I’ve interrupted them. Well, too fucking bad.
Lana appears from the hall wearing an oversized shirt that’s likely Henry’s. “Lazaro. Is something wrong?” Her concern appears real, but Lana is an acting pro.
"Where is she?" I growl.