Page 82 of Lost Prince

Lana gives me a watery smile. "I know that. Just as you know I can be a bitch. Just ask Piper. I said some rotten things to her too, didn’t I?”

“You didn’t mean them,” Piper says, squeezing her hand.

Lana laughs. “At the time, I did. Piper has a soft heart. Truth is, I’m not soft.”

“You seem soft right now,” I say, hoping I don’t poke her into bitchiness.

She laughs. “Now I’m going to be tough. Everything is going to be okay. Elio, Matteo, and Henry will make sure Lazaro is okay. Or knowing Lazaro, he’ll pull one of his magic tricks and deal with Peter.”

“Magic?”

“Let’s just say, Lazaro has gotten out of a lot of scrapes that he shouldn’t have. It must be magic.”

Her confidence is reassuring, while also bittersweet. When Lazaro returns, he’ll tell me to leave and he’ll be able to fulfill the duty Elio and Lana have asked of him.

"I'm sure Ava will be relieved when he returns," I say, trying to keep my voice neutral.

Lana's brow furrows in confusion. “Why would you—” Then her eyes widen with understanding. "Oh, Lazaro isn't marrying Ava. Why do you think I had Henry find you?"

“I don’t know.” I wonder if I’m dreaming. Or maybe I’m dead. Peter killed me and I’m in some netherworld.

"Lazaro loves you, Diana. He's been miserable without you. That's why I asked Henry to track you down."

I want to believe her. God, how I want to believe her. But I can't let myself hope, not yet.

"But… but Lazaro told me to leave.”

Lana rolls her eyes. “That sounds like my brother. Always trying to protect everyone, even if it means hurting himself in the process."

I bite my lip, torn between hope and fear. Lazaro's words echo in my mind. "Leave and don’t look back. Don't tell my family about your condition."

If he comes back, will he force me to follow his command? Can I fight it? Can I make him see that I’ve finally found my home… my family?

30

LAZARO

Iwatch Diana leave, hoping she'll do as I asked and head out of town without looking back. She didn't ask to be part of this life, this violence. If my family learns about the baby, they'll make Diana stay, but she deserves better than this life.

A baby? Is it really mine?My emotions run wild at the thought of being a father. A mix of shock, joy, fear, and regret washes over me. I never imagined this possibility. Now, it's all I can think about.

Yet here I am, staring down the barrel of Peter's gun. The harsh reality of my situation crashes back. I’ll never know this child. Never hold them, teach them, or watch them grow. A lump forms in my throat. I’m not afraid to die, but the idea of not being with Diana and watching our child come into the world breaks me.

I suck in a breath knowing there’s no sense in wallowing in what I’m about to lose. I find a strange sense of peace. Diana and the baby will be safe. That's what matters most. They'll be far away from this dangerous life, from the violence and chaos that follows my family. My child will have a chance at a normal life filled with love and light and adventure.

I lock eyes with Peter, steeling myself for whatever comes next. “This is your show, Pete.”

“I’ve waited so long for this. I almost can’t believe I’m here, about to get my revenge.”

I don’t point out that this is the second time he’s taken out his revenge on me. I suppose it doesn’t count since I didn’t actually die.

I glance out the window, noticing the darkness settling. The street lights flicker to life, casting long shadows across the pavement. My eyes scan the area, searching for any sign of movement. That's when I catch a glimpse of Matteo lurking in the shadows. I didn’t tell anyone I was coming here, so it’s a surprise to see him. I imagine Lana put some sort of tracker on my phone as a way to keep tabs on me. Any other time, I’d be annoyed, but right now, I’m relieved. Matteo or one of Elio’s men surely made sure Diana got away safe.

I turn my attention back to Peter, who's watching me with a mix of hatred and suspicion. I need to keep him focused on me, away from the window as I consider my options. Diana has pushed the ends of the tie into my hands, and I’m hopeful with a yank, it might come free.

“So, what’s next?” I ask.

He sneers at me. "You think you're some kind of hero, don't you? Advocating for that woman's release. But we both know the truth. You're nothing but a cold-blooded killer."