29. Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Twenty Nine
Lorenzo
The next morning, I stand at the windows in Mario’s office at Conti Enterprises and look down at the stop-and-go of traffic in the steady rain along the street while my brothers settle in behind me.
I did not sleep particularly well.
Donna did, eventually, after spending hours going over the plan from every possible angle and then arguing with me when I suggested several modifications designed primarily to keep her farther away from the dangerous part of it.
She rejected every one.
I rejected several of hers.
Somewhere around midnight, we reached something resembling a compromise, although I suspect Donna would describe it as me finally accepting that she knows how to do her job.
She is probably right.
That does not mean I have to enjoy it.
I turn away from the windows and cross back toward the seating area in front of Mario’s desk. Ricardo has taken one of the chairs, Diego another, while Mario remains behind his desk with a cup of coffee in his hand.
I sit and rest one ankle over my opposite knee.
“Donna and I talked last night,” I begin.
Diego’s mouth immediately curves.
I point at him. “About Marcello.”
“I said nothing.”
“Your face did.”
“Not much I can do about that.”
Ricardo glances at him. “No matter how much we wish it were so.”
Diego gives him an unimpressed look, and Mario takes a sip of his coffee.
“Continue,” Mario says before either of them can derail the meeting.
“We know Marcello is going to come after Donna one way or another.” I look between them as I speak. “The break-ins make that obvious. Whether he sees her as a threat because of the investigation, leverage against me, or both, he has already turned his attention toward her.”
A fact that I hate, but one that can't be ignored.
Yesterday, I could look at the facts and treat them as a problem that needed solving. This morning, after waking with Donna beside me and Mocha sprawled across the rug near the bed, the same facts feel more personal.
I spent years believing there were certain fears I had already endured and would never have to revisit. I knew what it was to worry about my sons. I knew what it was to understand that loving someone gave the world another way to hurt me.
Donna has managed to remind me of that with remarkable efficiency.
“Waiting for Marcello to decide how and when he wants to make his next move gives him the advantage,” I continue. “So, instead, we push him into making one.”
Mario lowers his coffee.
“A trap.”
“Exactly.”
Ricardo leans back in his chair, considering it. “You want to make him believe he has to act immediately.”
“Yes.”
Diego shifts in his chair. “And how exactly would that work?”
I glance toward him.
“Donna has an idea.”
That earns me three different reactions.
Mario remains watchful. Ricardo’s brows rise slightly. Diego looks entertained.
I ignore all of them.
“She can make an inquiry about something connected to what she has already found. Nothing overt enough to look deliberate, but enough that if Marcello has people watching where she is digging, it should reach him.”
“What kind of inquiry?” Mario asks.
“One that suggests she has gotten closer to him than she actually has.”
Ricardo considers. “To make him think she is about to uncover something.”
“Yes. The point is to make him believe he is running out of time.”
“And you think that will bring him out?” Diego asks.
“I think Donna does.”
Diego’s gaze moves over my face. “You say that as though you remain unconvinced.”
“He has already broken into her office and home because he wants to know how much she knows. So yes, I am convinced it will work. I am less enthusiastic about the part where the woman I love gives Marcello Greco a reason to come after her.”
Ricardo gives a quiet hum of understanding.
Mario says nothing for several seconds.
He knows me well enough that I do not need to explain the rest. Every instinct I have tells me to take Donna somewhere Marcello cannot reach her and keep her there until this is over.
The problem is that Donna would never agree to it, and even if she did, hiding her does nothing to solve the actual problem.
Marcello would still be out there.
Still waiting.
Still choosing the moment.
I spent enough time last night listening to Donna dismantle every objection I raised to understand that she is right about one thing above all others: we have an opportunity now because Marcello believes he has the advantage.
If we can make him move when we are ready for him, then he loses it.
Mario folds his hands loosely over his stomach.
“Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
“No.”
Diego laughs under his breath.
I look at Mario. “It goes against every instinct I have to knowingly put Donna in danger.”
“Then why agree to it?” he asks.
“Because she is already in danger.”
The room quiets.
I lean forward and rest my forearms on my thighs.
“Pretending otherwise does not protect her. She is capable. More capable than I gave her credit for when this began.
“But more importantly, I trust her,” I continue. “I trust her judgment. I trust her instincts. She believes this gives us our best chance to force Marcello into making a mistake before he has time to come up with another elaborate plan.”
“And she is sure?” Mario asks.
“She is confident, yes.”
Mario studies me for another moment, then nods once.
“Then we will do it.”
There is something almost absurd about how quickly a few words can make a plan feel irreversible.
Last night it was Donna and me sitting together, discussing possibilities and arguing over risks.
This morning it becomes a family decision, which means people will be moved, security will be arranged, contingencies will be built, and Marcello’s options will begin narrowing whether he realizes it or not.
Mario reaches for the coffee again.
“Bring Donna to the house tonight for dinner.”
I look at him.
“We can discuss the details there,” he says. “There is no reason to make final decisions without her if this is her plan.”
That pleases me more than I expect.
Not because I thought Mario would exclude her.
But because there was a time when Donna was simply the investigator Julian recommended, an outsider we hired because Alessio needed help. Somewhere along the way, that changed.
Now Mario is arranging a family strategy with her present without appearing to find anything unusual about it.
“I’ll bring her.”
“We should have everything settled before she makes the inquiry,” Ricardo says. “Who stays close to her, who follows anyone who approaches, how far we allow Marcello to take it before we intervene.”
“And what we do if he does something other than what we expect,” Diego adds.
Mario nods. “Exactly.”
I already know Donna will appreciate that part.
She has been very firm on the subject of everyone remembering that Marcello is unlikely to cooperate with our version of events.
My attention shifts toward Mario as another thought occurs to me.
“One warning.”
His eyes narrow immediately.
Ricardo looks amused before I have even said anything, which is irritating because he cannot possibly know what is coming.
“Where Donna goes, Mocha goes.”
Mario’s expression changes.
It is subtle enough that anyone who did not grow up with him might miss it.
I do not.
My eldest brother, who has stared down men twice his size without blinking and has spent most of his adult life making other people nervous simply by entering a room, suddenly looks wary.
I grin.
“You are sure that dog is fine around babies?”
Ricardo turns his head to hide his amused expression.
Diego presses his lips together.
I enjoy the moment more than I probably should.
“I certainly hope so,” I say. “He is going to be around babies quite a lot.”
Everyone goes still at those words.
I immediately realize I have given all three of them entirely too much information.
“That was not an announcement,” I add. “I meant your babies.”
Everyone relaxes. It's almost funny.
“I am serious, Lorenzo,” Mario warns.
“So am I.” I allow the teasing to fade because I know the question is not unreasonable. Leonardo is nearly six months old. Cecilia is not far behind him. “Mocha is extremely well trained, and Donna knows him better than anyone. He is a very good dog. He will be perfectly fine.”
Mario considers that for a moment. “All right.”
Diego glances at him. “You sound relieved.”
“I have an infant in my house.”
“You have also had armed security in your house for years.”
“Armed security does not have that many teeth.”
I laugh. “You realize Mocha is probably better behaved than half this family.”
“That is not a particularly high standard,” Ricardo says dryly.
“I was including you.”
“I assumed so.”
Mario picks up a folder from his desk and gives us the look that means the meeting has ended.
“Tonight, we go through the plan in full. Until then, nothing changes. No information leaves this room.”
Diego rises. “Understood.”
Ricardo stands as well, buttoning his jacket.
I push myself out of the chair.
“Lorenzo.”
I pause.
“Stay for a moment.”
Ricardo glances at me as he passes, but he does not ask why. Diego gives me a small shrug before following him toward the door.
A few seconds later, it closes behind them, leaving Mario and me alone. I remain standing for a moment before lowering myself back into the chair.
“What is it?”
Mario does not answer immediately.
That alone makes me suspicious.
My eldest brother is rarely hesitant about saying whatever is on his mind.
Mario sets the folder aside.
Finally, he says, “What did you mean about Mocha being around babies quite a lot?”
I stare at him.
Then I laugh. “You kept me behind for that?”
“Yes.”
“I was joking.”
“I know.”
“Apparently not, or we would both be doing something more useful right now.”
Mario’s expression does not change.
I know that expression too.
He is going to sit there until I answer whatever question he has asked.
“As I said, I meant your child,” I say. “Leonardo, Cecilia. Whatever additional children the two of you decide to produce.”
His mouth twitches.