Page 207 of Lorenzo

As if he can read my mind, Edoardo breaks the silence. “How much does Donna know?”

Every face turns toward me.

I reach for the folder and close it.

“She brought me Lakeview.”

“But she doesn't know about Marcello?” Mario confirms.

“No. Not yet.”

Mario’s eyebrows rise slightly. “Not yet? Do you plan to tell her?”

I think about Donna sitting in front of the fire last night, papers spread across the table, watching my face instead of the documents because she knew I was hiding something.

She had spent days tracing corporations created specifically to make money difficult to follow.

Then she found Lakeview.

And somehow she knew that I knew more than I was willing to tell her before she ever walked through my door.

“She knows I know something,” I say by way of explanation.

Alessio and Edoardo exchange a look, quite familiar with Donna and her ways by now.

“And she let you get away with not telling her?” Alessio asks.

“I am imagining how well that went,” Edoardo muses.

“Poorly.”

Alessio laughs.

“She was angry?” Diego asks.

“Confused.”

Which is worse.

Donna handles anger well. Confusion irritates her.

She told me so herself while looking as though she was deciding whether she wanted to strangle me or throw her coffee at my head.

“You think she's going to leave it alone?” Mario asks.

“No.”

“Then what was the point of telling her nothing?”

I look at him.

“I needed to bring it here first.”

It’s true.

Lakeview was part of the family’s move into Chicago.

Marcello may blame me personally, but what happened did not happen in isolation.