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“I don’t know,” Francesco confessed. “But I’m certainly going to find out. If this leads back to the Ricci’s, they will have hell to pay,” Francesco promised. “A lot of hell to pay.”
“Make me proud, son,” Costanza smiled. “Make me proud.”
Francesco had every intention of doing just that. She’d tested him with this last situation. He passed. As Costanza settled back into her work, she thought about her son. True, he had made some significant strides over the past week, demonstrating that he had burgeoning leadership skills. Still, Costanza felt the need to keep a tight rein on him, to hold him and the business close to her breast because Francesco still wasn’t there yet. He still didn’t have the cutthroat, decisive wherewithal to make the difficult decisions at the most critical times. She would still have to oversee and double-check all of what he did because he still showed signs of weakness.
And as she worked, her thoughts drifted to her granddaughter, Isotta. It was unnatural for her to see her grandmother and not address her, not even to acknowledge her presence. Something was amiss. Out of respect, Isotta should have greeted her grandmother. She didn’t. Costanza speculated while she worked, but the why wasn’t enough to absolve her of the feelings she had.
“Mr. Adele?” The nurse called out from his doorway. She quietly padded into his room. “It’s time to check your vitals,” she announced.
Ricardo had been resting with his eyes closed. It was a much better alternative than facing what he faced. He opened his eyes when the nurse put the blood pressure machine on his arm.
“I’m hurting,” he uttered, the pain all over his body rearing back to life as the pain medicine the hospital had prescribed started to wear off.
“I’m sorry about that,” the nurse replied as she pressed the stethoscope against his arm and tightened the strap. “You’ve got about another hour before we can administer more.”
“Another hour? That’s too long,” Ricardo complained. “I’m really hurting bad.”
“Just another hour,” the nurse replied. “I promise.”
Ricardo turned away from her, frustrated by her response. He was hurting. Both of his legs were in casts up to his hip. His other arm, the one the nurse wasn’t checking, was also fully cast. His head was wrapped in bandages to cover the stitched areas from the wounds he sustained there, and his eyes were still swollen, black and blue. Fortunately for Ricardo, his busted lip didn’t hurt so much that he couldn’t ask for what he needed.
“Your blood pressure is within the acceptable range,” the nurse commented as she released the sleeve. “Let me check your catheter, and I’ll be on my way.”
Ricardo tried to roll his eyes, but it hurt too bad to do so. He turned his head slightly away from her as she pulled back the sheet and lifted his hospital gown. It was completely embarrassing that he had to have a bag attached to catch his urine. He was even more embarrassed that he had to have a catheter physically inserted into his junk because, with both legs cast and the damage to his kidneys courtesy of Massimo and his bodyguards, he couldn’t make it to the bathroom. They had him on a liquid diet so that all he produced was liquid waste.
After she emptied the bag and ensured the catheter was properly in place, the nurse turned to leave.
“Please, please, please,” Ricardo said, placing his hand next to the one that was cast and putting his fingers together in a praying position. “Can you please give me my pain meds? I can’t take much more.”
The nurse paused. “Only if you promise not to tell.”
“I so promise,” Ricardo uttered.
The nurse pivoted on her heels and headed back to his bedside. She checked the medication’s timer on the IV attached to him. With the touch of a button, she overrode the prescribed timing. Ricardo felt the meds move into his arm and sighed. The effects were immediate.
“Remember, don’t tell a soul.”
“I won’t,” he drawled. “I prom-“
His words fell off as the medication took its effect. He closed his eyes again and basked in the pain relief.
A few hours later, Ricardo was still relishing the numbing of all the pains he felt when the telephone rang.
“Ugh,” he moaned as he reached for the receiver. He answered on the third ring.
“Hello?” He uttered, his eyes returning closed.
“Ricardo, how’s it going, my friend?” The voice on the other end asked.
It took him a minute. Ricardo couldn’t place the voice.
“Who is this?” He asked, still trying to figure it out.
“It’s Mr. Ricci,” Massimo answered. “How are you feeling?”
Ricardo’s eyes flashed open. He instantly felt nervous.
“I’m hurting if you don’t mind me speaking the truth.”
