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Before the guards could answer, Massimo spotted Ricardo. His pace quickened, and he walked with even more intention. As he neared, Ricardo caught sight of him. Instantly, his eyes grew larger, and he used his good hand to try and protect himself. But there wasn’t that much protection in the world, not for the mirage of punches and kicks that Massimo immediately threw at him. Ricardo couldn’t protect himself from every blow. He inadvertently put up his casted arm to try and block the onslaught of punches he was receiving, but that didn’t stop Massimo from pulverizing his face. And when he couldn’t hit his face, Massimo hit whatever was available.
He punched in a blinding rage. Giuseppe looked on but didn’t try to stop him. Massimo was so focused on what he was doing he growled, low and guttural, and consistently with every punch he threw. And then, when he thought about what happened to Isotta, that Alessandro had declared war against his family, a new surge of anger rushed over him. Massimo changed his focus from pulverizing Ricardo’s upper body to pounding lower. He struck Ricardo so hard in his side that he cracked several ribs. Ricardo cried out in pain and tried to cover up. He couldn’t run. He was still cast. All he could do was take the beating and try to protect himself the best he could.
“Please, don’t,” Ricardo begged, speaking through busted, swollen, and bleeding lips.
Hearing Ricardo’s voice only fueled Massimo even more. When he got tired of punching, he started kicking. That fueled rage completely consumed him, and he kicked Ricardo so hard in his leg that everyone within earshot heard it snap. Ricardo couldn’t protest anymore. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out. He was in so much pain, so much anguish, that he started to feel light-headed.
Even after Ricardo fainted, Massimo just kept beating on him until he was tired. Massimo finally stopped hitting and kicking. He ran the back of his hand against his forehead, pushing the hair back that had fallen into his face. Adrenaline pumped so hard through him that Massimo didn’t even realize he had bruised his left hand and fractured his right. And just as quickly as he approached Ricardo, Massimo pushed him out of the chair he’d been sitting in, turned on his heels, and walked toward the door.
“You’re not going to kill him?” Giuseppe asked. That had been the original plan, so Giuseppe was surprised when Massimo didn’t completely follow through.
“Not right now,” Massimo replied, his pace still quick. “Now, I’m ready for Alessandro.”
“But he hasn’t sent any more messages unless there’s something at home our parents didn’t tell us about,” Giuseppe replied.
“He will,” Massimo sounded. “And I’ll be ready.”
Massimo was just as intensely quiet as he had been on the drive over. He had a lot on his mind, and Giuseppe didn’t interfere. He just let his brother stew in silence. When they returned to their parents’ home and entered the house, both Giuseppe and Massimo could tell that something was going on.
“What’s happened?” Massimo asked, instantly thinking about Alessandro and Isotta secondarily.
“We got another delivery,” his father replied, slowly walking in Massimo’s direction and then handing him the envelope that had been delivered.
A similar ring of the doorbell brought a similar note to Francesco. Even though he was still angry with his mother, he didn’t object to her entering the hallway in response to the doorbell ringing. Costanza knew not to push. She needed Francesco to be able to focus on his wife and daughter. Whatever their disagreement, it would have to take a back seat because their kidnapping was far more pressing.
Slowly, Massimo and Francesco opened the envelopes and pulled out its contents. They each set the envelope aside and unfolded the letter. Everyone standing around waited with bated breath until they read the letter.
The time has come for us to come face to face. That comment was directed at Massimo because you, Francesco, are of little consequence when it comes to this part.
We will meet, and we will resolve the matter for both households. In twenty-four hours exactly, I will send the location of our meeting. If you fail to show, if you alert the authorities, I’ll kill them both slowly, Isotta and her mother. So, rest up, Massimo. I promise you will need all your strength to deal with me. In the meantime, I’ll keep fucking your wife and maybe your mother-in-law, too.
Massimo’s response was too angry to ball the paper up and throw it across the room.
“What did it say?” Giordano asked. Romina was too afraid to ask. She was too afraid to hear anymore. She was still devastated by the last contact from Isotta’s captors.
Massimo was so angry he could hardly see straight. He paced the floor in quick steps, his jaw tight and his eyes even tighter.
“Massimo, what did it say?” His father asked again.
“He wants to meet, which I don’t have a problem with because I want to meet with him, too.”
“And?” Giuseppe asked, fully suspecting that there was more to it.
“And,” Massimo sighed, stopping his pacing. “If I alert the police or don’t show up, he’ll kill them both.” Massimo didn’t say what else the letter said. He knew that the last line was really just for him.
“So, he didn’t say where he was, where he’s keeping them?” Giordano pressed.
“No. He will let me know twenty-four hours from now.”
“You can’t go,” Romina protested, taking a step toward her son. “It could be a trap. He could hurt you. He could kill you,” she cried. Feelings of worry washed over her, and Romina couldn’t shake it.
“Mom, I don’t have a choice,” Massimo replied. “Not only do I have to go, I want to go.”
“Please, Massimo,” Romina begged. “I don’t want to lose you.”
He walked over to where his mother stood. “You won’t. I promise.”
Romina wanted to believe her son. She wanted to believe that he could intervene on his wife’s behalf and return to her safely. Yet, despite his words, Romina was not convinced that Massimo could accomplish what he was determined to accomplish. Worry resided in her heart and soul, and it was completely unsettling.
