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“Francesco, please,” Costanza called after him, hoping that enough time had passed that he’d lost some of the anger he had for her. But obviously, that wasn’t the case. Francesco was still angry, and she was still left on the periphery of what was going on. It’s not that Costanza didn’t care about what was happening with her family. She cared. She did. But as the family’s matriarch, she felt it was her obligation to look at the big picture. Big-picture thinking is what she specialized in and what made her family successful. It didn’t seem to be working at the moment. Maybe she would have to intervene more than Francesco anticipated. Costanza was ready to do whatever was necessary to preserve her family’s legacy despite her son’s anger.
When the doorbell rang, it startled Francesco even though he expected it given the time. Francesco didn’t wait for a servant to answer the door. He moved immediately in that direction and answered the door before the doorbell stopped chiming. He didn’t give the delivery person any opportunity to say anything. He reached his hand out, and the deliverer placed it in his hand. Francesco closed the door. His hands shook as he opened the envelope. There was a single card inside that Francesco nervously pulled out.
Costanza watched from the entryway to see how her son responded to the letter. She watched his face, trying to read him, but then Francesco turned his back, and she couldn’t see his expression anymore. She stepped out into the hallway and quietly padded toward her son. When she reached him, Costanza gently placed her hand on his back and then moved around him, coming face to face. The note was still in his hand. Costanza gained his eyes and, without words, asked for permission before taking the note out of his hand.
I gave the savior the address. You don’t need it. You’re not invited. Just hope Massimo kills me so you can get your wife and daughter back.
Costanza’s brow furrowed as she turned the card over in her hand. There had to be more to it. There just had to be. But there were no more words written on the card. Costanza then knew why her son looked so upset.
“Let’s place a call to the Ricci’s. They have to know more.”
Silently, Francesco pulled out his cell phone and handed it to his mother. She would have to handle the call. He just couldn’t.
Chapter Eleven
Massimo only slowed his vehicle down when he pulled into the parking lot of the address he’d been given. He thought about what his brother had said. Don’t rush in. He took a moment to survey the land before parking his car. There was a single building with no visible cars in the parking lot other than the one he slowly drove. Massimo confirmed the address via GPS, so he knew he was in the right place. He only had a few minutes to spare, so he had to survey quickly. He breathed low and slow, trying to keep his anger at bay. He needed to be keenly focused in order to handle what needed to be handled, and Alessandro needed to be handled.
Massimo focused on the building again. It was a single-story with only a few windows. But they were dark. That was strategic, Massimo thought as he pulled around the back of the building. There were two windows that flanked a single door. It was a perfect lookout. As he pulled back toward the front, Massimo noticed cameras. Whoever was inside could see what was outside, so he knew, as he parked his car, that he’d already been spotted.
That was fine with Massimo. He wanted Alessandro to know he was there, that he was not backing down from the fight. As he turned his car off, Massimo reached under the front seat, pulling out his pistol and tucking it in the back of his pants. He didn’t pull his key out of the ignition, just in case. He opened the car door and slowly stepped out. He looked over his shoulder and all around before closing his car door. His twenty minutes were up when he approached the front door.
“Can I at least put on my clothes?” Isotta asked from her place on the floor.
“Why?” Alessandro asked. “He’s seen you naked before.”
“But not filthy,” she replied, her voice low. Isotta was angry, but she knew anger would only be responded to harshly. She had to keep her emotions in check. She was aware of the meeting between Massimo and Alessandro, but Isotta refused to get her hopes up. She refused to believe that she would be saved. Believing was far too risky.
“You can put them on,” Alessandro scoffed as he eyed the monitors that tracked the cameras in and around his building. “I’ll just rip them off when I’m ready to fuck you again.”
Alessandro focused his full attention on the monitors.
“Right on time,” he breathed as he watched Massimo pull up in front of the building.
Alessandro lifted himself from his chair and exited into the larger room. His guards saw him and made their way over to him.
“He’s here. Move on my mark.”
Alessandro could feel the energy moving through his body. He’d waited for that moment for what seemed like an eternity, but now the moment was finally there. He would get to do to Massimo what had been done to him. He would get to embarrass and humiliate the man who did the same thing to him. He sent for Isotta. He wanted her to be front and center to the ass-whooping he was going to put on her husband. He also made sure Celestina was there as well. He didn’t care that she was rumpled and still wore the remains of the last guard who assaulted her. He didn’t cover either of their mouths. He wanted Massimo to be able to hear them scream. He sat the women close enough to see each other but not close enough to touch. Seeing them post torment, rumpled, sad, abused, and scorn made Alessandro feel that only added to the insult, to the injury he planned for Massimo.
“Take your positions,” Alessandro commanded.
Alessandro positioned himself in the middle of the room. He stood there waiting for Massimo to enter.
And then the door opened. Massimo paused before entering, again looking around and scanning his environment. And then his eyes registered Alessandro. A scowl immediately manifested. He resisted the urge to run in Alessandro’s direction.
“I’m here,” Massimo announced as he methodically moved in Alessandro’s direction, his eyes hooded and narrowed.
His heart thumped hard in his chest as he neared. Massimo saw Celestina, and then his eyes settled on Isotta. His heart lurched in his chest, and his feelings of anger intensified. What Alessandro had done to her was unforgivable, and he did it to get back at Massimo. He would pay for that. Massimo’s steps quickened, and his glare at Alessandro grew more intense. But Alessandro didn’t budge. He stood flat-footed with a slight smile on his lips. He enjoyed Massimo’s rising anger.
“You son of a bitch,” Massimo seethed between clenched teeth. He raised his fist to strike. And that’s when his movement was summarily halted. An armed guard appeared on each side of him, and one raised his hand, blocking Massimo’s strike. The moment he felt their hands on him, Massimo bucked violently in response, raring to get at Alessandro, whose smile widened in response.
“Did you think I was going to just let you walk in here and assault me?” Alessandro smiled, taking a step forward. He raised his arm, cocking it back as far as it could go, and then released a severe blow to Massimo’s jaw, causing his head to fly back and his knees to buckle. Isotta inhaled sharply. She would have covered her mouth if her hands were free, but they were bound to the chair she sat in. Massimo only had a chance for his body to respond physically before Alessandro struck him again, a decisive blow to the gut that doubled him over. He blew out hard, the strike decisive enough to wind him.
“Isotta. Don’t worry about Massimo coming to save you,” Alessandro said, stroking back his hair. “He’s not even strong enough to save himself.”
He eyed Massimo, who was just standing back up from being doubled over.
“Weak ass,” Alessandro huffed as he balled up both fists and hit Massimo with a one-two punch combination. Massimo’s head spun, and with the weight of the blows, the guards released him, and Massimo crashed to the ground. But Alessandro wasn’t finished. He was seeing red, reminded of all the humiliation he endured because of Massimo. Alessandro dropped to his knees next to the crumpled Massimo and issued a mirage of decisive punches to his face and wherever his fists landed. Alessandro felt Massimo’s lip burst under his fist. He felt Massimo’s rib crack under another punch.
