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Roberto’s head rocks back, blood spilling from his nose. He touches the blood with a finger and swipes it on his shirt. “Valentino, don’t do this.”
“Do what?” I advance on him, and unlike Vance, he skirts out of my reach. I’m spoiling for a fight, but I know I won’t get it from Roberto. “Are you here to defend your brother, Roberto?”
“There’s no excuse for what he did,” Roberto shouts desperately. “But if you go after him now, the way you are, you’re going to kill him.”
“Do I look like I care?” I laugh. “I want to kill him. Your brother has always been a thorn in my flesh. Taking him out will mean I’ll never have to deal with him again.”
“You know he’s your brother, too?”
“He’s not my brother,” I growl, reaching out to grab Roberto’s shirt and slamming him against the hood of my car. “And you better never say that to me ever again! He’s not my brother, and as of now, he has become my enemy.”
He struggles against me, but he’s no match for me. “If it means anything to you, remember Nonna Isadora. She is about to lose one grandson. Matteo is dying. Don’t let it be two. Please forgive, Federico.”
I push Roberto away, climb into my car, and zoom out of the garage.
I can only see red, and one thing’s for sure: I must make him regret what he did. Now that I think about it, I see that he organized the entire dance with the intention of recording me and showing it to Francesca. He knew she would see it out of context.
The bastard.
I arrive at Federico’s house and stumble out of the car without shutting off the engine. The door is locked, and I angrily ring the doorbell, careful not to speak so I don’t tip him off.
The door opens a moment later to Federico looking sullen, but his eyes widen when he sees me. He’s about to shut the door in my face, but I stick my foot in the door and push my way in.
“Good morning, Federico.” I smile, shutting the door behind me as I enter the house. “Were you really drunk yesterday, or was that just a pretense after what you did?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Federico rushes into the open-plan kitchen and grabs a knife, pointing it at me.
“Leave right now, or I’ll kill you.”
“Choosing my weapon for me?” I nod. “Great choice. “
“Get out, Valentino.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I am here to kill you, and I’m not leaving until I do.”
His eyes widen, and he gulps hard because he knows I’m not messing around. “Valentino, please, it was just a prank.”
“Don’t lie to me.” I shake my head. “You’ll make it worse.”
I start to take small steps towards him, and he inches away from me. I’m not in a hurry. I have all the time in the world. After all, it’s not like my wife is waiting for me to return home.
“It was in your plans all along, wasn’t it? You waited until I was on the plane before going to Francesca and showing her that video.”
When he doesn’t respond, I continue. “Why did you make that video?”
“I just did it, okay? I just thought it’d be good to have it.”
“For blackmail,” I answer. “Or to destroy my marriage.”
“You’ve known Francesca for how long? A few months, and yet you’re willing to throw your family to the curb for her? Is her pussy that good?”
I attack him. He swipes the knife blindly in my direction, and it cuts into my arm, but I yank it from his hand and turn it against him. When I trap him against the kitchen counter, he snickers, “You won’t kill me,” he says. “Matteo is in the hospital and if you kill me it will kill Nonna Isadora. You are not that heartless.”
God, I want to kill him. But I saw Nonna Isadora’s face yesterday, and it’s still fresh on my mind. With a cry of rage, I bury the knife into his thigh. He screams in pain.
“You’re right. You are alive because of her.”
I lift him in the air and fling him to the ground, nodding in satisfaction when he bangs his head against the tiles and curls into a ball. “I’ll do anything when it comes to Francesca, don’t fuck with me.”