Author's Pov.Matteo walked into the room next door. The room was larger, with the same damp brick walls, concrete floor, and a punching bag hanging in the center. He took off his jacket, hung it on a chair, then started punching the bag. One, two, three. Punch after punch, hard, like he was releasing years of pent up anger."Lucia... Lucia... Lucia..." he muttered between punches.He imagined Lucia's face. The face that would be the key to his salvation.He stopped punching. His breath was ragged, sweat streaming down his forehead. He grabbed a towel hanging beside the bag, wiped his face, then walked to a table in the corner of the room. On the table, a phone was ringing. He answered it."Hello, Boss."The voice on the other end sounded deep, firm, and full of authority."How are things, Bianchi?""Everything is going according to plan, Boss.""Is Isabella already in your hands?""Yes. She's here.""Good. Don't let her escape. She's the key to getting Lucia.""I understand, Boss.""
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