Vincenzo Catanzaro navigated the crowded streets with a sense of disdain. He couldn't believe how far society had fallen, where the weak and ignorant dared to challenge those who were stronger and more capable.
"A world where a weak woman can cuss at me without repercussions?" Vincenzo thought to himself. "A world where a spineless man can insult me without fear of retribution? This is not a world I want to be a part of."
As he walked, Vincenzo's mind wandered to his own life. He was a 19-year-old with no job, no connections, and no prospects. But he didn't care. He knew that in a world filled with weaklings, he was a force to be reckoned with.
Vincenzo's phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking his reverie. He pulled it out, expecting a mundane message from a acquaintance. Instead, he saw a call from an unknown number.
Vincenzo's instincts told him to ignore the call, but his curiosity got the better of him. He answered, his voice firm and commanding.
"Vincenzo Catanzaro," he said.
The caller introduced himself as Detective Luca Rossi, delivering news that would change Vincenzo's life forever:
"Vincenzo, I'm afraid I have some bad news. Your mother, Rosy Bianchi... she's passed away."
Vincenzo's eyes glazed over as he stared blankly at the wall. His mind struggled to process the words that had just been spoken. Detective Rossi's voice seemed distant, muffled by a thick fog that had suddenly enveloped Vincenzo's world.
The words hung in the air, refusing to sink in. Vincenzo's brain felt numb, unable to comprehend the magnitude of what he'd just been told. He blinked slowly, his eyes focusing on the detective's somber face.
And then, like a dam breaking, Vincenzo's emotions burst forth. His face contorted in rage, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity.
"Who?" Vincenzo spat, his voice low and menacing. "Who did this?"
Detective Rossi hesitated, his expression sympathetic. "Vincenzo, please... you need to calm down."
But Vincenzo was beyond reason. His anger had become a living, breathing entity, consuming him whole. He slammed his fist onto the table, making the detective jump.
"Tell me!" Vincenzo bellowed, his voice echoing through the small room. "Tell me who killed my mother!"
Detective Rossi sighed, his shoulders sagging. "It was her boyfriend, Alessandro Russo. We're still investigating, but it appears he... he snapped."
Vincenzo's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with images of Alessandro Russo. He pictured a scrawny, insignificant man, someone who thought he could get away with murder.
"I want to see him," Vincenzo growled, his voice dripping with malice. "I want to see him and his entire family."
Detective Rossi's expression turned grave. "Vincenzo, I understand your anger, but you need to let us handle this. We'll bring Alessandro to justice."
But Vincenzo was unfazed. His anger had become an all-consuming force, driving him to seek revenge.
"I'll take care of it myself," Vincenzo snarled, his eyes blazing with determination.
Detective Rossi's face turned stern. "Vincenzo, I'm warning you. If you take the law into your own hands, there will be consequences. You'll end up in prison, or worse."
Vincenzo sneered, his contempt for the detective evident. "You think I care about consequences? You think I care about your precious laws?"
Detective Rossi's expression turned cold. "Vincenzo, you're not thinking clearly. You're letting your emotions cloud your judgment."
But Vincenzo was beyond reason. He was driven by a singular focus: revenge.
"I'll show you what it means to cross me," Vincenzo hissed, his eyes blazing with fury. "I'll show you what it means to kill someone I care about."
Detective Rossi's face turned pale, but he stood his ground. "Vincenzo, stop this. You're not a killer."
But Vincenzo just laughed, a cold, mirthless sound.
"We'll see about that," he said, his eyes glinting with malice.
To be continued...