"You lie!" Osamu shrieked, her face once more twisted. "Why do you lie, Ricco? We always treated you like a son. Why would you lie about such a girl?" Her features turned sly. "You're fucking her, aren't you? I knew you would. Her mother was a whore on the street and her daughter is just like her."
"Enough, Osamu," Dai snapped, his back to her. Both hands were behind his back, his fingers clenching and unclenching in two tight fists. "Answer them immediately. Where is the boy?"
At the lash of Dai's command, Osamu sank back into her chair, looking small and defeated. She began to rock herself, her arms around her middle. "Where is he? Where is he?" Her voice rose in a singsong. "Where is he?" She chanted it over and over.
Dai turned from where he was staring out the window to look at his wife. To Mariko's horror, there were tears in his eyes. "Osamu, please. Tell them where Ryuu is, so they can go. You're becoming agitated again."
It was very difficult to watch Osamu's madness – there was no question that Mariko was looking at a woman totally insane. By turns she would look crafty and then, when she looked at her husband, she crumbled completely. It was all she could do not to go to the woman and try to comfort her. She must have made a move toward Osamu because Ricco's hand suddenly shot out and caught her wrist in a viselike grip.
The action drew Osamu's gaze and instantly her expression changed again. Hatred was stamped in every line of her face. "You're such a vile creature. Tempting men just like your mother. She ruined Daiki. Ruined him. He was a rider of unimaginable talent, but he was so weak, letting himself be seduced by that bitch."
Dai shook his head and left the room, his face lined with age and fatigue, with a terrible sorrow that was beyond all words. His shoulders slumped and he looked to Mariko as if he'd aged right in front of her.
"Osamu." Stefano's voice was very low, almost too low to hear, but the woman's attention immediately swung to him. "You were going to tell us where Ryuu is."
She shook her head and began to cackle again. "You'll never find him."
"Does Nao Yamamoto have him?"
Osamu tapped her knee hard with her fist. "He doesn't have long to live. Time is running out for him." She swung her head toward Mariko again. "You should have killed Ricco Ferraro, not fucked him." She threw back her head and began laughing hysterically as if she'd told a great joke. "Not that it would have done you any good, but the other riders would know how you broke the code and killed another rider."
"Osamu." Stefano brought her attention back to him. "We need to know where Ryuu is."
"You need? The oh-so-perfect Ferraros need something from Osamu?" She glared at Ricco. "I want my sons back. He took them from me. Give me back my sons and I'll tell you what you want to know."
"You know that's impossible, Osamu." Stefano continued to use her name in an attempt to keep her attention focused on him.
She leaned toward Ricco. "You're going to die, but before you do, you're going to suffer. Everyone you love will die, including that bitch in heat."
Ricco remained passive, refusing to rise to her bait, nor did he change expression. He merely looked at the woman. Mariko had the unfamiliar urge to shake her, to bring Osamu out of the craziness that seemed to take her over.
"What did Ryuu ever do to you?" The question burst out of her. "He loved you, Osamu. Like a mother. He thought of you as his mother. How could you help Nao hurt him? You never liked me, I accept that, but Ryuu was loving to you."
The fingers shackling her wrist tightened to the point of hurting her. She knew neither of the men wanted her speaking, but Ryuu was her brother, Osamu the only mother either of them remembered. Surely she had to have some feeling for Ryuu. He'd only been a baby when they were given to Osamu.
She tried to yank her hand out of Ricco's restraining fingers, uncertain whether or not she was going to fling herself at Osamu and force the woman to tell them where her brother was being held. He refused to let go of her.
"You tell me where my brother is right this minute," Mariko demanded.
Osamu surged out of her chair, flying at Mariko, hatred twisting the once beautiful face. In her hand she clutched a dagger she'd drawn from inside her cardigan. Ricco shoved Mariko aside as Osamu leapt the short distance between them. His chair went over with a crash as he stood, trying to judge when she would slash in the hopes of disarming her before she cut him.