Seventeen minutes in, the match reached a boiling point.
Fiorentina built from the back as Bellotti played a short pass to Cataldi, who turned and immediately looked for Adriano making a run between the lines, and the pass arrived at Adriano's feet as he accelerated toward Atalanta's defensive third with Demien tracking his movement.
Adriano touched it forward once and prepared to turn, but Demien had seen enough.
Every pass Adriano completed, every run he made, every smirk he threw over his shoulder—it all added weight to the anger that had been building since the bathroom confrontation, since the opening goal, since the memory of Elena's shocked face and Adriano's casual shrug three years ago.
Demien lunged forward as Adriano's foot came down to touch the ball again, and his studs caught Adriano's ankle with force that came from frustration more than tactical necessity, and the contact was sharp and rugged as Adriano's leg was swept out from under him.
