Page 216 of The Italian Obsession

Franco instantly gags at the chokehold around his neck. His feet are now dangling off the floor.

“R-Rici,” I stammer. “Just leave it. Let’s go.”

Franco struggles free. “I should have knocked you out last time, prick.” Franco throws a punch and misses spectacularly as we all dive out of the way.

Enrico grabs him by the throat once more. “I told you. Go near her again, and I’ll kill you.”

Natalie’s and Jennifer’s eyes widen in horror as they watch on. Oh, hell, this is appalling.

I glance over and see Maso and Marley standing to attention.

“Enrico,” I whisper angrily. “Leave him. He’s drunk, let’s go.”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Franco goads him. “I’ll show Olly what a real man can do.” He grabs his crotch for added affect. “She’s going to fucking love it.”

“Rici,” I warn him. “Let’s go.” But it’s too late, he’s already lost his temper.

Enrico punches Franco hard on the jaw, and he crumples to the floor in a heap.

“Stop it!” I cry.

Not happy with the result, Enrico drags him back to his feet. “Don’t you dare hit him again!” I snap as I look around at the people all staring at us. Oh, this is mortifying. “Rici, I mean it,” I whisper.

With total disregard for anything I’ve just said, he hits him once, twice, he hits him three times—the sound of his fist connecting with Franco’s face hard and brutal.

My eyes fill with tears. I can’t deal with this. I can’t stand his detached aggression. I storm toward the door.

Infuriated.

“Olivia!” Enrico barks behind me.

I’m just going to make a scene if I stay. I need to get out of here and away from him.

I begin to run. What the hell does he think he’s fucking doing? You can’t just hit people like that. It’s unnatural. He could kill him.

“Stop her!” I hear Enrico yell across the bar.

Maso runs after me and grabs my elbow. “Get away from me.” I push him hard in the chest and run out onto the street with Maso and Marley hot on my heels. I jump into the back of a cab.

“Drive!” I force out.

“Where to?” the driver says casually.

My eyes fill with tears. God, where do I go? He will come and get me wherever I am, anyway. There’s no point going anywhere. I just didn’t want to fight with him in a crowded bar in front of everyone, that’s all.

I give the driver the address of the apartment in Milan, and I rustle through my handbag to dig out my key and clutch it tightly in my hand. I turn and look out the back window to see Maso following in his car. No doubt Enrico won’t be far behind.

“Power freak,” I whisper to myself.

He could see Franco was drunk and yet he hit him anyway.

Not once but, like, six times.

Fucking asshole.

I’m so mad with him that I can’t even stand it. Who does he think he is?

His over-the-top reaction was just uncalled for.