The Italian Read online T.L. Swan

Categories Genre: Angst, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
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“Enrico, this is my friend from the gym, Jennifer, and this is her boyfriend Diego,” I introduce them.

“Hello.” He shakes their hands and gives me the sideways look. I can read his mind as clear as day. He doesn’t want to talk to these people.

“Nice to meet you.” Diego smiles. “Can I get you a drink?”

“No, thank you,” he replies politely.

I widen my eyes at him. Don’t be rude.

He fakes a smile, and then his eyes go back to Diego. “Okay, just one.” He calls Giorgio over, and I can feel his discomfort at being made to talk to strangers. I smile to myself, knowing he waved Giorgio over so that it will save him having to talk.

Giorgio is in all his glory when the center of attention. He loves to talk. I think he could do it underwater.

They make idle chitchat. Enrico puts his arm around me while I talk to Jennifer and Natalie.

Look at us, being all normal and shit.

Enrico chucks his chin toward the door asking if we can go, and I give him a subtle shake of my head before I carry on talking to the girls.

“Let’s go and sit down,” Giorgio says with on over exaggerated eye roll. “My feet are killing me.”

Enrico exhales and I inwardly smile. He really hates this socializing business. It’s kind of fun watching him squirm.

“Yes, okay,” Diego replies. “I could do with a seat, too.”

They walk back over to the table and Enrico puts his arm around me.

“We are leaving in half an hour,” he whispers in my ear.

“Yes, dear,” I tease as he kisses my temple.

He ambles over to the table with the boys. I watch him sit down, and I smile as he joins the conversation. Giorgio is talking and I don’t think anyone can get a word in.

I don’t want to go home yet. He can talk to my friends for once. It won’t kill him to be friendly to someone outside of Ferrara. In fact, it might do him some good. He needs to realize that there are plenty of nice people in the world if he just gave them a chance.

We talk for another ten minutes, and then I feel an arm slip around my waist from behind. I lean back against him. I knew it wouldn’t be long until he came back. “Hello, Olly,” a strange voice purrs.

I spin around and the blood drains from my face.

Franco.

My Tinder date from hell.

“You look happy to see me,” he slurs as he reaches for me again. He’s visibly drunk, and he stumbles to the side, off balance.

Natalie must see the sheer terror on my face. “Go away, please,” she says.

Jennifer winces at the smell of his breath when he laughs out loud.

He puts his hand around my waist and slams my body up against his.

I push him away. “Stop it.”

I step back and out of his reach but he leans for me again.

I feel him before I see him. A large arm reaches past me and grabs Franco around the throat. “We meet again,” Enrico’s deep voice growls.

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 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.


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