Page 26 of Corrupted By the Capo

“I mean, you’re obviously a maniac. That definitely goes without saying. But the balloon animal exhibit was kind of fire,” I said.

He smiled, but didn’t look smug.

“I’m not surprised that you doubted me, but maybe you won’t make that mistake again,” he said.

“Well,” I responded, getting close to him.

“You lovebirds get lost again?” Fabiano said.

I’d only heard him speak once, but his voice was far too familiar. As he spoke, I watched Enzo. It was like a disappearing act. One minute, Enzo—the goofy, intelligent, fun guy who could make something like a balloon animal exhibit fun—was there, and then, in a blink, he was gone.

Replaced with Enzo Moretti, who was absolutely nobody to play with.

I saw that. But looking at Fabiano and the smug little smile on his face, he didn’t.

“Fabiano, me and my fiancée are having a nice evening. Please fuck off,” he said.

“Enzo, if you think I’m going to take it easy on you just because you’re with your bitch?—”

Fabiano’s words were lost, drowned by the sickening thud of Enzo’s fist slamming into his face.

His reaction was instant.

Brutal.

I had never seen him move that quickly. Wasn’t sure I’d ever seenanyonemove that quickly.

But he hit Fabiano with a speed and force that left me terrified.

“Stop!” I yelled.

He didn’t seem to hear me, so I yelled again.

“Enzo! Stop!”

If I were braver—or stupider—I might have tried to physically interject. But Gram didn’t raise a dummy, and I was not about to try to stop two grown men from fighting.

Or rather, stop Enzo from beating the fuck out of another grown man.

“Enzo!” I said, putting as much sternness into my voice as I could.

Maybe that got to him. Or maybe it was Fabiano’s pathetic whimper.

Whatever it was, Enzo finally stopped.

“When they take the wire out of your jaw so you can talk again, think first, you?—”

Enzo glared at Fabiano and then grabbed my hand.

His fingers were warm, starting to swell.

“Are you all right?” I asked as we got away.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he said, his voice casual, light, but he wasn’t his usual self.

“Enzo,” I said.

“What, Molly?” he responded, his voice edged.

---