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‘It’s you, isn’t it? You’re the one who’s stirred all this up! Well, damn you! Do you hear me? Damn you to hell!’
He was speaking Italian now, and anger was boiling from him. He saw Rafaello getting to his feet, holding up a hand, his other hand still pressing down on Connie’s shoulder.
‘Dante—cool it.’
His words were perfectly calm—which enraged Dante all the more.
He started forward. He wanted to knock Raf’s hand off Connie’s shoulder, and then he wanted to knock him out cold.
A cry stopped him in his tracks. Connie had jolted to her feet, dislodging Rafaello’s hand with the movement.
Dante’s rage turned. Turned on her.
‘Just what thehellis all this about?’
He’d gone into English now, but his anger was just as searing in that language as in his own.
‘You walk out on me without a word—without a single damn word you just walk out and disappear, high-tail it back to the UK on some totally spurious pretext—and next thing I get petitioned fordivorce? What thehell?’
Rafaello spoke again. In English. ‘Why the surprise, Dante? You were always going to get divorced, weren’t you? Connie’s just accelerated the procedure, that’s all.’
His voice was still cool and calm. And it still enraged Dante.
‘Shut your damn mouth, Raf! This is your doing! You’ve put Connie up to this! Though God knows why—or how!’
His eyes flashed back to Connie. With the small part of his brain that wasn’t in total meltdown he saw that she was as white as a sheet.
He opened his mouth to speak, his anger even blacker. Because of course it was anger—what else could this all-consuming, overpowering emotion be?
But her pale, drawn face was twisting, her hand was flying to her mouth, stifling another cry torn from her, and then she was stumbling past him, pulling open the door, hurtling from the room.
Running from him.
She was gasping, no air in her lungs, as she pounded down the stairs. Only one thought possessed her. To get away...
The shock of Dante’s arrival—the horror of his rage at her... She couldn’t bear it. She couldn’t bear it a moment longer, not for a second...
Her coat was hanging on a hook in the lobby and she grabbed at it, pushing her arms into the sleeves, fumbling with her handbag as she did so, yanking open the front door.
Behind her she could hear voices full of consternation, footsteps running down the stairs behind her. She could hear her name being called—urgent, angry. In a flurry of desperation she started blindly down the short flight of stone steps leading to the pavement, still trying to thrust her right hand into her coat sleeve.
She felt her heel catch on the lowest step, tried to grab the railing. But her hand was not free. She felt herself being impelled forward, knowing in a moment of utter panic that she was falling...could not stop herself. Could not stop the pavement slamming up towards her, the lamppost smashing into her head as she fell, with a sickening thud, on the rock-hard, merciless paving stones.
‘Connie!’
Dante’s voice was hoarse with horror and he was there in an instant, crouched down beside her. He cried her name again, but she did not move.
In terror, he lifted his shaking hand to her throat. His eyes closed in abject relief and he breathed again. There was a pulse.
But blood was seeping through her hair, trickling onto her forehead.
‘Get an ambulance!’ he demanded.
Then Raf was there, crouched down too, his phone in his hand, jabbing out the emergency number, demanding an ambulance immediately.
Dante grabbed the phone from him.‘Now!’he yelled into it.
And then he was trying to lift Connie, attempting to get his arm under her shoulder.
