Francesca shot Alfredo. Twice.
She missed the first time and the second brushed his arm. Downstairs was an upheaval. Annalise and Luciana had hurried downstairs at the commotion, her lies about being unable to walk temporarily forgotten.
Francesca was by the corner, Luca's arms wrapped around her as she trembled terribly, the realization of what she'd done dawning on her. Luca held her protectively, whispering to her while kissing the top of her head softly and caressing her bare arms, all to the view of her husband.
Annalise immediately recognized him as the man in a black tuxedo standing by the corner nursing a drink with a neutral expression on his face, his eyes fixated on Luca and Francesca.
Annalise's first thought was how the Carusos never seemed to have a shortage of drama to keep them going.
"Alfredo!" Luciana screeched hurrying up to where he stood, clutching his wounded arm and swearing in Italian.
