Angelina grabbed the pan and hurled it at Enrique, Her blood was boiling. “You shit,” she yelled, “You ass! She’s my sister!”
He ducked. The neatly dodged pan hit the wall before clattering to the floor. “Sorry, mio caro, but she looks like you. I was thinking of you.”
He glanced at the mess, “Il mio Tesoro, was that my frittata?”
Angelina picked up a knife.