er her voice, the front do
door swung open, an
d into the foyer, the faint, sour smell of expensive scotch wafted
loor, his mother looking horrified, and Frankie st
rushed to her son and grabbed his arm. "Thank god you're here! Your wife has lost her
the maids. He didn't
s eyes were heavy with a prof
his temples, his signature g
ith fatigue. "Can you not just be normal for one day?
he man she had once
sn't pain. It was the feeling of a fire finally
s box, Domenic?" Frankie asked.
is. You don't bring things like that into the living room
th, the smell of scotch
ward the door. "Go check into a hotel and cool off. Do no
other socialites exchange
the smooth ebony wood r
ward. It formed a smile so cold and mocking
ish," Fra
e didn't cry. She d
was flawless, her steps even and unh
anic pierced through his alcohol-hazed brain. This w
t, his voice losing som
her stride. She didn'
door, stepped through the frame
a
hoed through the silent penthouse, se
g urge to break something. He reached out and violently swept a delicate,
stepped into the
heavy box to one arm. With her free hand, she reached into her
r. It was answered
rankie commanded, her voice crisp and
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