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