Page 159 of Made in Love and Blood

Her gaze narrowed.

He just smiled back.

“What, like you don’t already know?” she asked, forgetting about the mention of a gift altogether. An entire month without Nico took hold of her thoughts all over again and wouldn’t let go. The idea killed her.

“I don’t know, actually,” Salvatore informed, but he didn’t look bothered about the fact. “If his...boss...determines he’s to go and do what he needs to do, and I don’t need to be informed, that’s their prerogative. Besides, it’s probably work-related, knowing what I do, which I can’t complain about. He’s making himself money and doing something productive with his time.”

His lips curved into a sarcastic smile. “You, on the other hand, still haven’t found something for yourself to do besides spend your days looking out the windows of your penthouse. One of those things is not like the other, Frankie.”

She blinked, and straightened in her chair instantly, ready to fight all over again.

“Excuse you?”

He pointed his fork at her, swallowing another bite of food. “Prove me differently.”

“Even if I wasn’t doing something, which I have been,” she informed venomously, “I have eight hundred million dollars that make sure I’m well-kept, Daddy. Don’t forget.”

“How boring. And a waste of talent and time which you won’t get back. But that’s your business, given you’re a whole adult who doesn’t feel like she has to—”

“What, get permission or clear things with you? Is that what you’re going to say?”

Calm as cat enjoying milk, he didn’t react a bit. “Actually, I would have said since you think you’re an adult who doesn’t have to consider how her choices impact others or their lives, but go ahead, speak for me. We both know how much I love it when people do.”

Frankie seriously considered leaving. Just up and going.

The way Salvatore waited for her to share anything with him at all stopped her. His words were sharp and biting like hers, sure, but he wanted to know. She could tell. Two weeks without a conversation between them had taken a toll on both.

“So, what are you doing?” he asked after a quiet moment.

Frankie sighed, eyeing her fingernails instead of him. “Well, for starters, I spent the last two weeks furnishing the penthouse and decorating it. All of which, I did by myself, thank you very much. Nico worked out some logistics for me, but I did the rest.”

“What logistics?”

“The hard stuff.”

He chuckled. “So, moving heavy things, putting stuff together.”

“I’m not good with the driver things. Okay? I tried.”

Salvatore’s eyebrow arched again. “A screwdriver?”

“Whatever.”

He outright laughed at that.

“You should come see it,” she said, “it’s really mine now.”

“Any day, any time. Just say the word.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

“What else have you been up to?”

“I have an appointment to begin managing my trust. Next Friday. I thought it would be a good idea to put a third into income creating sources, another third into upkeep of the property assets and interest earning on what’s there, and the last third I’m gonna keep open.”

“To do what?”

“Whatever I want,” Frankie replied honestly. “It’s my money. Unless you have another suggestion.”