Page 22 of Made in Love and Blood

“Sure, I’ll be—”

“Now.”

Nico moved to stand. “Should I go or not?”

“Sit.”

He did. Stop, drop, and roll, after all.

Less than two minutes later, a knock echoed on the office doors. The maid, or whatever she was, given her comfortable, casual clothing, didn’t wait to be called in before she opened the door. As if she had done this very thing many times before and knew it wouldn’t be a problem.

Her dark eyes scanned the room, picking up on Nico quickly, and then moving onto Salvatore where she didn’t look away. “Yes?”

“When did Francesca get home yesterday?”

“Right after her game.”

“Who brought her home?”

“The boyfriend.”

Nico made a face that no one else noticed. A boyfriend? He bet that asshole played football and looked like a good face to punch.

“And then what did she do?” Salvatore questioned, steely eyes never wavering from their target.

“Had a snack while we chatted a bit.”

“About?”

“Is there a problem?”

Salvatore’s lips pursed, his expression fading into a blank canvas. “I don’t know, Sissy. Is there one? Is there something I should know?”

Nico glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the woman wring her hands together. “She’s been running again...she usually does when you’re gone. But you know that, you know she—”

“I know she’s ten pounds underweight, practices a minimum of four days a week, three hours a shot, and doesn’t have any fucking reason to be running herself sick. Just like you know it, too! We’ve been over this, Sissy. She needs to find better ways to cope.”

“And she does. When you’re home.”

A fist slammed against the desk. “Fuck!”

That was Nico’s cue. He stood up, scratching at the side of his cheek out of awkwardness. “I’m gonna go back to the guesthouse now, if that’s all right?”

Sal barely passed him a look. “I’ll call for Larkin. You stay in the hallway. I want one month where you do exactly as I say, and we’ll see about getting a start on what you want. Got it?”

Nico nodded fast. “Yeah, I got it.”

Then, his attention turned on Sissy again. “And you—you get my daughter up, right now.”

“But Sal—”

“Now.”

Even he moved his ass to get out of that office. Nico heard a lot of men use a certain type of voice to be heard and command attention. His own father had a special tone he reserved for Nico as well, but even that, fists and all, didn’t put the fear of God into him the way Salvatore just did.

Now he felt bad.

Except what Frankie did, it wasn’t good. Clearly, those around her understood as much, too. If she cared to hear it, then he would apologize for his part another time.