I whirl around and curse under my breath when her warmth disappears. Fuck. Disgusted with my own skin, I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my middle. It doesn’t matter that I changed rooms. She’s everywhere. Her soul clings to every corner and every fucking person in this house. But maybe that’s not a bad thing. If her ghost fucking haunts me and blames me for her death, I’ll still welcome it. At least she’ll be here. I put on another suit and head to my office. The door opens as I snag a bottle of Macallan from the minibar. I don’t bother with a glass and drink straight from the
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