“Max?” I moan his name. “Just a few days, baby. I promise. I can’t live without you any longer than that.” “Don’t leave me here alone, Max,” I plead, feeling lonelier than I have since my brothers shipped me off to Italy four years ago. “You’re not alone, baby girl. You’re fucking mine.” I swallow my emotions, determined not to cry. “Whose are you?” he asks, and the deep timbre of his voice makes goosebumps prickle along my forearms. “Yours,” I whisper with a smile. “Every fucking part of you. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?” “Okay. Can I call you later?” “Call me before you go to sleep.” “I
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