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... ing my fingers through her soft copper hair. It felt like silk against my skin, and I could sense her melting into my touch.

She tilted her head slightly, looking up at me with a daring smile. "Babe…" she whispered, her voice low, like she was testing the waters. "What are you hiding from me? You can forge identities, fake someone’s death? Are you... part of a mafia?

A mob?"

The way she said it, with that edge—I could tell she wasn’t worried. She was hooked. Hooked on the ...

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