Standing right behind her, Fairfax froze as her words hit him.
*This damn woman!*
The moment he finally sees her, she's standing there calmly explaining that his death meant absolutely nothing to her?
He thought back to the daily reports Romy had sent over the past month. Not once had Starla lost her appetite over his demise. Looking back, he didn't know whether he should be relieved she was okay or furious that she didn't care.
But he had spent the last thirty days losing his mind over her!
Starla picked up the bottle of premium whiskey she had brought. It was the expensive vintage she used to buy for him when they were married.
"Don't you know you shouldn't mess with a dead man's stash?" a deep, familiar voice drawled. "The ghosts down below might not get their cut."
Starla's scalp prickled. Her entire body locked up, instantly turning rigid.
Her eyes flicked involuntarily to the photograph of Fairfax on the headstone. The man in the picture was smiling.
Right now, it was the most terrifying thing she had ever seen.
For a split second, Starla legitimately thought she was being haunted.
The heavy glass bottle slipped from her numb fingers, hitting the ground with a loud *crash* and shattering into a hundred pieces.
Before she could even turn, Fairfax grabbed her from behind, pulling her flush against his chest.
Starla's already tense body went completely numb the second his arms wrapped around her. She wasn't the type to scream in panic, but feeling the solid, radiating heat of a man's body instantly shattered the illusion of a ghost.
It wasn't a spirit. It was... Fairfax.
The familiar scent of his cologne. The familiar warmth of his skin. The familiar, arrogant audacity.
"You talk so heartlessly," Fairfax murmured, his breath brushing her ear, "yet you bring me all my favorite things. What? Worried I wouldn't have the good stuff down in hell?"
He felt so vividly, overwhelmingly alive.
Suffocating under the shock, Starla twisted her head to look at him, but before she could, his mouth crashed down against the side of her neck. The heat of his lips burned against her skin.
Already trembling, Starla felt her blood turn to ice at the contact.

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