Obsession was a five-letter word. Ten years in the making. And her name was Emily.
But the real question was who was I?
When my pretty little pet leaned forward, offered me a view of her cleavage, and tried to make a deal, I said why the hell not?
Five days. Thirty minutes. She could ask me anything to her heart’s content. Anything but my name. She had to figure that one out on her own.
It should have been easy enough. I was the man she stole from, whose life she ruined, whose future she destroyed.
I was the man she left behind and she was… mine.
