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How do I say goodbye?
I can’t remember our last conversation. What did we say? Did I tell him I love him?
“Cami,” Max says as he takes my hand.
My eyes lift to his face, and it feels like I’m in a trance as I mumble, “Yes.”
“We’ve landed.” He takes hold of my chin and turns my face toward him. “I think we should stop at the hospital so you can get something for the shock.”
I hate hospitals, but knowing I can’t do this on my own, I nod.
“Come, baby.”
Since Papa was assassinated earlier today, Max’s tone has been gentle, and it keeps making me cry.
“Don’t talk to me like that,” I say. “Your tone is always commanding. The gentleness is making it worse for me.” I lift my eyes to his. “I have no strength, Max. I need you.”
A domineering expression takes hold of his features, then he says, “Take all the strength you need from me.”
His hand grips mine like a vice as we step off the plane. A blacked-out SUV waits for us, and there’s a motorcade with a group of guards.
“They’re from St. Monarch’s,” Max informs me.
We approach a man who looks like he’s in charge of the motorcade. He nods at me, then says, “I’m sorry for your loss, Miss DuBois.” His eyes flick to Max. “My name is Danil. What are our orders, Mr. Levin?”
He’s Russian.
“We’re heading to the hospital before going to Mr. Dubois' house.”
There’s so much I have to do. Funeral arrangements. My father’s last will.
Philippe! Does our chef even know my father’s been killed?
I’m sure he does.
Max opens the backdoor and nudges me forward. When I climb inside, he takes the seat next to me while Danil slides in behind the steering wheel.
As we’re driven to the hospital, I lean against Max. I try to focus on the comfort I find from having him with me rather than the devastating loss I suffered today.
God, I don’t know what I’d do if he weren’t here.
A random thought knocks the air from my lungs – if the threat against my life is gone, Max can leave me at any time.
NoNoNoNoNo.
Max must feel my panic because he takes hold of my jaw and lifts my face to his.
Because I’m beaten and weak, I beg, “Don’t leave me.”
A frown forms on his forehead, but he says what I need to hear, “I’m not going anywhere, baby.”
Stay with me forever.
This time I can’t say the words, and instead, I bury my face against his chest. I breathe in his masculine scent and focus on the feel of his arms around me.
I’m not sure I’ll recover from losing my father. I can’t lose Max as well.
He’s all I have now.
