The last knot slipped free beneath Madeline’s trembling fingers. Richard’s wrists sagged into his lap, the angry rope burns raw against bruised skin.
“Can you stand?” she asked, her voice low but urgent.
He groaned, leaning heavily into her as she tried to help him up. “Don’t… think so.”
The pounding outside the door was her only warning. The chair under the handle rattled violently.
Madeline’s stomach dropped. “Oh, hell—”
The door exploded inward with a single, bone-jarring kick, splintering wood and sending the chair skidding across the floor. Nadya strode in, coat flaring like the shadow of a blade, a pistol steady in her grip. Behind her, two more goons filled the doorway, grinning like they’d been promised a bonus.
“Little heiress,” Nadya purred, her accent wrapping around the w
