Page 111 of Royal Deception
I hold his gaze. “I know he is.”
That earns a round of laughter.
“Idiots,” I mutter under my breath.
They think I’m weak. They think Rory won’t burn this entire place to the ground for me. They have no idea what’s coming.
And that’s their first mistake.
The enforcers mutter to each other in Russian, their voices lowering as they move further away, probably thinking I’m too scared or too stupid to do anything while they’re distracted.
They’ll get what’s coming to them.
I shift my wrists, feeling the rough bite of the rope against my skin. They tied me up well, but not well enough. My fingers are already working at the knots, twisting and tugging, testing the give.
Rory is coming for me. I know that much for sure. He may not love me—hell, half the time, I don’t even know what he feels for me—but I do know one thing.
He doesn’t share.
And he sure as hell doesn’t let other men put their hands on what belongs to him.
A small, fierce smile tugs at my lips despite the situation. If these Russian bastards think they’ve won, they’re about to learn just how wrong they are.
But even with that certainty, a sliver of unease slithers through me. Because Rory isn’t here yet. And I have no idea what these men might do before he gets here.
I glance toward the doorway, listening to their low conversation. They aren’t paying attention to me now, but that won’t last.
I need to get out of here before they decide what to do with me. Before they decide to hurt me. Before they decide to hurt my baby.
A fresh wave of determination surges through me.
I tug harder at the ropes, twisting my hands until my fingers start to go numb. No matter what it takes, I’m getting out of here.
I’m not waiting to be saved.
I’m still working at the ropes, the sweat beading on my forehead now, when I hear it.
A sharp crash, followed by the unmistakable sound of shouting.
"Go, go, go!"
My heart races. My breath hitches. Panic floods my veins as the sounds of chaos spill into the room. Fists hitting flesh. Gunshots echoing from somewhere distant. The thud of boots against concrete.
I strain my ears, trying to make sense of it. But all I hear is noise.
I freeze, my body tensing.
More footsteps. They sound heavy, deliberate. They’re coming closer.
A man enters the room, his face hidden beneath a balaclava, eyes dark and cold. Two more follow. Their footsteps are heavy, their movements sharp. And when they make their way toward me, I feel it in my bones. They aren’t here to help.
I’m outnumbered. And I’m tied up.
Every instinct I have tells me to fight. To scream. To do whatever it takes to survive. I yank harder at the ropes, my muscles burning, but they’re still too tight.
I twist in my bindings, every nerve on edge, ready to fight for my life. I know these men, this moment, can go one of two ways. It could be my last.
Then, one of them reaches for me. I flinch.
