Rose pov
My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might bust right through my chest. The ropes around my wrists were tight, cutting into me like they were alive, hungry for my skin. Every time I yanked at them, they bit deeper, and I could feel the warm trickle of blood dripping down my hands. The yacht swayed under me, nice and easy, like it was mocking the mess I was in. The air smelled sharp—salty from the sea, mixed with that heavy, smoky sting of gunpowder. It made my nose burn.
Margaret was standing a couple feet away, and man, she was pissed. I’d never seen her like this. Usually, she’s all cool and collected, like nothing could touch her. But now? Her whole body was stiff, shaking with anger. Her face was twisted up, eyes wild, staring at Angelo like she wanted to rip his head
