Page 132 of Made for Wilde

I kick the door open.

Chaos explodes.

Charlotte is duct-taped to a chair, her eyes wide with terror. Adrian stands over her with his arm locked straight and a gun pointed at her head. His face is wild, hair sticking up, eyes bulging with something I recognize instantly.

Desperation. The kind that turns a man into something less than human.

“Don’t move!” Adrian screams, his voice cracking.

I freeze with my gun trained on his chest. My mind calculates every angle, every risk. If he twitches, she’s dead. If I hesitate, she’s dead.

And our baby. Fuck, our baby.

My voice comes out low and steady.

“Let her go, Adrian. You don’t want to do this.”

He laughs, a high, broken sound.

“You think you can tell me what to do? You think you’re better than me?”

Charlotte’s eyes lock on mine. She’s shaking, but she’s alive.

I focus on that. I focus on her.

“Put the gun down,” I say as calmly as I can manage. “You can walk away from this.”

Adrian’s hand shakes and the barrel wavers, inches from Charlotte’s temple.

“She was supposed to be mine. I would’ve given her everything. But you—you took her from me.”

I take a slow step forward and never lower my weapon.

“She was never yours, Adrian. You know that. Let her go.”

He bares his teeth, desperate and feral.

“You’re not even supposed to be here. You’re old, washed up. She’s too good for you. She should be with me. I’m the one who notices her. I’m the one who cares.”

I can’t breathe.

The guilt, the fear, the certainty that if I’d paid more attention, this never would’ve happened—every broken promise, every missed warning crashes down on me.

But I push it aside. I have to. For her.

“You want to prove you care?” I grind out. “Don’t fucking hurt her. Let her go. Take me if you want. I’m the one you’re pissed at, right?”

Adrian’s eyes dart between me and Charlotte.

His finger tightens on the trigger.

My heart stops.

“Don’t,” I say, my voice barely above a growl. “Don’t touch her.”

Charlotte sobs and the sound tears through me.

I want to kill him. I want to rip him apart. But I can’t risk it. Not with the gun that close.