He looms over her, his eyes roving across her body. His fingers brush across her chest but she shoves them away with her bound hands.

‘Don’t touch me!’

‘You need to get dressed now.’

Archer frowns. Is he going to let her go? Is this just some sick joke?

‘Just one more thing,’ he says, before turning and leaving the basement.

Archer scans frantically for something to release her bonds but finds nothing.

Jamie returns moments later with a black dress. He hangs it up.

‘Remove your underwear and put this on please, Grace.’

He takes out a double-edged knife from the pocket of his suit.

She freezes.

Holding firmly onto her hands, he cuts the bonds of her feet. ‘Please don’t try anything. This knife is razor sharp, as Merrick just discovered.’ He chuckles and cuts the bonds around her wrists. She rubs away the numbness. It’s good to feel the blood flowing again. Despite the knife, Archer feels a jolt of confidence. A possibility.

‘Why the dramatics last night? Why risk your own life?’

‘I was never going to die. I knew that. One of you would have freed me. I should also say the vitrine was rigged to collapse anyway. However, I was in a difficult situation with Merrick. I had offered him the boy as payment, yet that wasn’t enough. He wanted more. I anticipated him leaking something to the police, so I needed to redirect that scent. I knew you would come to me eventually.’

With the knife hovering close he watches her undress. His eyes flare. He is aroused.

Archer feels sick as she puts on the dress. It’s a slim fit and highlights almost every contour and curve of her body.

The knife jabs at her ribs and he caresses her breasts and runs his hand down to her pubis.

She is repelled by his touch, which fills her with dread, and uses her anger to hold herself still.

His fingers caress her throat and then he tosses the knife behind him and with two hands squeezes her neck. Her hands reach for his and she tries to prise them off.

He lifts her off the floor, his red eyes boring into hers.

‘How beautiful in death you will be.’

She reaches across and tries to scratch his face but his arms are long and strong. She feels herself weakening, her head spinning. She can’t let it end this way.

No.

Please.

Not like this.

The room darkens momentarily and the walls seem to close in. Despair washes over her but deep down she feels her anger burning. A swelling rage rises inside her. With all her strength she swings a kick at his balls. His grip weakens by a small measure but it’s enough for her to wrench herself free and gasp for air.