A paralyzed billionaire secretly wiggled his toes, only to discover fourteen months of physical therapy had been sabotaged by someone in the bedroom across the hall.

Before Maxwell could speak, a sharp, distinct sound cut through the silence of the estate.

Creak.

It came from the outer gallery—the unmistakable groan of the heavy oak floorboards beneath the oriental runner outside his bedroom door.

Martha froze, her breath catching in her throat. She instinctively took two quick, soundless steps closer to the tub, her hands clutching the front of her uniform as her eyes darted toward the frosted-glass doors of the bathroom.

Step.

The footsteps were measured, unhurried, and familiar. They moved across the master bedroom floor with the casual confidence of someone who owned the space, someone who never expected to be challenged.

Maxwell did not move. He sat shirtless in the tub, the cold water lapping against his ribs, his dark eyes fixed on the frosted glass. His tattooed chest rose and fell in deep, silent rhythms. His hands remained resting on the marble rim, but his fingers were no longer trembling; they were coiled like steel springs.

The footsteps stopped directly outside the bathroom door.

Through the narrow, quarter-inch gap beneath the bottom of the frosted glass, a long, dark shadow fell across the polished white marble threshold.

Two leather-soled shoes—expensive, custom Italian loafers—came to a halt on the other side of the door.

Martha stood paralyzed, her heart pounding so violently she felt sick. Her eyes flicked from the shadow on the floor to the thick stack of cancelled invoices resting openly on the vanity counter, their blue St. Jude crest catching the morning light.

A second of absolute, suffocating silence descended upon the room.

Then, with a faint, oiled click, the heavy polished brass handle of the bathroom door began to rotate downward.

Slowly. Deliberately.

Maxwell did not look away from the turning brass. His gaze dropped for a fraction of a second to his submerged right leg, where his foot rested against the bottom of the tub, coiled and ready to bear weight for the first time in over four hundred days.

He looked back at the door.