chapter two

THE DARKEST CELL

Prison doesn’t break you all at once.

It shatters you slowly—piece by piece—until you’re not sure who you were before the walls closed in. Yes, that it what prison does to a man's soul.

I stopped counting the days after the first hundred.

Time doesn’t matter in here. It bleeds together, a never-ending cycle of locked doors, tasteless food, and the hollow echo of voices that aren’t mine.

But the cold? The cold is real. It wraps around my ribs, settles into my bones, and refuses to let go.

And at night, when everything is quiet, the memories come.

Killian’s voice. His hands on my skin. His lips whispering promises he never meant to keep.

The way he looked at me in court, like I was nothing.

The moment the judge sealed my fate, and I turned to find no one who would fight for me.

I clench my jaw and force the thoughts away. I will not break. Not yet.

Because I have bigger problems.

A sharp kick against my ribs reminds me that I’m not alone. Seven months. Seven months of carrying a child that is both my greatest weakness and my only reason to keep breathing. The prisoners know.

The guards know. And in here, that means I am prey.

The cafeteria is filled with the usual noise—metal trays clattering, murmured voices, the occasional burst of laughter that never reaches anyone’s eyes. I move carefully, balancing my tray with steady hands.

I looked behind me and I saw someone standing right at my back.

"Look at you. Still acting like some rich princess,"

I don’t need to look up to know who it is.

Helena Jeoy.

The self-proclaimed ruler of cell block D. A woman with more scars than most men and a reputation for breaking anyone who doesn’t fall in line.

She was vicious!

I exhale slowly. "I’m not looking for trouble, Helena."

She smirks and leans in close. "That’s the problem. Trouble is looking for you."

Before I can react, she slaps my tray out of my hands. Food splatters across my jumpsuit, warm and sticky against my skin.

Laughter ripples through the cafeteria.

I stand still. I learned the rules of survival early: Don’t fight back unless you’re sure you’ll win. And against Helena? I won’t win.

"Pathetic," she scoffs. "Killian really did a number on you, huh?"

The words are a blade to my ribs, but I don’t let them cut. Helena wants a reaction. She won’t get one.

A guard’s voice barks from across the room. "Break it up!"

Helena chuckles, stepping back. "See you around, princess."

I swallow down the anger burning in my throat and bend to pick up my tray.

Not today.

But someday.

Someday, they will all pay.

Later that day, the guards come for me.

"Visitation," one of them mutters, not bothering to look me in the eye.

My heart pounds. I haven’t had a visitor in months. A flicker of hope rises despite myself. But I wasn't counting much on it. I knew by now that I was all alone but yet, I wanted to believe I wasn't forgotten.

Killian?

Had he finally realized? Had he come for me?

But when I step into the visitation room, the flicker dies.

Not Killian.

Isadora Blackwood sits behind the scratched plexiglass, her expression carefully composed.

I force my hands to stay still. "What do you want?"

She tilts her head, studying me like I’m a piece of art she’s already decided she doesn’t like. "Straight to the point. I always admired that about you."

I don’t respond. I know Isadora well enough to understand that silence unsettles her more than words ever could.

She sighs, as if disappointed. "I thought you should hear it from me. Killian is getting married."

The world tilts around its axis and my face goes pale.

I curl my fingers into my palms.

"What?"

"To Selena Clark. The wedding is in a month."

I can’t breathe.

Isadora smiles, slow and deliberate. "You didn’t really think he’d wait for you, did you? My son is a practical man. He’s moved on. I suggest you do the same."

The pain is sharp, but I refuse to let her see it. "And you came all this way just to rub it in?"

"Not entirely." She leans forward, her voice smooth as silk. "You’re an inconvenience, Auora. A loose end."

Her eyes fell on my bulging stomach and she smirked, "That baby you’re carrying? A stain on my family’s reputation."

My stomach twists.

I slowly grabbed my belly as if her eyes could poke the child out of me.

"I’ll make this simple," she continues. "Sign the paperwork. Terminate the pregnancy. And in return, I’ll make sure you get an early release." She said again.

My eyes locked on another paper. Another contract that would either see me stay behind bars for the rest of my life or a contract that could suffocate me, my presence on the outside world.

I stare at her, nausea rising. "You want me to—"

"End it." Her gaze is sharp as glass. "Before it becomes a problem."

A slow, terrible fury builds in my chest.

I meet her eyes and smile.

"No."

For the first time, something flickers across her face—something like surprise.

"Think carefully, Aurora," she warns. "That child will ruin any chance you have of starting over."

I press a hand to my belly. "I’d rather rot in here than give you what you want."

She exhales, as if she expected this answer all along. "Suit yourself."

She stands, smoothing invisible wrinkles from her designer coat. "But let me be clear—if that child is ever born, they will never know the name Blackwood. And you will never see them free."

I watch her walk away, my heart pounding.

For months, I have waited. Hoped. Begged the universe for a miracle.

No more.

I will not beg.

I will not break.

I will get out of here. One way or another.

And when I do?

The Blackwood empire will burn.

Two weeks later, the pain starts.

Sharp. Sudden. Unbearable.

I double over on my cot, gasping for breath. "Help," I choke out, but no one listens.

Minutes blur. Hours.

By the time they drag me to the infirmary, my vision is hazy. The world is slipping away, but I fight to stay.

Not for me.

For the life inside me.

Someone shouts orders. Lights burn overhead.

Then the pain becomes too much.

Darkness swallows me whole.

And as I fade, only one thought remains.

How do I save the precious life inside of me?