Ch. 246..250: Breed Me, Daddy Alpha chapter 246-250

Breed Me. Daddy Alpha – Chapter 246

He nodded, checking something off from his list again before his gaze lifted back to me.

His sharp, assessing eyes locked onto my face. More specifically, onto my eye.

I knew what he was staring at before he even said anything. The faint, yellowing bruise around my left eye – a reminder of what I had left behind…

I tensed instinctively, waiting for the question to come…

The doctor narrowed his eyes. “How did you get that?” He pointed with his pen towards my face, as I swallowed.

Cara stiffened beside me. I felt her shift, ready to jump in and spin some kind of lie, but I beat her to it.

“It’s nothing,” I said quickly. “Just an accident, that’s all.”

The doctor didn’t look convinced. “Be specific. We don’t need any trouble causers on this experiment!” I clenched my jaw.

“We don’t want any trouble. I only tripped,” I said bluntly. “Fell against the edge of a table and it caught the wrong spot.”

His eyes lingered on me for a long moment, like he was weighing the truth in my words. Then, without comment, he reached for a drawer in the nearby cabinet and pulled out a small, round compact case. He tossed it onto the table in front of me.

“You’ll need to cover it,” he said simply.

I blinked, astounded. “What?”

“The bruise,” he clarified, tapping his pen against the clipboard. “We can’t have you walking around looking like you just stepped out of a street fight. It might create… unnecessary assumptions with the inmates.”

I hesitated, staring down at the compact case.

It was some sort of peachy concealer or foundation.

Cara let out a scoff, repeating what he wanted. “So you’re forcing her to cover it up with makeup?”

The doctor arched a brow. “You’re required to present yourself professionally. It’s non–negotiable,”

–

I felt the weight of his words settle in my stomach like a stone. This wasn’t about me or my past it was about our presentation.

About making sure I, and everyone else involved, looked presentable for the prisoners.

I swallowed down the bitterness rising in my throat and snatched up the compact case.

“Fine,” I muttered.

I popped it open, revealing the small mirror and creamy powder inside. The shade was close enough to my skin tone, probably something generic they had on hand for situations like this. I dabbed the sponge into the product and swiped it over my bruised skin- cringing as it was still overly tender.

It almost felt like erasing a piece of myself…

Like covering up proof of something I wasn’t allowed to speak about…

When I was done, the bruise was masked completely. I looked somewhat alive and normal again.

The doctor nodded approvingly. “Yes, much better.”

Cara muttered something under her breath that I didn’t quite catch, but I could feel her anger radiating beside me.

The doctor turned to the cabinet again, retrieving a small stack of folded garments.

“Now,” he said, placing them in front of us. “You’ll need to choose a uniform.”

Cara and I exchanged a confused glance.

“Uniform?” Cara repeated. “What kind of uniform?”

The doctor didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he motioned to the garments as though it were obvious.

There were several packaged colours – grey, blue, green, red, purple… pink.

“You may select your colour preference, one to make you feel more comfortable in the compound.” he explained in a bored tone. “Once you do, it will be registered to your file and assigned to you for the duration of your stay – providing fresh sets to change in to and so on.”

My brows furrowed. “What’s the difference between them all?”

“Nothing. The choice is purely aesthetic, to remind you that although you’ll be in with the prisoners, you aren’t one of them.” He states.

Cara sighed, “So what? Is this like picking teams at summer camp? What’s next, matching lanyards?

The doctor didn’t react to her sarcasm. “Just choose a damn colour! It doesn’t even matter that much!” He hurries us on, checking his wristwatch impatiently.

I glanced down at the options again. Something about this felt off. The idea that the colour’s were meaningless didn’t sit right with me. There had to be a reason for it. A code. A ranking system. Something.

But we didn’t have much choice.

I hesitated only a moment before reaching for the pink uniform.

Cara eyed me like I had lost my mind. “Pink?”

Sure, the bright colour was a bold choice amongst the others, but it was the only one I felt drawn to…

I gave a half–shrug. “If I’m gonna be stuck in this for a while, then I might as well wear something I don’t hate.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed the lilac purple uniform. “Fine. But if this color thing secretly means we’re assigned to some kind of weird experimental torture group, I’m coming for your ass.”

I barely cracked a smile.

The doctor noted our selections, then gestured toward the door we had first entered through. “You’ll go back through there, to go freshen up and change. Your personal clothing will be stored safely for the duration of the project.”

I wanted to scoff at that, as though we cared much for our raggy clothes. They could shred them for all we cared.

“Are we finished here?” Cara questioned the man, as he seemed to turn towards a computer system – ignoring us completely after that.

–

“Yes, the man that brought you here will sort you out now – go out of the only door you can!” He waved us away, swatting the air as though we were flys who were annoying him…

Cara rolled her eyes, and without another word, we took our uniforms and stepped back out of the room.

Whatever this experiment really was…

I’m sure we would find out soon enough…

But I now felt uncomfortably nervous for whatever awaited us both…

Breed Me. Daddy Alpha – Chapter 247

The hum of the ferry’s engines vibrated through the soles of my shoes, and the metal walls around us creaked and groaned as the ship slowly pulled away from the dock…

Fuck! There’s no getting out of this now then…

I sighed and stood over by the small circular window of our assigned cabin, having now showered and feeling extraordinarily clean for the first time in a while.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the heat of the shower belting down against my skin accompanied by the free coconut scented hair and body wash.

It felt like a vacation compared to what I was used to back at the trailer which consisted of a green garden hose that had been attached to the bathroom taps.

I waited patiently for Cara to finish up, moving across the space to look myself over once again in the mirror.

It all felt so surreal, like an out of body experience almost, as though I had allowed myself to step in to autopilot throughout this entire journey.

We had been given clear orders to change into our uniforms, freshen up, and to report to the assembly point for 6pm – a space in which the scarred man had briefly shown to us on the way to our cabin as I prayed that Cara would remember the way back…

So here I now was, as my eyes scanned over my reflection from head to toe, wearing my pink oversized (surprisingly comfy) tracksuit, with my dark hair still damp – but clean at least.

The vessel continued to bobble across the water, heading toward some unknown destination holding what I’d imagine was some of this countries worst criminals…

I swallowed hard at the thought, debating if we had both maybe gone mad? What exactly was this project?

Hopefully we find out more information at the meet up tonight…

I glanced up at the small wall clock seeing that it was now after four, as my eyes shifted towards one of the two little slim single beds in the room.

I hummed, debating if I even had time to squeeze in a quick nap before the meeting?

I was stunned that I had even managed to stay awake for so long as my body absolutely ached for a rest by this point.

–

Deciding it would be the smart choice, I approach it and sink down the mattress a little harder than what I would have liked – but I was in no position to complain.

I breathed out heavily as I lay there, stretching out my limbs as they cracked like a pensioners before eventually forcing my eyes to close.

I allowed for my mind to race with a thousand questions and possibilities on what would be next in store for us, feeling my chest even itself out in the process.

I could hear the steady rush of water from the shower – Cara’s shower. It was a constant reminder that she was still there, even if she wasn’t in sight, finishing up her own cleansing rituals and enjoying the fresh experience as much as I had.

For a few moments, I let myself drift into a nap, trying to quiet the relentless hum of the ferry’s engines and the creaks of metal that spoke of our isolation. The sound of water, soothing yet insistent, mingled with my thoughts, pulling me between a desire for rest and a mounting anxiety about what awaited us once we would be forced to leave this cabin.

Long minutes seemed to pass in a haze until I felt Cara’s gentle touch shaking my arm.

“I hate to ruin your sleep girl but it’s almost time for the meeting!” She spoke gently, as I groaned and scrunched up my arms before pulling them up in to a stretch.

“How long did I get?” I question groggily, my eyes burning for me to close them again.

“It’s quarter to six, when did you lie down? You were sleeping when I got out of the shower.” Cara comments, as I force myself to sit up next.

“So just under two hours maybe? Great.” I roll my eyes, as Cara bites back a laugh and shakes her head at me.

“Well that is what you get for refusing to take a turn on the bus!” Cara states, as I nod knowing that she was right. It was a decision I very much now regretted.

I pushed myself up, grabbing the plain white sneakers they had given us to wear, taking note that they had no laces or straps on them only stretchy pieces of elastic to help you squash your feet in to them.

–

“These are pretty decent though!” Cara examines her own complete lilac suit in the mirror this time, as I agree.

We had also been given a plain white tee for underneath along with a stretchy sports bra type of crop top, complete with a white pair of briefs for underwear.

It was a serious upgrade for us both, as we stood side by side and refrained from laughing at one another…

“Ok let’s do this then?” Cara beams, her blonde hair having dried down naturally in to soft beach waves whereas my hair was simply hanging dead ass straight – never seeming to take to a curl in its life.

“You remember the way there?” I test with sheer hope, as she just shrugs.

“I think so, if not I’ll just ask somebody.” Cara deadpans as though it were obvious, as my eyes widen.

“Ask one of the scary armed guards you mean? You’re on your own there!” I state, as she unlocks the door and twists the handle to free us from the room.

“Get used to it sweetie, we’re headed straight for a prison! I bet the guards inside are way worse than the ones on here – this will be like their baby guards!” Cara claims with a chuckle, sending a violent chill through me at the mere thought of it.

She had certainly perked up after her shower, returning back to her regular sassy self, and despite me feeling fresh and slightly rejuvenated, I was still very much shitting my pants in this place…

“Look at your face!” She turns and suddenly cackles, as she walks us in the directions that she believes is right. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

I hush her loudly, my eyes darting around at the surprisingly empty corridors, terrified that one of the scary looking men would hear.

“It wasn’t that before, when you were almost near pissing your pants!” I argue, reminding her that she had previously been just as nervous as I had been.

“Yeah but when I was in the shower I got to thinking, this will be a great life experience for us! What a story it will be to tell our kids we made fifty grand by hanging out in a crazily scary prison!” She shrugs before continuing on: “Think about it, they won’t just throw us to the wolves, will they? We will be protected.” She nods, as I chew my lip listening to her.

Maybe she’s right?

Maybe I’m overthinking this?

They can’t just toss us in there without proper training or resources, that would be insane!

“It’s up these steps!” Cara points, as we notice the first guard stood at the top of them, holding his large gun facing down towards the ground – a bored look plastered across his face,

We still hadn’t seen any of the other girls yet, so were we the only two that had signed up?

No, we can’t be!

The guy with the scar had said we were the last two which means there is more around somewhere…

 

Breed Me. Daddy Alpha – Chapter 248

The second we had both approached the recognisable room from before, one of the guards stood posted just outside of the doors shoved open the heavy metal to allow us entry, as a sudden wave of intense silence engulfed us both.

It was as though the entire room collectively held its breath.

My stomach twisted as we awkwardly took a couple of steps in to the assembly hall, the oppressive weight of all those new eyes turning to lock onto us the second we had entered.

So this had been where everyone else was hiding….

The air hummed with an odd tension, or maybe it was the large industrial air conditioning fans, making the oxygen thick and heavy and somewhat hard to breathe.

There were rows of cold metal chairs set up in perfect, almost military precision dressed with a sea of rainbow bodies – each having signed up for the same fate we had.

I swallowed the thick lump forming in my mouth, realising that the only empty seats were towards the very front…

And down there, standing atop a small platform, was the man with the scar himself – arms folded firmly across his chest.

A chill ran down my spine. He was flanked by two other men, both dressed in sharp suits, their faces unreadable but intimidating nonetheless. They stood so still, so rigid, as if they were statues in some sick version of a government monument.

We must’ve looked like two deer caught in headlights as we stopped just inside the door, caught in the gaze of the one hundred other women in attendance.

Their stares were unrelenting – some nervous, some curious and others just bored all of them in different variations of the same uniform as us: colorful tracksuits of varying shades.

It felt like I had walked into some twisted pageant where we were the latecomers, the ones who hadn’t gotten the memo on how to behave, how to fall in line.

“Are we late?‘ I whispered under my breath towards Cara, but I could feel her hand brush against mine, her grip tight.

The once fiery confidence that had fueled her on the way here was instantly gone. She was as unnerved as I was, and the raw silence from the crowd made everything ten times worse. Not a sound. Not even a cough. Just a hundred pairs of eyes watching us, waiting for something – anything -to happen.

“Move and go take your seats down the front,” The guard who had let us in here suddenly hissed out from behind, his tone harsh and evidently announcing him as the most impatient in the room.

I instantly snapped out of my daze and forced myself to move forward, tugging Cara in closely behind me.

Our footsteps echoed across the room, each one a reminder that we were very much out of place now, our every movement magnified in the silence.

Why did we have to be the last here?!

As we approached the front, my heart pounded in my chest, becoming too loud in my ears.

The man with the scar’s eyes locked onto us. I tried not to let his gaze unsettle me, but it felt like he could see right through me, right through everything I was trying to hide.

“Just in the nick of time, you two,” he said, his voice a low growl as he nodded towards the large wall clock. “I hope you won’t be causing us any issues throughout this project.”

I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as the others beside him sniggered.

His words were casual, but the underlying threat was unmistakable. I could feel Cara’s fingers tighten around mine, her hand clammy and nervous.

We sank down in to our chairs, like two rabbits before a wolf, and the air felt like it was closing in around us.

The scarred man’s gaze swept over us one last time, his face impassive. He shook his head at our lack of response, a sigh escaping his lips as though we were the least of his problems.

Without another word, he motioned to one of the suited men standing nearby. The man stepped forward with the grace of someone who had done this a thousand times before. He adjusted the microphone, tapping it twice before his voice filled the room, crisp and formal.

“Ladies,” he began, his tone flat but authoritative, “you came here today amongst the very first to participate in this country’s most groundbreaking project to date: The Prison Project.”

I could feel my pulse quicken, and I shot a quick glance at Cara. Her eyes were wide, but she didn’t speak. Neither of us had any idea what we were really in for–not until now.

The suited man continued, his voice echoing. “Out of over a thousand applicants, you are the lucky one hundred who have been chosen. Chosen, not just for your bravery, but for your ability to step up and survive the unimaginable.”

He paused, letting the words sink in, before leaning into the microphone again. “The true purpose of this project, however, is not as simple as it may seem. While you are here for the purpose of helping to reform some of our maximum–security inmates, you will also be stepping straight in to the lions den with them.

The end goal here, is nothing like what we have ever done before. We want each of you to work to form a genuine connection with these men, many of which are cold and completely cut off from any and all human emotion… and so we want to conduct this study in an attempt to change that!”

My stomach churned. Stepping straight in to the lions den?! Building a genuine connection with cold and cut off men?!

The thought that we were currently nothing more than lab rats in some twisted government game made my blood run cold… there was a very large chance this could all go terribly wrong…

The man’s eyes flickered across the room, scanning the hundred women before him with a slight smirk. etched upon his lips. “Each of you will be assigned to your inmate and in the next few hours when we dock, you will be moving in to our newly adapted cells by nightfall with them – rest assured that we have upgraded these majorly for the purpose of your stay of course.”

Excuse me?!

I blinked profusely, glancing at Cara as my fingers trembled.

We were going in to this totally blind – zero prep or training!

These men could end us by morning!

This was a sheer gamble to see whether or not the prisoners would let us survive in their world with the hope of gaining their freedom in return!

This project was all about giving these dangerous men TRUST to keep us safe and alive in THEIR domain?!

In simple terms, we were being sent straight in to a cell to live with a random dude who’s done unspeakable crimes…

The man with the scar gave us one last, lingering look before he stepped in to address us all once more. “We will have each of you sign the final contracts now, before briefing you on the inmate you have been assigned to one by one – equipping you with skills on how to navigate their moods and behaviour. After this, we trust that you’ll make the best of your circumstances.”

I swallowed hard, feeling a knot in my throat as some of the girls in the room whispered in what seemed to be excitement?!

Were some of them actually keen to become a prisoners fucking roommate?!

What the fuck are we doing here… this was all wrong!

Breed Me. Daddy Alpha – Chapter 249

After a sharp whistle from the suited man who hadn’t yet spoke a word, the sound of heavy boots striking the floor sliced through the silence…

Dozens of guards began to file into the room in perfect formation, each of them dressed in stark black uniforms, some wearing riot vests with thick gloves and heavy belts loaded with gear. Their faces were blank, unreadable, and all of them carried thick clipboards and sealed folders tucked beneath their arms.

I instinctively sat up straighter, as did every other girl in the room, fearful that we would suddenly be arrested for breathing the wrong way.

The air thickened.

The guards didn’t speak at first – they simply spread out, lining the perimeter like a black wall closing in on us all. on

Their presence shifted the atmosphere from tense to near crippling as I could feel fresh tears prickle at my eyes…

What the hell is happening now?!

Then, almost as if on cue, they just started yelling names one by one…

“Leah Marsten,” one barked from the far right corner, scanning his clipboard. A short girl in a pale yellow tracksuit stood up, visibly trembling at being the first one called out.

She hesitated until the guard motioned sharply for her to move towards him.

“Madison Cove!” came another voice, this one closer to where we sat. A girl with dark braids jumped up, her face unreadable as she complied.

“Erin DuPont, Rachel Lin. Sophie Vale…”

One by one, girls were plucked from the rows of chairs, led out single file through a side door at the far end of the room,

I clenched my hands in my lap, trying to steady the tremble that had taken over my fingers as I awaited my own name.

Cara leaned in slightly beside me, her voice barely a whisper. “They’re just all disappearing through that door, I don’t want to be separated from you yet.” She panics, as I blinked profusely to steady my emotions.

I nodded, throat dry. “Just going out to sign the last contract I guess? The guy said we would be assigned our prisoner and given a brief, this must be it, it’s going to be fine.” I nod along with my own reasoning, reminding myself of what the man had told us would happen next.

“Yeah.” Her eyes flicked toward the last few guards. “Still not hearing our names though, we must not be in the first group thankfully.” She sighed in relief, and I couldn’t blame her.

More names were shouted – faster now, more rhythmic. “Tina Salvo. Jasmine Kerr. Abbie Hope…”

Girls shuffled up. Some with stiff spines and brave expressions, others wide–eyed and terrified. And us? We just sat there clutching one another, the tension clawing at our skin like invisible hands.

After what felt like an eternity, the scarred man stepped forward again.

–

“Those who have not yet been called,” he said, voice rough and unimpressed as we watched on in silence, “just wait in here, you’ll be taken in batches of twenty to sign and have your debrief. Until then Eat. Rest. Talk. Loosen up. You’ll need your wits about you – we will arrive at the prison shortly.” He concludes, before cutting the mic and climbing off from the platform with the two suited men following at his back.

Seconds later, a set of double doors at the side of the hall swung open.

In rolled five long metal carts pushed by more guards, the wheels screeching out an unpleasant sound. The smell of food hit us instantly as my stomach growled at the foreign smells – warm bread, cold meats, something tangy and spicy I couldn’t quite place. It would’ve been completely mouthwatering if I wasn’t so close to throwing up from nerves in the midst of this silence…

The buffet tables were wheeled to the center of the room and arranged quickly. Tray by tray, they revealed sandwiches, wraps, plates of fruit, potato chips, small cold pasta salads in plastic bowls. Water bottles. Juice boxes. Cheap lemonade. You name it!

Girls began to rise. Hesitant at first. Then in small packs began laughing nervously, whispering among themselves when they realised that this was our time to act ‘free‘.

They were acting as though this were just some regular summer camp vacation… and we all knew it wasn’t!

Cara nudged me with her elbow. “Should we?”

I hesitated. “Might be our last meal,” I muttered darkly as she scoffed at the joke.

She gave me a look. “Don’t say that or you’ll damn well jinx it!”

But still, we stood and headed towards the queue.

Our steps were slow, guarded, as we tried to suss the others out…

I kept my eyes down as we approached the food, but I could feel people watching us. Judging. Measuring up the others just as we had.

There was a group of girls ahead of us in the line – five of them from what I could count, all wearing matching mint–green tracksuits like some fucking girl band.

Their hair was done up in high ponytails and messy buns, makeup clad faces glowing with excitement rather than fear. One of them, tall and loud with a tiny waist and sharp cheekbones, was practically buzzing.

“I can’t believe we meet them tonight,” she gushed to her friend. “I swear if I get a big tattooed bad boy, I’m not even coming out of the cell.”

Her friends squealed in agreement, giggling like it was some big sleepover we were having with celebrities.

One of them snorted. “I saw one of the inmate profiles online – shaved head, arms like tree trunks. God, I hope he’s mine.”

I blinked. Wait — online? They’d seen profiles? But how? Why didn’t we think to google that?!

Cara and I exchanged a stunned look at what we were hearing.

“Are they… excited?” I whispered back, testing if she had witnessed what I had.

“Clearly.” Cara’s jaw clenched. “And they came here together as though it’s a vacation for them. Great. We’re stuck in a prison with influencers.”

I almost laughed. Almost. But my nerves were still shot.

The mint–green girls kept chatting as they piled their plates with triple–decker sandwiches, sugary cupcakes, a mountain of fruit. One of them even snatched a second juice box like she was back in a school cafeteria.

Cara leaned closer. “Do any of these girls even look over thirty to you? Everyone’s so damn young! I thought it would be a mix of ages…”

I glanced around as I grabbed a wrap and some cold pasta. “No you’re right! They all look around our age. Eighteen, maybe early to mid twenties at most.”

Cara nodded slowly. “It’s by design. They wanted girls young enough to be desperate and dumb enough to say yes, and pretty enough to keep the inmates interested – it’s so obvious what they’ve done.”

The words made my stomach churn again, and I set my plate down on the edge of the buffet table, suddenly unsure if I could even stomach any of it.

“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” I murmured.

Cara touched my elbow. “No, you’re not. You’re going to eat, and you’re going to survive this, Margot. Just like we survived everything else – come on, just remember we’ve faced worse than this.” Cara nodded, but her eyes held an uncertainty in them.

I gave her a weak nod. She was right. We didn’t fight tooth and nail to sneak on a bus, risk getting arrested, and escape our lives back home just to fold now.

We need that cash no matter what we have to do to get it…

Breed Me. Daddy Alpha – Chapter 250

Cara scraped the last of her pasta salad up with her fork and let out a long sigh. “Tell me this isn’t the best damn food you’ve had in, like, forever.”

I laughed weakly, chewing the final bite of my chicken wrap. “Unfortunately for us, it definitely is.”

We both glanced at the buffet, still half–loaded with pastries, sandwiches, and those mini chocolate brownies that looked criminally good.

“I mean,” Cara said, eyeing the brownies, “we could go back up. Screw it. Might be our last good food for a while who knows what they’ll feed us in a prison. Better yet, this might be our last supper!”

I raised a brow at her. “You said not to jinx it, remember?” I complain, understanding that we had put an end to the death jokes.

She rolled her eyes. “Too late for that now. I realised that we’ve already jinxed it when we applied to be a part of this! We may as well enjoy the perks.”

I laughed again, but there was no real humour in it. The food was good – hell, it was amazing – but that gnawing unease in my gut hadn’t left since we stepped into this place. No amount of sandwiches or pasta salad could drown out the feeling that we were in way too deep.

Still, Cara stood, grabbing up her empty plate. “I’m getting another brownie. Come on.”

I followed her reluctantly, stuffing another water bottle into my tracksuit pocket like some desperate scavenger. Just in case. If we were being shoved into a cell later tonight, who knew when we’d see anything this decent again?

But before we even reached the halfway point of the buffet line, the side doors creaked open again with an ominous groan.

The room quieted almost instantly.

Girls began to trickle back inside in twos and threes

those who had been taken out earlier for their inmate briefings. They returned with strange expressions: some dazed, some unnerved, and others… oddly giddy.

“What the hell?” I whispered to Cara as we slowly backed away from the table, our appetites dying a second death.

“They’re coming back like they just got back from a fucking spa day,” Cara muttered.

“Yeah, or speed dating in hell.”

We watched as the scarred man returned to the platform, eyes flicking over the room like a hawk surveying its prey. The guards flanking the door resumed their clipboard ritual.

“The next twenty will now be called!” He announced, as the same routine played out…

“Kylie Antwood… Olivia Tees…

Then, the name I’d been dreading to hear:

“Margot Belle.”

The words sliced through the air like a blade.

I froze mid–step. My plate slipped slightly in my hands, threatening to fall.

Cara immediately turned to me, her face paling in real–time. “It’s okay,” she whispered, grabbing my hand. “You’ve got this. It’s just a briefing. You’re going to be fine, you’ll be back soon to tell me all about it.”

Easy for her to say – since her name hadn’t just been read out like a damn death sentence.

But I nodded anyway, even as the blood drained from my face.

A tall man stood waiting for me near the exit. He was bald with a thick, muscular frame and eyes that didn’t seem to blink. The moment our eyes locked, he gave the smallest nod which I was oddly grateful for… showing me that this was all ok.

I forced my legs to move, though they felt stiff and uncooperative, like I was wading through syrup. Cara gave my hand one final squeeze before I broke away and headed toward the guard.

He didn’t say a word – just turned on his heel and marched out the side door and I had no choice but to follow him.

The hallway was cold, long, and metallic. Every footstep echoed like a gunshot, the fluorescent lights above humming like they were seconds from blowing out.

I wanted to look back. But I didn’t.

At the end of the corridor, we stepped into another wide room – this one sectioned off by large freestanding curtains, giving the illusion of privacy. The space buzzed with quiet voices, most of them female. I spotted a few of the girls from earlier, seated on metal folding chairs beside grim–faced guards who were flipping through files with pages full of clipped photos and typed notes.

My stomach flipped in anticipation knowing that I was about to hear all about the inmate I had been assigned to…

What was his crime? Was he a killer? Would he attempt to kill me?!

The bald guard cleared his throat to gain my attention, before he motioned toward a curtained section at the far end. I stepped inside to find two chairs and a plain metal table. A thick sealed brown folder was already waiting on it, my name typed neatly across the tab.

This is it, I thought…

“Sit,” the man finally said, voice like gravel. “Let’s open this then and see what prisoner number you got.”

I lowered myself down into the cold metal seat, spine rigid, heart pounding. Whatever happened next, I had to be ready. Because the second this folder opened… my inmate, my fate, would no longer be hypothetical.

This was the beginning…

Watching as the man ran his thumb along the top to tear it open at a snails pace felt almost criminal in itself.

Eventually, he fumbled to draw out the contents, turning it the right way up before his eyes began to scan – shielding the documents from my view.

I watched him, waiting patiently for him to speak, but instead, his face began to contort before my very eyes.

“This… this can’t be fucking right…” he scowled at the page, shuffling them around before slapping the sheets back down on top of the table causing me to flinch at the harshness of his action.

He stood from his chair, moving around me to poke his head back out in to the open space: “Commander! Come check this out for a sec!” He bellowed, not caring much for anyone else around us as my palms grew sweatier… what was happening?!

He returned quickly to his chair, as my heartbeat quickened in confusion, watching him collect up the sheets once more.

Seconds later another man appeared by our side, a large gun hanging across his chest as I swallowed hard, not liking that its tip was pointing directly at me…

“What is it?!” He snaps impatiently, as the guard turns the pages and points to something on there.

“Prisoner five hundred?! That’s got to be a mistake? How’d he get approved for this shit? You do realise if he passes, he might actually get released!” He rants to the commander, as I feel my tongue begin to swell from inside of my mouth.

Who the hell were they talking about?!

“Ah yes, nah, there’s no mistake I’m afraid. He applied and got approved, said he wants to make a real effort. No doubt his father had a hand in this, you know how it is.” The commander shrugs, before his eyes shift to me. “Good luck to you little lady, that’s all I’ll say on this one!” He laughs to himself, addressing me as I shift uncomfortably on my chair.

Without another word, he leaves us, as the guard before me rubs a rough hand across his forehead with a sigh.

“Well I suppose I better brief you on this as much as I can… the man you’ve been assigned to goes by the name: Coban Santorelli.”

I blinked, drinking in the name as I tried my best to keep up…

Coban Santorelli?

Even that sounded dangerous…

What have I done?!