Cole sat on the edge of his bunk, the harsh fluorescent light above flickering intermittently. The sound of clanging metal doors, shouted orders, and distant fights echoed through the prison halls like a perpetual drumbeat. He flexed his fingers, still sore from the last cafeteria clash. Bruises had begun to fade, but aches remained a permanent reminder that every action here had consequences.The first few days had been pure survival. Now, weeks in, Cole began noticing patterns. The guards’ routines, which inmates moved where and when, and how the notorious prisoners like Brick, Scorpio, and Razor operated. Prison was more than just a cage; it was a game of chess. And for the first time, Cole started thinking several moves aheadHe walked through the corridors, observing the interactions. Smaller groups formed alliances, trades happened quietly, and those who weren’t careful quickly became prey.Cole passed by Vincent, a wiry man with sharp eyes, sitting near the infirmary. Vincent h

The night before everything went wrong, the prison felt unusually quiet.Cole didn’t know it yet, but somewhere in the shadows, a storm was gathering.In the far corner of Block C, behind the old laundry room where the cameras barely reached, three inmates gathered.Razor, the scar-eyed inmate who’d hated Cole since his first week, sat on a crate, tapping a metal spoon against his palm.Behind him stood Brick and Mace, two of the biggest troublemakers in the block.Razor leaned forward, his voice low and cold.Razor:“You boys heard the news? Pretty boy Cole’s supposed to get bail next week.”Brick scoffed.Brick:“Man walks around like he’s blessed or something. As if the system’s just gonna open the doors for him.”Mace cracked his knuckles.Mace:“What’s the plan? We ruin his day?”Razor’s lips curled — not into a smile, but something colder.Razor:“Oh, we do more than ruin it. We end it. Right here. Before he gets the chance to walk free.”Brick hesitated.Brick:“You sure about

The guards finally broke up the chaos, shoving inmates to the dirt, barking orders that barely cut through the roar still buzzing in Cole’s ears. When the dust settled, Razor and his crew blended back into the crowd like nothing had happened. No cuts, no bruises, no punishment, just the same cold confidence that said they owned the place.Cole was escorted back toward the cell blocks with Trey, Slim, and Jax. None of them spoke at first. Their breaths were ragged, their clothes dusty, and their eyes sharp from adrenaline.But Cole felt something heavier than pain building in his chest — a terrible, gnawing realization:He was running out of time.⸻IN THE CELLBLOCKWhen the guards finally shoved them inside their cells, Cole leaned against the wall for support. His hands trembled. His heartbeat still thudded too hard.Trey sat on the lower bunk and winced, holding his ribs.Trey:“You saw the way they moved, right? They weren’t trying to intimidate you. They were trying to end you.”C

The night felt colder than usual.Cole sat inside Mendes’ hidden safehouse — a dim, concrete-walled room lit only by a single lamp and the glow of the laptop in front of him. Shane, Jax, Slim, Trey, and Mendes gathered around the table, watching Cole scroll through surveillance photos and recordings that Eden’s men had gathered over the last few days.Pictures of Trojan.Pictures of Blake Morgan.Pictures of them smiling beside Uzumaki like two eager disciples.Cole stared at one photo longer than the rest — Trojan and Uzumaki shaking hands.Mendes cleared his throat.Mendes:“Cole… you haven’t said a word in ten minutes.”Cole didn’t look up.Cole:“I’m studying them.”Shane raised a brow.Shane:“Studying who? Trojan? Blake? Or Uzumaki?”Cole finally leaned back in his chair, eyes cold.Cole:“All of them. I need to understand why Uzumaki picked those two… out of everyone in this city.”Slim crossed his arms.Slim:“Because they’re snakes?”Cole shook his head.Cole:“No. Because th

The house was too quiet.Cole sat on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor for what felt like hours. The ticking of the wall clock echoed through the living room like a countdown, each second stretching the emptiness Fiona left behind.But Cole wasn’t the type to sit still in pain.Pain sharpened him.Pain made him think.And the silence was starting to speak.He exhaled deeply, rubbing the back of his neck as the realization settled:If Fiona—his strongest support—needed distance, then things had gotten worse than he wanted to admit.He needed clarity too.Cole’s Phone BuzzedHe blinked and grabbed it.It was a message from Rocco, his most loyal ally.Rocco: Boss, we need to talk. Something serious. Meet us.Cole’s jaw tightened.“Of course,” he muttered. “The world never sleeps.”He grabbed his jacket and stepped outside, locking the door behind him. The evening sky was a dull gray, heavy with clouds like a warning.Meeting With His AlliesCole arrived at