From Prison To Billion-Dollar Empire

Chapter Six Arrested

 

Water dripped down to the ground like a ticking clock, each drop echoing through the cold concrete corridors. 

In the same manner, metals clanged together, filling the prison with a harsh, restless rhythm that never truly stopped.

“Move it!” a warden barked. He held a bludgeon stick firm in his right hand and fired the order at a prisoner dressed in an orange jumpsuit. The sound of boots scraping against the floor followed immediately after, rough and impatient.

His name was Warden Markson, the senior warden in Greenfield Prison. He was a man who walked as though the walls themselves bowed to him, his presence heavy and unchallenged.

“Sir, he’s here. He’s been re-arrested as you ordered.” A junior warden bowed slightly toward Markson, his voice low and respectful as he delivered the message.

A few hours earlier, Markson had received a call from Michael Kingston. Michael was the one who had gotten him the job at the prison, and it was through his recommendation that Markson had risen to the position of senior warden. 

Michael’s instruction had been clear: Liam was to be re-arrested, and this time, he was never to be released again.

“Very well,” Markson said, a slow smirk spreading across his face.

“Take me to that son of a bitch,” he hissed. 

He inserted the key into a large padlock, twisting it with deliberate force as he secured the cell. Moments earlier, he had shoved a prisoner back inside, escorting him with unnecessary roughness, just to remind everyone who was in control.

Liam stood at the prison yard.

Earlier, when the massive prison gate creaked open, the first place they had pushed him was the yard. It was always the starting point, the arena every prisoner passed through the moment they walked in. 

Liam smirked. He was still playing along.

Two hours ago, when Michael had called the warden and ordered his re-arrest, Liam had been standing calmly in the compound. He was about to leave when the prison police arrived without warning.

They didn’t ask questions even when the orders were wrong. In seconds, cold handcuffs were snapped around his wrists.

Liam knew exactly what he could have done.

He was now the richest man in Greenfield. A single call to Edward would have made this situation disappear instantly. 

But no, he wanted to see it. He wanted to watch how corrupt the prison system truly was when no one thought they were being observed.

“You!”

“You are back!!”

“I will make sure you regret ever stepping foot here for the rest of your life.” Markson tapped his bludgeon as he circled Liam, slow and deliberate like a butcher inspecting a piece of meat before the slaughter.

“Is this how you are?” Liam asked calmly, his voice steady as he looked directly into Markson’s eyes.

Slap!

Liam felt the sting on his cheek, but he didn't flinch. To Markson, it was a slap. To Liam, it was another zero added to the lawsuit that would destroy this man's life. He was recording every word, every strike, and every violation in his mind. He wasn't a prisoner; he was a judge conducting an audit.

“How dare you!” Markson barked, his face tightening with rage.

Liam had served five years in this prison. In those five years, he had always known Markson was a bully.

He bullied prisoners relentlessly and sometimes made sure to leave inflicting pain behind as a reminder of disobedience. No one ever left his presence untouched.

He cut hands, broke legs, and blinded men if they failed to obey him. He was the man in charge, and everyone knew it.

Though Markson was a bully, Liam had once thought he was merely doing his job—brutal, yes, but still bound by some twisted sense of duty. 

But now, seeing that Markson was the very warden Michael had called, the one willing to lock him up without having committed any crime, everything became clear.

This wasn’t duty.

It was corruption.

"I want to see the Chief Warden," Liam said. His voice wasn't a plea; it was a demand.

Markson laughed, but the sound died in his throat when he saw Liam’s eyes. They weren't the eyes of the broken man who had left these walls days ago. They were cold, predatory, and filled with a terrifying level of calm.

For seven years now, he had been the senior warden, the highest authority within these walls. He ruled the prison without challenge.

He did and undid as he pleased, and there was never interference from his superiors. They never came to see what was really happening inside the prison.

“Hahahaha,” He laughed hysterically.

“Did you just speak to me as though you have some authority around here?” he sneered, leaning closer.

Liam smirked, saying nothing yet.

Markson raised his bludgeon, his face purple with rage. "I'll teach you about authority, you piece of—"

"MARKSON, DROP IT!"

The heavy steel doors of the yard swung open with a bang. Chief Warden Miller sprinted into the yard, his tie crooked and his face drenched in sweat. He wasn't looking at Markson. He was staring at Liam with pure, unadulterated terror.

"Sir... what are you doing?" Markson stammered, his stick frozen in mid-air. "This is just the Kingston’s trash. I was just putting him in his place."

Miller didn't even look at his Senior Warden. He shoved Markson aside so hard he stumbled into the dirt. Miller stood before Liam, trembling, and bowed so low his forehead nearly touched the concrete.

"Mr. Ryder," Miller’s voice shook. "There has been a... a catastrophic misunderstanding. My office just received a call from the Ministry. And the Board of Directors. And... and your representative, Mr. Hills."

Liam wiped the blood from his lip and looked down at the bowing Chief Warden.

"And what did Mr. Hills tell you, Miller?"

Miller swallowed hard, his eyes darting to the black SUVs now visible through the prison's main gate.

"He told me that as of ten minutes ago, the Kingsley Group has purchased the private equity firm that owns this prison. You don't just have authority here, Mr. Ryder..."

Miller looked up, his voice a whisper of defeat.

"You own the ground we’re standing on."