From Prison To Dominance!

Chapter 3

Processing took longer than Rhys expected.

First it was the paperwork, then a bag containing his old clothes was handed to him.

Some guard pressed a dollar bill into his hand.

Rhys stepped through the final gate.

He stood at the curb, scanning the lot for the black Mercedes his wife Alisha had promised him in her last letter, eighteen months ago.

The last letter she’d bothered to send.

The lot was empty.

Rhys sighed. Surely she was caught up at work and forgot.

He flagged a taxi instead.

The driver glared at his disheveled hair and worn out clothes, and visibly recoiled.

Like Rhys might be contagious.

“Where to?” the driver finally asked, as if he already regretted stopping.

“Wayne estate,” Rhys replied and got in.

The ride was quiet. Rhys watched the city slide by.

By the time they pulled up outside Wayne estate, music was already drifting from somewhere inside the mansion.

Rhys smiled. At least they were hosting a welcome party for him.

Or so he thought.

He held out his dollar.

The cabbie stared at it like it was diseased.

“You’re kidding me, right? This doesn’t cover the drop.”

“It’s all I have,” Rhys replied honestly.

“Get out! I’m not running a charity here.” The cabbie grabbed the money and zoomed off.

Rhys didn’t bother watching him go.

Inside, the party was already in full bloom: champagne towers, a string quartet, and laughter from people who’d never once rationed bar soap.

Some of them he could recognize on the spot.

But as he walked through the front door, the room slowly quieted down as more and more people noticed him.

“Is that—”

“Oh my god, it is.”

“Who let him in? Someone get security.”

Whispers came in from every area.

The enthusiasm in Rhys slowly died as his eyes flickered around the crowd. This was no welcome party.

It was an engagement party.

But who was getting engaged?

“Yes! Oh my God, yes! I’ll marry you, Derrick!”

A familiar voice screamed from the left.

Rhys stilled as he turned.

He recognized that voice. He’d fallen asleep to that voice for many nights.

Standing there, hugging and kissing another man, was his wife Alisha!

Not just any man, Derrick Kent, CEO of Kent Incorporated.

The diamond ring glittered on her finger as she showed it off excitedly. A few hands clapped but Alisha noticed the energy was down.

She expected more reactions.

And that was when she saw him.

“Rhys!” she gasped.

The room stilled again. For a moment, an emotion flashed in her eyes.

Guilt, maybe? But then it got replaced with something darker.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Crashing my party like some lunatic,” she raged.

Rhys crossed the floor as the crowd folded back from him.

“I come home to my wife,” he said. “Instead I find a party celebrating her engagement to another man. Want to explain that to me?”

Alisha’s laugh was short and ugly.

“Home? You don’t have a home, Rhys. You have a cell number and a release date,” she said.

“Did you really think I’d wait for you? A lowlife criminal with nothing to his name? Even when we were together, you were as useless as a rag in a trash bag!”

She chuckled like a woman possessed by something.

“All you fucking did was clean and cook! What kind of a husband is that? Huh!” She looked around like she was looking for support.

“I took the fall for your family’s mistake. You created a product that killed thousands of people. And this is how you repay me?” Rhys questioned her.

He was trying so hard to control the anger inside him. Not just anger, disappointment, the one that wrecked his heart into pieces.

Alisha crossed her arms.

“Might as well be the most important thing you’ve ever done in your life.”

She took a step closer to him, but when she was close enough, she quickly covered her nose with her hand.

Alisha took a moment, and exhaled.

“You’re not man enough for me, Rhys. Marrying you was a mistake. I thought I could turn a charity case into a man. Turns out, you’ll always be for the gutters.”

Those words cut through Rhys’s heart like a knife. He stared at the woman he once loved, the one who promised she’d get him out of prison in a week.

As if repulsed enough, Alisha waved her hand. A servant ran towards her with documents at hand. She flipped the pages open and stretched out a pen.

“What is this?” Rhys asked her.

“A divorce arrangement. I thought I’d come to prison to break the news but honestly, this is better. Sign it, and get the fuck out of my life.”

Rhys gazed at the papers and then at her.

“You’ll regret this, Alisha,” he said to her, but Alisha flared up.

“You dare threaten me? Fucking loser!” She tried to slap him, but Rhys caught her hand in midair.

Something ran through his eyes that terrified Alisha a little. As she dragged her hand back, she lost balance and fell.

“Ouch,” she cried out. “Derrick! He’s assaulting me!”

Rhys watched as Derrick casually strolled over, wine at hand. He sized Rhys up and down, and scoffed.

“So, this is the ex-con.” Derrick’s mouth curled.

“Alisha told me you were pathetic. She undersold it,” Derrick said, and helped Alisha stand. Like he did it on purpose for the cameras. He then slid his arm around her waist and pulled her closer for a deep kiss.

Bile rose to Rhys’ throat.

“Listen man, no need to be brazen. The Wayne family thanks you for your services. But Alisha is mine now.”

Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out some dollar bills. Throwing them at Rhys’s face, he said:

“Here’s compensation. Pick them up and get out.”

“Just take the money, Rhys. Spare yourself the embarrassment at least,” Alisha added.

Rhys looked at them. He picked the cash, ripped them to pieces and threw them at Derrick’s face.

“Go fuck yourself,” he said to him.