The Billionaire They Buried

Chapter 6: Welcome To Hell

The cell door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the block before everything went quiet again. My cellmate studied me for a few seconds before speaking. I've seen your face all over the news. They're saying you killed your grandfather."

"I didn't."

"That's what everyone says when they get here." He said it without much interest, like he'd heard the line too many times to care one way or another.

I climbed onto the top bunk, the mattress thin and unforgiving beneath me. Just days ago I was planning the future of Hayes Group with my grandfather. Now i am in prison , accused of killing the only man who believed in me.

"You won't last long," he said, I looked over the edge of the bunk.

"What makes you think that?"

"You still act like the world is a fair place."

"And?"

"In here, it isn't."

A buzzer cut through the block before I could respond. Cell doors unlocked one after another. "Dinner!" a guard shouted, and my cellmate got up. "You coming?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Trust me. Eat whenever you get the chance." He walked out, and after a moment I followed.

The cafeteria was loud, inmates talking over each other while guards watched from the walls, and the moment I stepped in, conversations started dying around me. That's him. The billionaire. The one who killed his grandfather.Someone laughed he doesn't look so dangerous , I ignored it, picked up a tray, and followed my cellmate toward an empty table. Just as I was about to sit, someone kicked the bench out from under the tray. It hit the floor, soup splashing across my boots, bread landing at my feet, and laughter erupted around the room.

Three inmates stood in front of me when I looked up. The one in the middle smiled. "So that's how rich people carry food?"

"I'm not looking for trouble," I said, bending to pick up the tray.

"Trouble's looking for you." He stepped closer, smiling like he had already picked out my funeral.

Behind me, my cellmate sighed. "Leave it alone, Briggs."

Briggs didn't even turn around. "This isn't your business."

"It is now."

The room went quiet. Briggs finally looked at him. "You protecting him?"

"I'm stopping you from doing something stupid."

Briggs smirked and shoved me hard enough that I stumbled. Every part of me wanted to hit him one punch, that's all it would take but I stopped myself, and he noticed. "I knew it," he laughed. "The rich boy doesn't have the guts." He leaned in close enough that only I could hear. "You won't survive in here." Then he walked off, and the cafeteria slowly went back to normal around us.

"I almost hit him."

"I know."

"Why do you think he started it?"

"He wanted you to throw the first punch. So you'd get punished."

A chill worked through me. "You think that was planned?"

"I would bet money on it." Nothing about my arrest had been an accident. Maybe this wasn't either.

Back in the cell that night, neither of us spoke for a while. I finally climbed down from the top bunk. "You know my name. I don't know yours."

He smiled faintly. "Daniel."

"Just Daniel?"

"In here, names are enough."

"Nice to meet you, Daniel."

"For your sake," he said, "I wish we were meeting somewhere else." I almost smiled at that almost until his expression hardened and his voice dropped into something more serious. "Ethan. I need you to listen carefully."

"I'm listening."

He glanced toward the cell door before lowering his voice further. "This afternoon, one of the officers came to see me. He offered me money to make sure you never walked out of this prison."

My heart skipped. "They're already trying to have me killed?"

"I turned him down. I've made plenty of mistakes in my life, but I'm not a hired killer." I believed him without needing to ask why. "If they offered me money "they'll offer someone else. Sooner or later they'll find a man desperate enough to say yes."

A knot formed in my stomach. "So I'm not safe here."

"Not even close." He held my gaze. "Can I ask you something? What did your grandfather leave behind that scares people this much?"

I hesitated. I couldn't tell him about the key, not yet. "I don't know."

He studied my face. "You know more than you're saying."

"I know he believed he was in danger."

"Then he was probably right." Daniel stood and walked to the small barred window, and without turning around he added, "From now on don't eat or drink anything unless you know where it came from."

"You think they'll poison me?"

"I think they'll use whatever works."

A scream cut through the corridor. Then another. Guards started shouting, an alarm blared through the block, and Daniel's shoulders went tense as he turned toward the door. "They've made their move."

I stepped beside him. "What is it?"

He didn't answer. Heavy footsteps thundered closer, keys rattled, men shouted over each other and then our cell door unlocked.

Daniel moved in front of me. "Stay behind me," he whispered.

Whoever was standing outside that door, I understood one thing with total certainty. They hadn't come to welcome me.