Chapter 163
Magnus Hale
I stand up slowly, straightening my rumpled uniform. I put my hands in my pockets, tilt my head, and stare at him.
1 take a step forward, just to see his body recoil by millimeters. This draws low laugh from me.
“You were lucky that day.” My voice drags, almost playfully. “But now… now I’m really in the mood to have some fun.”
Adrian turns his face slowly, forcing himself to look at me. His eyes widen the moment he realizes what is happening, and savoring that shock plastered on his expression warms my chest with pleasure.
“Yes, little angel.” I laugh softly, leaning into his ear, so close I feel the shiver run up his skin. “It’s exactly what you’re thinking.”
The back of his neck stiffens, his entire body locking up. I seize the moment and inhale deeply, taking in his sweet scent.
‘I’m going to take a shower.” My voice is low and firm. “I want you in my cell when I get back.”
I pull my face back just a bit and let the venom drip into my tone.
“Because if you aren’t… I’ll kill your precious allies.”
Before he can react, I kiss his forehead as if it were a gesture of fatherly tenderness. False, cruel, intentional. A touch of affection that carries the harshest sentence I could give him.
I turn away, leaving him at the table, and walk out of the cafeteria.
The hallway greets me with the smell of rust and ingrained sweat. I shove my hands into my pockets and breathe deeply. Two days locked in solitary. Brushing my teeth was only possible because Osman brought them in secret. A shower? None.
And my body craves water, cleanliness, and that sense of rebirth.
I head toward my private bathroom. I pass familiar faces; some look away, others pretend to be busy, avoiding eye contact with me.
Until I see him.
The goddamn guard who dared to seize my wrist.
I look down at my wrist: the skin is still healing, pink, thin, marked by the cut of the handcuff. The memory of that humiliating pressure makes me boil inside.
He stares at me, uncomfortable, but doesn’t look away.
I smile. A calm, deceptive smile, as if I were just going to walk right past him.
Poor idiot.
Before he can open his mouth, my fist hits his face with dry force. The crack echoes through the hallway, accompanied by the repulsive sound of teeth breaking against the floor.
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Chapter 163
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He staggers, hands covering his mouth, but has no time to react. A leg sweep knocks him down; the impact resonates through the concrete.
I step onto his chest without hesitation and begin to crush his head with the weight of my foot. Once, twice, three times. The sound of snapping bones mixes with muffled groans until everything goes silent.
I keep going.
I stomp until his head becomes a shapeless mass, splattering hot blood across the floor. It splashes onto my shoes, forming a slow pool around the body.
Only then do I stop. I breathe deeply, letting out a long, heavy, yet relieved sigh. Part of the anger built up in solitary drains away along with that blood.
I look at the corpse without remorse.
Nothing but trash.
I start walking again, firm steps, toward the bathroom. The door creaks, the dim light illuminating the damp walls. On the sink, as always, a clean uniform awaits me.
I begin to undress, each piece falling to the floor like a liberation. My skin stings from sweat, dirt, and the blood that still covers me.
I step into the shower and turn the handle. The water falls cold and heavy running over every muscle, washing away the accumulated crust. I tilt my head back, eyes closed, letting the stream wash my face, hands, and legs. The red flows down the drain, disappearing as if it had never
existed.
The sensation is almost spiritual.
A smile forms on its own.
Ah… how I missed this.
I scrub my body with soap, the lather sliding down slowly, stripping away the grime and the weight of the days spent locked up. Then, the shampoo spreads through my long hair and beard, the fresh fragrance filling the bathroom. The white foam swirls down, and I feel purified.
I brush my teeth calmly, savoring the freshness spreading through my mouth. I spit into the sink and run my tongue over my teeth, satisfied.
1 turn off the shower. The silence is heavy. I take the towel and dry every part of myself slowly, then put on the clean uniform. The coarse fabric scratches my cold skin, but it makes me feel renewed.
I catch a quick reflection in the mirror: clean, invigorated, and ready.
A wide smile breaks across my face.
