From Prison Cell To Billionaire's Target

Chapter 7 7

Word Count: 605 | Released on: 13/04/2026

arrow, concrete hallways to a small

on a laptop. She looked to be in her late forties,

aning gig," the man said, tu

r sharp eyes scanning Dorothea from the messy

a asked, her

using the nickname. She

pad. "You sound like you swallow

rd damage," D

blink. "Crim

her hands into fists at her sides. If s

said, her voice

e looked surprised. Usually, the dr

her arms. "This isn't a halfway house. It's a high-

bed. I have no degree, no references, and I've been out of societ

e touching her cracked lips. "It's better t

ce. The ticking of the wall c

someone wear their desperation with such terrifying, unapologetic ho

d pulled out a single sheet of p

aff dorm and one hot meal a shift. But I hold half your pay until you pass the trial. If yo

k the paper. The physical relief

u," she w

it," Alicia said, loo

she reached the line for Emergency Contact, she

, but she didn't comment. She pressed a button on her phone

e took one look at Dorothea's ragged clo

door to a cramped, windowless room containing two sets of metal bu

m. They stopped talking and glare

nly empty bed-a bottom bunk with a thin, l

springs dug into her thighs. It wa

son cell. She had a

Chapter End

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From Prison Cell To Billionaire's Target

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“The freezing rain lashed against my face as I clung to the iron gates of the Hendrix estate, begging for a chance to prove I didn't kill my best friend. I had come here for mercy, but the man I had secretly loved for years had a different plan. He didn't want to hear my truth; he wanted to see me broken. As the sun rose, the estate manager delivered the final blow. He shoved Emery's phone into my face, showing a forged text message that framed me for her death, then turned his back as the gates slammed shut. My own family didn't offer a lifeline, either. When the police came for me, my parents didn't fight for my innocence; they chose to disown me to save their bank accounts from Alfredo's wrath. I was thrown into Rikers Island, stripped of my dignity, and subjected to years of calculated, brutal torture paid for by the man who once held my heart. How could the person I loved turn my life into a private slaughterhouse based on a lie? After three years of hell, I walked out of those prison gates with nothing but a scarred body and a hollow soul. The woman who loved Alfredo Hendrix died in that cell. Now, I'm back in the city where it all began, and I'm done hiding.”