Chapter 23
Elijah Vaughn
The sun had already set.
And I was screwed.
Really screwed.
The Reaper had been very clear: I was supposed to be in his cell by nightfall.
But I didn’t have a choice.
The pile of dishes seemed endless, and to make things worse, one of the cooks ordered me to fetch boxes of ingredients.
I didn’t want to risk disobeying and ending up dead, so I obeyed.
Now, finally free from that cursed chore, I looked at Fox, who gave me a brief nod.
We grabbed our trays and headed to the cafeteria.
Dinner was soup and bread – and this time, the bread wasn’t rock hard, which was already a small victory.
I just hope he doesn’t punish me for eating. I haven’t eaten all day. I’m starving.
We sat at our usual table, silence settling between us.
Since our conversation earlier, Fox hadn’t said a word, and deep down, I understood.
He’d lost too many people in here.
For him, this place is an endless cycle–a place where you learn to survive, not to fight.
Accepting that I needed to set aside my pride was hard.
But I understood his point of view.
He’d seen enough to know that resisting only makes things worse.
I wanted to break the silence, say something to lighten the mood, but before I could open my mouth, something warm poured over my head.
My body froze.
I reached up, feeling the sticky texture sliding down the back of my neck.
Soup.
The cafeteria erupted in laughter.
“Oops. My bad, newbie,” Vibora’s mocking voice rang out nearby. “Thought you were the trash p>
More laughter p>
More jeers.
My fists clenched tightly.
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Chapter 23
Son of a bitch
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Bage burned inside me, rising like wildfire,
I wanted to jump him right there–punch his smug face until it disappeared.
But before I could move, Fox grabbed my arm.
“Don’t do anything, he warned, eyes still fixed on his plate.
I turned to him, furious,
I’m supposed to just take this?” My voice dripped with humiliation and fury,
He sighed, tired,
Yes. If you react, it’ll only make things worse for you p>
My teeth ground together.
“Why? Who the hell is protecting that bastard p>
He tilted his head slightly, motioning toward a nearby table.
I followed his gaze and saw a group of inmates in black uniforms.
Among them, a massive, imposing man.
And right beside him, grinning smugly, was Vibora.
He’s the pet of that group’s leader now,” Fox said with disdain. “Since the Reaper tossed him aside, he had to cling to another protector to avoid getting killed or raped. And if you touch him, you’re fucked p>
My stomach twisted.
So that was it.
Vibora thought he could do whatever he wanted just because he had protection.
Coward. Opportunist.
Fox noticed my expression and added,
“If you’ve got a problem with it, talk to the Reaper p>
I let out a heavy sigh
I didn’t answer.
I just stood and left the cafeteria, feeling their stares and laughter still burning on my back,
I needed to clean up.
Anger pulsed if my veins.
It was already enough being trapped in this hell and now I had to endure constant humiliation? Since I stepped into the cafeteria this morning, everyone knew I’d been claimed.
They all knew the Reaper had fucked me.
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Chapter 23
That alone was already a suffocating burden.
And now this?
I felt disgusting.
At least the soup had been warm, not hot. That miserable piece of shit.
My steps were heavy, blood boiling.
So lost in my frustration, I didn’t even see what I was walking into–I slammed my forehead into something solid.
I looked up, ready to curse, and froze on the spot.
The Reaper.
“What happened to you,
bunny?” he asked, voice dangerously soft.
The
My throat went dry.
My body locked up.
Every instinct screamed for me to run.
He made a noise in his throat and raised his hand.
I flinched, closing my eyes tightly, bracing for a slap–but instead, I felt his touch on my cheek.
I opened my eyes slowly, pompe hat
“Who was the son of a bitch that poured soup on you?” he asked in a low, cold voice. Threatening.
I hesitated.
I wanted to lie.
But I knew I couldn’t.
I swallowed hard.
“It was Vibora p>
His lips curled into a humorless smile.
“That trash. His tone was casual, but every word slithered with danger. ‘I’ll have a little chat with him later. ”
A chill ran down my spine.
I knew exactly what “chat” meant.
“Come on now. You need to wash up, bunny p>
Before I could react, he took my hand and pulled me toward the black–uniform block.
Along the way, we passed a guard.
“Bring another uniform, he ordered without even looking back.
Sara Lili
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.