Two Hours Earlier...
The sun is setting over the city.
Orange light spills across the glass towers.
The streets are busy. Cars honking. People walking.
The noise of the city at rush hour.
Bella exits the front doors of her company.
She's wearing a tailored blazer.
Dark jeans.
Heels that click against the pavement.
Her hair is pulled back.
Her makeup is perfect.
But her expression is tight.
Stressed.
She's searching through her bag. Digging. Frustrated.
"Shit," she mutters under her breath.
She stops on the sidewalk.
Sets her bag down on a bench.
Pulls everything out.
Wallet. Keys. Lipstick. Sunglasses. No phone.
"Damn it," she says louder.
An employee walking past glances at her.
"Everything okay, Ms. Bella?"
Bella forces a smile.
"Fine," she says. "Just... lost my phone."
The employee nods sympathetically and keeps walking.
Bella exhales.
She starts putting everything back in her bag.
Her hands are shaking slightly.
Where the hell is it?
She's been distracted all day.
The business is growing faster than she can manage.
New investors.
New contracts.
New problems.
And then there's Jack.
The trial.
The uncertainty.
The distance between them.
I can't think about that right now.
She zips her bag closed.
Stands.
Turns toward the parking garage.
And freezes.
Daniel is standing ten feet away.
Leaning against a lamppost.
Hands in his pockets.
Smiling.
Bella blinks.
"Daniel?" she says. "What are you doing here?"
He pushes off the lamppost.
Walks toward her.
Casual.
Confident.
"I was in the area," he says. "Thought I'd stop by."
Bella's expression shifts.
Not quite warm.
Not quite cold.
Somewhere in between.
"You were in the area?" she repeats.
"Yeah," Daniel says. "Had a meeting nearby. Saw your building. Figured I'd say hi."
Bella glances back at the entrance.
Then at him.
"That's... nice," she says carefully.
Daniel smiles.
"You look stressed," he says.
Bella laughs.
It's not a happy sound.
"That obvious?"
"A little," Daniel says. "Rough day?"
Bella exhales.
"You could say that."
Daniel tilts his head.
"Want to talk about it?"
Bella hesitates.
"I don't know if—"
"Come on," Daniel says. "Let me buy you dinner. Nothing fancy. Just... food. Conversation."
Bella's jaw tightens.
She looks away.
"I don't think that's a good idea," she says.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm—" Bella stops herself.
Daniel steps closer.
"You're what?" he asks gently.
Bella shakes her head.
"I'm just... overwhelmed," she says. "With everything. The business. My personal life. I don't have the energy for—"
"For what?" Daniel asks. "A meal? A conversation?"
Bella looks at him.
His expression is soft.
Understanding.
Not pushy.
Just... there.
"I appreciate it," Bella says. "I do. But I can't. Not tonight."
Daniel nods slowly.
"Alright," he says. "Rain check?"
Bella forces a smile.
"Sure."
Daniel smiles back.
Then he steps forward.
Closer.
Too close.
Bella's breath catches.
"Daniel—"
He kisses her.
It's not aggressive.
Not forceful.
Just... sudden.
His lips press against hers.
Soft.
Warm.
Bella doesn't pull away.
But she doesn't kiss him back either.
She just... stands there.
Frozen.
Her mind is blank.
Daniel pulls back after a few seconds.
His hand lingers on her arm.
"You have no idea how thankful I am I met you," he says.
His tone is light.
But there's something underneath it.
Something Bella can't quite place.
She blinks.
"Daniel, I—"
"I'll see you around," he says.
He steps back.
Smiles.
Then turns and walks away.
Bella stands there.
Her bag hanging from her shoulder.
Her heart pounding.
What just happened?
She touches her lips.
They're still warm.
She looks around.
The street is busy.
No one noticed.
No one cares.
Bella exhales shakily.
Then she turns and walks toward the parking garage.
Her mind is racing.
The Present...
The cafeteria is loud.
Metal trays clanging.
Voices echoing off concrete walls.
The smell of overcooked food and industrial cleaner.
Jack sits at a table in the corner.
Alone.
His tray in front of him.
Mashed potatoes.
Mystery meat.
A roll that's more rock than bread.
He eats slowly.
Mechanically.
His mind is elsewhere.
The noise around him fades into background static.
He's thinking about the phone call.
About Bones.
About what comes next.
The witnesses.
The jury.
Borne.
His jaw clenches.
Bella.
He forces the thought away.
Focuses on the food.
On the routine.
On staying calm.
Then someone sits down across from him.
Jack doesn't look up.
"Hey, man," the voice says.
It's cheerful.
Too cheerful for this place.
Jack glances up.
Alfonzo
He's holding his tray like they're old friends.J
Jack ignores him. He takes another bite of his food.
Alfonzo doesn't seem bothered.
Jack sets his fork down.
"What do you want?" he asks.
Alfonzo leans back.
"Figured we could be friends. You know. Help each other out."
Jack stares at him.
"I don't need friends."
Alfonzo laughs.
"Everyone needs friends in here, man. Trust me."
Jack picks up his fork again.
Resumes eating.
Alfonzo watches him for a moment.
Then he leans forward.
"You want to know what I'm in for?" he asks.
Jack doesn't respond.
Alfonzo tells him anyway.
"Fraud," he says. "Multi-Million-dollar fraud scheme. Targeted lazy rich people. You know the type. Too much money, not enough brains."
He grins.
"I set up fake investment accounts. Promised them huge returns. They ate it up. Gave me everything."
Jack chews slowly.
Alfonzo continues.
"Made about 33 million before they caught me. Took them two years to figure it out."
He sounds proud.
Jack swallows.
"And now you're here," he says flatly.
"Yeah," Alfonzo says. "But not for long."
Jack glances at him.
Alfonzo leans closer.
Lowers his voice.
"I've got tens of millions hidden," he says. "Crypto. Offshore accounts. They'll never find it."
Jack's expression doesn't change.
"Good for you."
Alfonzo grins.
"I'm serious, man. I've got the money. I just need to get out of here."
Jack takes another bite.
"So get out."
Alfonzo's smile widens.
"That's where you come in."
Jack sets his fork down again.
He looks at Alfonzo.
Really looks at him.
"What are you talking about?"
Alfonzo gestures around the cafeteria.
"You've got connections, right? Powerful people. You'll be out of here soon. Everyone knows it."
Jack's jaw tightens.
"Do they?"
"Come on, man," Alfonzo says. "A guy like you? You're not staying in here. You've got lawyers. Money. Connections with people in the big leagues"
Jack stares at him.
I used to.
The thought hits him hard.
I used to have all of that.
Where are they now?
Where are the investors?
Where are the people who owed me favors?
Where's Bella?
His hands tighten around the fork.
Alfonzo doesn't notice.
"So here's the deal," he says. "You help me get out, I cut you in. Twenty percent. That's millions, man. Millions."
Jack's eyes are cold.
"I'm not helping you escape."
Alfonzo's smile falters.
"Why not?"
Jack leans forward slightly.
"Because I'm trapped in here with you," he says quietly. "Not the other way around."
Alfonzo blinks.
Then he laughs nervously.
"Come on, man. Don't be like that. You've got—"
"I've got nothing," Jack says.
His voice is flat.
Final.
Alfonzo stares at him.
Then he leans back.
"Alright," he says. "Alright. I get it. You're in a bad mood."
Jack doesn't respond.
He picks up his fork.
Resumes eating.
Alfonzo watches him for a moment longer.
Then he stands.
"Catch you later, man," he says.
He walks away.
Jack doesn't watch him go.
He stares at his tray.
At the food.
At the plastic fork in his hand.
Everyone's gotten comfortable.
The thought burns in his mind.
Cage.
Borne.
The investors.
The prosecutors.
Bella.
They all think he's finished.
They all think he's done.
They're wrong.
Jack's jaw clenches.
My name used to mean something.
It used to inspire fear.
Respect.
Now it invites disrespect.
He thinks about Cage.
About the attacks.
About the men who've come after him.
They wouldn't have dared before.
Not when I was at my peak.
Not when I was the King.
He thinks about the trial.
About Mercer.
About the witnesses who testified against him.
They wouldn't have spoken.
They would've been too afraid.
He thinks about Bella.
About the photograph.
About her kissing Borne.
She changed me.
The thought is bitter.
Angry.
King's Paradise was her idea.
She's the one who pushed me toward legitimacy.
She's the one who made me soft.
Jack's grip tightens on the fork.
I tried to be what she wanted.
I tried to be better.
And this is what I get.
His breathing is steady.
But his mind is racing.
I went soft.
I let my guard down.
I let them think I was weak.
He stares at the wall across from him.
Never again.
Movement catches his eye.
Jack glances up.
A man is walking toward him.
Big.
Six-foot-six at least.
Heavy build.
Thick arms covered in tattoos.
His head is shaved.
His eyes are cold.
Jack recognizes the tattoos.
The symbols.
The markings.
Cage's crew.
The man stops at Jack's table.
Looms over him.
Jack doesn't move.
He keeps eating.
The man doesn't say anything at first.
Just stands there.
Waiting.
Jack takes another bite of his food.
Chews slowly.
Swallows.
Then he looks up.
"Can I help you?" Jack asks.
His tone is calm.
Almost polite.
The man smiles.
It's not a friendly smile.
"You're Jack Morris," the man says.
"That's right."
"I've heard a lot about you."
Jack sets his fork down.
"Good things, I hope."
The man laughs.
It's a low, rumbling sound.
"Not really," he says.
Jack's expression doesn't change.
"Then maybe you should walk away."
The man's smile widens.
"I don't think so."
Jack stares at him.
"I'm not in the mood," Jack says quietly.
The man leans forward.
His hands press against the table.
"Cage sends his regards," he says.
Jack's jaw tightens.
The man reaches out.
His hand lands on Jack's shoulder.
Heavy.
Possessive.
"He wanted me to—"
Jack moves.
Fast.
His hand shoots up.
Grabs the man's wrist.
Twists.
Hard.
The man's eyes widen.
Jack stands.
Yanks the man forward.
Slams his face into the table.
The impact is loud.
A sickening crack.
The cafeteria goes quiet.
Everyone turns.
Watching.
The man groans.
Tries to push himself up.
Jack grabs the back of his head.
Slams it down again.
Harder this time.
Blood sprays across the table.
The man's nose is broken.
His lip is split.
Jack doesn't stop.
He grabs his fork.
Drives it into the man's hand.
The tines pierce through skin.
Through muscle.
The man screams.
Jack leans in close.
His voice is low.
Deadly.
"Tell Cage," Jack says, "that the next man he sends will be pissing blood for a week."
The man is gasping.
Choking on his own blood.
Jack pulls the fork out.
Wipes it on the man's shirt.
Then he grabs the man's head again.
Lifts it.
And slams it down.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The man goes limp.
His body slumps against the table.
Blood pools beneath him.
Jack steps back.
His breathing is steady.
His hands are covered in blood.
The cafeteria is silent.
No one moves.
No one speaks.
Jack looks around.
His eyes sweep across the room.
Every inmate looks away.
No one meets his gaze.
Jack sits back down.
Picks up Alfonzo's fork from the next table.
Resumes eating.
Like nothing happened.
Footsteps echo.
Guards rush in.
Three of them.
Batons drawn.
"What the hell happened here?" one of them shouts.
Jack doesn't look up.
He takes another bite of his food.
Chews.
Swallows.
"He slipped," Jack says calmly.
The guard stares at him.
"He slipped?"
"Yeah," Jack says. "Hit his head on the table."
The guard looks at the unconscious man.
At the blood.
At the fork wounds in his hand.
"Bullshit," the guard says.
Jack shrugs.
"That's what happened."
The guard turns to the other inmates.
"Anyone see what happened?"
Silence.
No one speaks.
No one moves.
The guard's eyes narrow.
"I said, did anyone see what happened?"
Still nothing.
Alfonzo, sitting a few tables away, clears his throat.
"I saw it," he says.
The guard turns to him.
"And?"
Alfonzo shrugs.
"He slipped," he says. "Just like Jack said. Hit his head on the table."
The guard stares at him.
Then at Jack.
Then at the other inmates.
No one is talking.
No one is moving.
The guard exhales.
"Get him to medical," he says to the other guards.
They move forward.
Lift the unconscious man.
Drag him out of the cafeteria.
The lead guard looks at Jack one more time.
"You're lucky no one's talking," he says.
Jack doesn't respond.
He takes another bite of his food.
The guard shakes his head.
Then he turns and walks away.
The cafeteria stays quiet for a moment.
Then, slowly, the noise returns.
Conversations resume.
Trays clang.
But everyone is watching Jack.
From the corners of their eyes.
Careful.
Wary.
Alfonzo stands.
Walks over to Jack's table.
Sits down across from him.
He's grinning.
"Holy shit," Alfonzo says. "That was—"
Jack's hand shoots out.
Grabs Alfonzo's face.
His fingers dig into his cheeks.
Alfonzo's eyes go wide.
Jack leans forward.
His voice is low.
Dangerous.
"Stop talking," Jack says.
Alfonzo tries to nod.
Jack's grip tightens.
"Stop following me," Jack continues. "Stop sitting with me. Stop looking at me."
He shoves Alfonzo back.
Alfonzo stumbles.
Catches himself on the bench.
Jack stands.
Picks up his tray.
Walks toward the trash.
Dumps it.
Sets the tray on the counter.
Then he walks out of the cafeteria.
Alone.
The inmates watch him go.
No one says a word.
Alfonzo sits back down slowly.
His face is red where Jack grabbed him.
He exhales.
"Jesus," he mutters. "What's got his panties in a bunch?"