Page 72 of Imprisoned

I sit back, rubbing my temples. The evidence is gone, but Thompson’s threat lingers. He won’t be the last to try to use this against us. Every second we stay here increases our risk of exposure.

My phone buzzes.

Ready for tomorrow?

Despite everything, a smile tugs at my lips.

The original footage is replaced with loops of empty hallways and routine checks. But doubt gnaws at me—did I get everything? Could I have missed something?

The weight of what I’ve done settles heavily in my chest. There’s no going back now.

I log into the prison’s financial system, my fingers dancing across the keyboard with practiced ease. The terminal’s glow illuminates my face in the dark office. Another wire transfer, another piece falling into place.

Ten thousand dollars—such a small amount compared to what we’ve already moved, but every bit counts. I route it through three different shell companies before it lands in our account in the Cayman Islands. The numbers on the screen make my heart race—$313,456.89 total.

The familiar rush of adrenaline courses through me as I confirm the transfer. Each time I do this, I expect alarms to blare and security to burst in. But nothing happens. The system accepts the transaction without question, just like all the others.

I check my watch—five hours until morning. That’s when I’ll make the final big move—$200,000 more. It’s risky to do so close to our escape, but timing is everything. The following chaos will mask the transfer, and we’ll be long gone when anyone notices.

Brazil.

New names, new lives, and enough money to start fresh. I close the terminal and gather my things, leaving everything exactly as found.

My hand brushes against the small USB drive in my pocket—our insurance policy containing every dirty secret this prison holds. Tomorrow morning, while everyone scrambles to contain the riot we’ll create, that final transfer will slip through unnoticed, and so will Axel and me.

I take one last look at my office. Five years of study and hoping to build a career, all sacrificed for a man who makes me feel more alive than ever. The old Willow would have been horrified. But I’m not her anymore.

32

AXEL

The morning sun filters through the barred windows, casting long shadows across my cell. Today’s the day. My skin buzzes with anticipation, but I keep my expression neutral. Can’t give anything away.

Rico slides up next to me in the yard, his voice low. “Boss, we need to know. Who’s coming?”

I scan the yard, watching Snake and Dante roughhousing near the weights. Tommy sits alone by the fence, nose buried in a book. The kid’s smart and keeps his head down. That’s what we need.

“Get Tommy and pack your stuff. You’re both coming.”

Rico’s eyes widen. “What about the others?”

“Snake and Dante? Too unpredictable. Can’t risk them around her.”

“They won’t take it well. They’re lifers, man. This was their only shot.”

I turn to face him, my voice sharp. “You think I don’t know that? But Dante’s got a hair-trigger temper, and Snake’s loyalty goes to the highest bidder. One wrong move from either of them...”

Rico nods, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Yeah, you’re right. They’d be a liability.”

“Willow’s already in the tunnels. She’ll handle the transfer, and then we’ll move. Everything’s set.”

“What about Marcus’s crew?”

“They won’t be a problem. Guard rotation changes in twenty minutes. That’s our window to make sure shit hits the fan, providing a distraction.”

Rico shifts his weight, glancing back at Snake and Dante. “You sure they’ll still start the riot if they’re not coming?”

“Don’t tell them yet.” I grab his arm, squeezing hard enough to make my point. “We need that chaos. If they know beforehand, they might fuck it up out of spite.”

---