Brown lay in his dimly lit cell, trying to sleep, his mind raced, trying to recall the faces of the people Connor claimed he had hurt. But they were blurry, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being unfairly targeted. Suddenly, the cell felt like an oven, and Brown undid a couple of buttons on his prison overall. The air was thick and choking, and he started coughing. The murmurs from the prison hallway grew louder, and he noticed a thick plume of smoke pouring in through the tiny air vent. The smoke filled the corridor, and the agitated banging from the other cells told him he wasn't imagining things. The prison alarm began ringing wildly, mixing with the fire alarm, and an automated voice came from the speakers. "All prisoners assemble at the muster point until the fire is put out." A prisoner screamed, "Well, let us out of here then!" The automated locks disengaged, and the cell doors clicked open – except Brown's door. He watched in alarm as prisoners broke out of th

Karen Shapiro. The name that was usually musical when he said it felt like lead now. It was like sandpaper, hurting him when it had never done so in the past. The name was now strange to him, it was a name that he was surely going to remember for days. He stared at Sergei, who scratched his neck in worry. He had probably seen the name, and just like his boss, he was worried. He knew the name, they all knew the name. It wasn't what they were expecting, and thus they were still in shock, their gazes doing the obvious, roaming the room as they tried to understand what their minds was telling them. Mark knew at that moment that he was probably never going to trust anybody again. The past five years of his life was a jumbled mess, a mess that he even couldn't control. How had it gotten to this point? Instead of his enemies to reduce, they were piling up, and he found himself wondering if he had genuine friends at all. “Somebody you might know, sir?” It was Matt, adjusting his gla

Her son was terribly injured, and while he was out of the prison, he had paid for his freedom with his well being. “Rotterdam hospital, ma'am. We managed to rush him there. He's in the emergency unit, and I think we managed to get him there without the police noticing. He's still in his prison clothes, so I think the hospital might call the police if care isn't taken.” Swallowing hard, Jenett Darius grabbed her purse from underneath her pillow. She was finding it hard to breathe once again, and she slowed down, slapping her midsection repeatedly to calm the panic attack that was looming. Just when she thought her life couldn't get any worse. It was becoming worse, before her eyes. “Thank you, sir. I'll be there in a jiffy. I appreciate you helping him.” The line went dead, telling her that the man who had helped her son and played the good Samaritan probably had other problems to deal with than having to attend to a hysterical mother on the phone. She exited her apartment, h

She was the devil herself, a different form of Delilah and Jezebel rolled into one. Not only was she charming, she was confident in her charm. She knew she could sweep him off her feet with just one stare, with a dress as simple as this, with makeup as prudent and as little as she had applied on her face. She was flexing her powers in front of him, baiting him. Mark found himself wondering what her plans were at that moment. She looked as if she had something up her sleeve, but she was going to be surprised when he launched his own offensive. He was going to turn the game on its head. And before she would come to acknowledge that, it would've been too late. “Mark Darius in the flesh. My God, your skin glows as usual. And this tuxedo? Don't tell me you dressed because of me, Mark.” He shrugged, placing his suitcase on the floor of the restaurant as he outstretched his arms to draw her into a hug. God! The way her body slipped into his told him that if he hadn't discovered a

“Lawyers are quite expensive, my dear. We can get the state to issue one for you, but I have no idea why it seems to be taking so long. Trust me, Elena. I'm trying my best…” “Your best is not enough, mum!” At that moment, she bursted into tears, unable to hold it in any longer. As far as her being in prison was concerned, her mother had played a large part in it. It was all there, her greed and her ambition to always eat from the coffers of the rich and wealthy. It was backfiring now, and she was the one suffering for her mother's sins. But wasn't she lying when she said she didn't enjoy everything she had done to Mark Darius during the short period they had been married? She was lying alright. She had enjoyed it all, every single bit of it. She was also inside the cell because it was her that had committed the crime, not her mother. Yes, her mother was the foundation, but she was the builder, maybe she was the mason even. “You know I'm here because of your greed, mum! If on