From Rags to Riches: The Untold Saga of the Trillionare

Chapter 267

The prison was a labyrinth of concrete and steel, cold and unyielding. Laurel had been inside long enough to know the rhythm of the place, the patterns that governed its days.

The sound of heavy doors slamming shut, the echo of footsteps in long, dimly lit corridors, and the murmurs of guarded conversations filled the air.

The walls, marked with the wear of time, held secrets and stories—none of which could ever be told freely.

Mornings began with a harsh clang, the sound of metal striking metal as the guards banged on the cell bars.

Laurel rose from her bunk, her body stiff from another night on the hard mattress. The dim light from the small, barred window barely reached her, but she had grown used to the darkness. She stood, stretching her arms, her muscles tense, and prepared for another day of surviving.

The mess hall was always tense—a boiling pot of emotions just waiting to overflow. As Laurel moved through the line, eyes followed her. She was used to it by now.

In prison,