Chapter One: The heavy silence of betrayal.

Prologue

Amanda pov

Amanda was numb as she walked into the private visitor’s section. It was a complete eyesore to be honest; the benches were almost falling apart _unhinged from the nails that once held them together. The table was filled with crawling ants and evidence of a possible termite infection.

The paint on the walls, which she thought was once white –or blue-or gray. At that point, no one could tell. The open area was surrounded by prisoners in orange. Their gloomy expressions a far cry from the vibrant orange hue: Most were in tears and others were overtaken with the feeling of loss and yearning caused by months apart from their loved ones _who they only got to see for 30 minutes. Others were held in high concentration, carving the faces of their lovers in their memory probably to keep them company till the next time they got a chance to meet again. Unlike the other prisons, that would only be for another year.

Yeah, she was in the shit hole of prisons if one had ever heard of such a thing.

She scoffed at the pathetic display of love and commitment.

It all sickened her.

This was her living hell and, unlike the others, such empathetic emotions didn’t consume her.

She felt absolutely nothing, she was void.

 She was just like them.

Weak

vulnerable

Pathetic

 Her only reward was betrayal; locked in it by the only man she had ever loved. The man who stood before her now, as the guards, released the chains from her ankles and placed her in the private room where they always kept her, for these little chats with him .

A two-person conversation, where he did all the talking .

She hated it each year, each year more infuriating than the last.  She would never get over the bitter taste of betrayal.

Every year, he came to visit her, with that sad, regretful expression on his face that utterly disgusted her.

Cyrus

Her father-in-law , the man who used to be the love of her life.

Years ago she would have done everything to protect him from his sadness, to comfort his wounds, to bleed for him. Even after he rejected her so many times. She meant absolutely nothing to him.

But that was a long time ago Amanda.

Amanda before she met him and stupidly slept with him.

The Amanda that fell for him .

The Amanda that was nothing but a pun, in his sick games .

Amanda who wasn’t rotting in jail because of him.

"Hello Princess" he whispered.

CHAPTER ONE

Amanda POV

The sound of the prison cell doors opening did nothing to calm down Amanda’s beating heart. Even after wearing the casual loose t-shirt and black sweatpants that her best friend Layla convinced her to put on. She still felt suffocated. She was still glad she listened to Layla during her agonizing strip search at the security post. Having fewer clothes to take off made the whole ordeal shorter.

 She was forced to release her hair from the tight bun she made earlier this morning in her sorry attempt to look presentable for her father-in-law. Which wasn’t really thought of given the fact that she wasn’t going to some house in the country area with a picket house fence.

Where she and Marcus’s father, after a wonderful dinner, would have probably been bonding by looking at embarrassing baby pictures over a glass of chardonnay. She almost laughed at the image that popped up in her head.

Her future father-in-law lived in a maximum-security prison and that probably explained why she had to strip naked in front of the indifferent security posted at the entrance and the multiple scans she had to endure. Marcus' father was a high-profile criminal. That will explain why he was locked up in this scary place . She had never seen obscene security systems like this before . She would know: a long time ago, she wanted to be in the force.  The prison had high impenetrable steel walls that no man could dare bridge. The top of its fences was covered with electrical barbed wire; they were so far up. She almost struck a nerve trying to see it all but stopped, when she noticed the dogs that could be mistaken for wolves roaming around the fences.

There was not a single window in sight, not even a flicker of light penetrated the room. The only source of light was the cameras pointing at every angle; not even an ant could escape its radar. Red laser lights passed around every 5 minutes around the gates.  

“Is this where he has been for the last 10 years?”

After the most humiliating security check of her life, she was finally ushered in . The floors were kept pristine and clean and there was no pungent smell coming from the prison cells nor roaches or rats. It wasn’t what Amanda was expecting.

Perhaps she thought she would find what she was typically used to. She thought she would hear the groans and bickering of prisoners or even feel their dead bit eyes on her as she made her way to her destination. But the place was awfully quiet, most sounds were muffled by the sound-proof prison rooms. She had never seen anything like it before. The sitting areas looked like lounge rooms with soft cushion chairs and tables which were mostly covered with the remnants of a board game that went wild last night. Each of the prison rooms had bullet-proof doors muffling every sound of the inmates. She noticed the hall where  the other prisoners were receiving visitors and was about to head that way ,when  one of the security guards stepped in front of her  ,without a single word, holding what looked like a blindfold in his hand.

“I don’t understand”

“Why do you have to blindfold me? “She asked, refusing to trust the guards who hadn’t uttered a word to her since she got here.

The expressions of the security men hardened.

“We can’t risk anyone knowing where exactly Cyrus law is locked up.”

“It is a matter of national security”, the guard said, looking at me dismissively.

“I don’t know what in God's name possessed you to come here”, a guard who appeared to be a trainee mumbled.

 The security guard looked at her, like someone would look at a person trying to shoot themselves.

After a sigh, she finally nodded, not letting the words of the security guard deter her.

She came this far, she might as well get this over with.

  After a long walk of deafening silence. She finally heard the sound of a keypad; it must be the pass code she thought. She was suddenly nervous, her heart beating out of anticipation. For a moment, she started second guessing why she even came here in the first place. The sound of the door unlocked, stopped her train of thoughts. She lost the feeling in her legs, finding herself unable to take the next step. The guards nudged her into the room before she could find her motor movements.

Suddenly, she felt the blindfolds fall from her eyes and the sound of the door clicked behind her all in an instant, almost like the security men were completely terrified to stay even a second longer.

Her eyes tried to adjust to the light, which wasn’t much. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting when she walked into a supposedly dead man’s cell but the sound of a man moaning was definitely not it.

“Yes!!! Take it you little slut”

“Cyrus Please”, the woman said, coughing and trying to catch her breath.

“Don’t you dare stop, you little slut”

The sounds of the woman slurping on Cyrus' cock echoed all over the cell room.

The only light present was a dark red light emitting from the center of the cell, but it was enough for Amanda to see the woman on her knees, her tears :washing away the once carefully over-applied mascara on her face as she choked on Cyrus' cock. Her hands were tied behind her back while her father-in-law fucked her mouth hard and rough not even the woman’s whimpers had him slow down his pace.

 Amanda guessed she was a security guard taken from the shirt of her uniform and her pants discarded on the floor. It was similar to what the security men at the guard post wore. Cyrus used her batch as a leech to keep her head in place while he drove into her.

Amanda was stunned at the passionate scene playing out in front of her. She tried to find the words, to let them know that there was another person in the room. But she couldn’t help but watch him. Even in the fluorescent glare of the cell room ,he dominated the space_ he was six feet tall with broad shoulders straining against the thin fabric of his jumpsuit ,the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms that were covered with veins that formed an artistry. Time behind bars had really been good for him. She thought ,His gray hair was disheveled probably from running his rough-knuckled, calloused hands through them. Her eyes trailed down his body inappropriately. His jumpsuit had been ripped apart at the front, open from his throat just enough to betray the hint of something dark and intricate beneath. Her gaze snagged-there on the silver ink peeking above the coarse fabric. She wondered what else was hidden, the thought alone slithered through her warm and treacherous. She shivered at the bids of sweat trailing down his exposed skin, it was covered with scars . He was completely shredded. His abs were as hard as rocks, evidence of tireless hours of working out.  She couldn’t stare any further, but she found her gaze lowering down to his impressive v-line and finally to the true price, “his thick 9-inch hard cock” which left a warm sensation spread all over her body.

She always thought Marcus was handsome in a boyish way, but cyrus was masculine. He had that raw, mature effect that arose your most feral desires, with not even a hint of softness on his face. His face was sturdy, with sharp jawlines, shadowed by the day-old beard with flickers of gray hair and a framed mouth that curled at one corner when he noticed her staring. His nose had a slight, defiant crook, but it was his eyes that unraveled her –deep-set, heavy-lidded, the color of whiskey. They held hers with a knowing look, as if he could hear the way her breath hitched every time he moaned, as if he could feel her arousal right from where he stood.

His eyes challenged her, and she couldn’t look away. In fact, his eyes dared her not to even blink. He increased his pace, _performing, putting on a private show. It was like the woman on her knees faded, and it was only them, their eyes speaking a language only they could both understand. She was the puppet and he was pulling her strings. His pupil dilated, getting more turned on by the look of lust in her eyes. Her purpose for coming, long forgotten.

When he spoke, his voice was low, a rumble that vibrated straight down her spine.

“You going to keep looking at me like that, sweetheart, or are you going to join in the fun?”

And just like that, her trance was broken.