Chapter 2

The clang of the prison gates echoed like a final verdict.

Cold metal shut behind me, sealing away the last pieces of my freedom. The air inside was thick, laced with disinfectant and despair, every breath sharp in my lungs. I stood frozen, staring at the endless stretch of gray walls, each one humming with whispers of broken promises.

My wrists ached from the handcuffs that had only just been removed. The faint red marks across my skin seemed to mock me, branding me with the choice I had made.

I signed the papers.

For him.

For Eloise.

For a love I once believed was worth everything.

But as the cell door clanged shut, a different truth settled into my bones and I immediately knew this was not love. This was betrayal wearing the mask of devotion.

The mattress sagged under my weight when I sat down, springs digging into my thighs. The tiny cell smelled faintly of mildew, and the single barred window let in only a sliver of light. I stared at it, clinging desperately to the illusion of sky, to the world beyond these walls.

I told myself I could endure this. Adrian said it would be days. Perhaps weeks at most. He would come for me. He had promised.

But deep inside, a voice whispered otherwise.

My hand brushed my stomach instinctively, and fear spiked sharper than ever. I had thought of telling him the truth that night, of whispering it in his ear like a plea that might change everything. But then I heard him with Eloise. His words. His laughter. His betrayal.

No. This child was mine alone now.

“New girl,” a rough voice broke through my thoughts.

I lifted my head. Two women stood at the doorway, eyes sharp and assessing. One had tattoos running down her arms like inked chains, her lips curled into a half-smirk. The other was broader, her gaze calculating.

“You look soft,” the smirking one said, stepping into the cell. Her boots thudded against the floor with deliberate slowness. “Rich girl type. What are you in for?”

My mouth went dry. Lying had never been my strength, and now, every word I spoke could shape my survival here.

“Fraud,” I forced out, steadying my voice as best I could.

The woman’s smirk widened. “Fraud, huh? So you’re smart with numbers, not fists.” She leaned in close, her breath reeking of cigarettes. “You’ll learn quick in here, princess. You either fight, or you bow.”

My chest tightened.

The other woman spoke, her voice calmer, more measured. “Leave her, Dara. She won’t last a week. No point breaking what’s already broken.”

Their footsteps faded into the corridor, but my heart still raced. My hand pressed harder against my stomach.

I was not broken. Not yet.

Night fell heavy and restless. The cell block buzzed with murmurs, laughter, and the occasional cry that was quickly silenced. I lay curled on the thin mattress, eyes wide open, mind replaying Adrian’s words.

“Trust me, sweetheart. I’ll make it right.”

But his hands had already been on Eloise. His lips already curved for her.

***

The betrayal burned, but what seared worse was the silence. Days stretched into weeks, each one blurring into the next. No letters. No visits. No whispered promises through the glass. Adrian never came. Eloise never called. The outside world had swallowed me whole and forgotten I ever existed.

Hope is a dangerous thing in a place built to crush it.

I marked time in shadows on the wall, each tally a reminder of the life slipping past me. My stomach swelled slowly beneath my prison uniform, each change in my body both a comfort and a terror. No one here knew. No one could know.

Until the day came when I could not hide it anymore.

***

The warden summoned me, his expression unreadable. “You’ve been… cooperative. Good behavior,” he said, flipping through my file. “You’re being released early.”

My heart stuttered. Release? Already?

Relief tangled with dread. Because I knew the truth—this was not Adrian’s doing. It was the system. A formality. He had never lifted a finger for me. The thought of this broke me more.

The cold air outside the gates hit like a slap. I stepped into freedom, yet felt more shackled than ever. My pockets were empty. My family would not take me back not after the headlines had screamed my guilt. Adrian and Eloise were nowhere to be seen.

I was truly alone.

The weight of my child pressed against me, a constant reminder that I could not afford to falter. I needed food, Shelter, Safety. And yet, with nothing to my name, the thought crept in like poison. Ans I thought perhaps adoption was the only way.

Better a future with someone who could provide for my child, than a mother who had nothing to her name but scars and betrayal.

I pressed my palm against my belly, tears stinging my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I whispered to the life inside me. “I don’t know how to keep you safe.”

The world felt colder than the cell I had left behind.

And then, as if fate had been listening, a shadow fell across my path.

A man. Tall, broad-shouldered, his suit crisp even against the evening chill. His gaze locked onto me with startling intensity, like he could see straight through the cracks I tried to hide.

“Why are you crying?” he asked. His voice was deep, steady, threaded with a quiet authority that made my pulse skip.

I stumbled back, instinctively wary. “I’m not—” My voice broke. I tried again. “It’s nothing.”

His eyes flicked to my rounded stomach, sharp and unyielding. He saw. He knew.

And yet, there was no judgment in his gaze—only something else. Something that felt dangerously close to understanding.

“Nothing?” he repeated softly, as though testing the lie on his tongue.

For the first time in months, I could not find the strength to answer.

The man’s lips curved slightly, not into a smile, but into something that felt like the beginning of a bargain. “Then let me ask differently,” he said. “What would it take… for you to keep your child?”