CHAPTER 6

The crash echoed through the ward with the force of an executioner’s axe. The heavy iron doors slammed shut in unison; the reverberation made my teeth chatter. I stood in the center of my empty cell, chest heaving, still feeling the phantom of Kael’s mouth burning against my lips and the imprint of his rough hands seared into my skin.

Across the corridor, Kael was locked in his own grim cage. His gray eyes remained fixed on mine through the narrow bars. The air between us remained thick, heavy, and dangerous. I thought I’d have a second to breathe, to figure out how I’d survive the night. I was wrong.

Ten minutes after the lights went out, a key turned softly in my lock. I scrambled back against the wall, heart pounding in my throat, expecting Officer Graves or Vance’s brutal gang to burst through the door. Instead, the door creaked open just enough for a shadow to slip inside. It wasn’t a guard, nor was it a bloodthirsty inmate.

It was a young guard I’d never seen before; she was holding a folder and looked terrified. She tossed a heavy cardboard folder onto my thin mattress.

"Are you Hart?" the guard whispered, glancing nervously down the empty hallway. "Vance said to give you this. You have an hour to check the routing numbers for the offshore accounts before the night shift changes.

I froze, staring at the folder. "What is this?" "Kael’s black-market ledger," the guard hissed.

"He said you were smart enough to find the leak."

The door clicked softly shut, leaving me alone with the papers. My hands trembled as I opened the folder in the faint blue light from the floor. Page after page, the paper was filled with handwritten bank codes, names of shell companies, and cargo manifests. Millions of dollars circulate through this prison every month.

I scanned the columns; my expert eye automatically broke down the financial calculations. Then, my blood ran cold. I found no leaks originating from the cartel or Officer Graves.

I found the original transfer that had implicated me in financial fraud six months prior, the very crime that had stripped me of my life, destroyed my reputation, and condemned me to this living hell for eight years. The signature authorizing the shell account wasn't my former boss's; it bore the seal of a blind trust belonging to Kael Vance. The room began to spin.

My vision blurred as rage, shock, and a sense of absolute betrayal crashed over me like a tidal wave. The man who had just saved my life—the man who had pinned me against the stone wall and forced me to beg for his contact was the very reason I was wearing an orange jumpsuit. He hadn't simply claimed me from prison; he had orchestrated my downfall to bring me here.

"You found it, didn't you?" A deep, gravelly voice broke the silence. I snapped my head up. Kael was standing inside my cell. The heavy iron door behind him stood ajar, unlocked thanks to the network of internal contacts he controlled. He had emerged from the shadows so stealthily that I hadn't even heard the lock turn.

I sprang from the bunk, clutching the paper in my fist, my whole body trembling violently. "You..." I managed to choke out, tears of rage burning my eyes. "It was you.

The offshore account that took the ten million... the transfer that pointed straight to my computer... You framed me." Kael didn't deny it. He didn't even flinch.

He slowly closed the distance between us; his massive frame blocked the dim light, and his face was an unreadable mask of stone.

"I needed the best forensic accountant in the country," Kael said in a flat, dangerously calm voice. "The cartel was skimming off my shipments and hiding the money in domestic accounts I couldn't trace from within these walls. I needed someone clean. Someone capable of finding a needle in a haystack of ghost code."

"So you destroyed my life?!" I shouted, planting myself in front of his chest and shoving him with every ounce of strength I had left.

"You framed me! You threw me into a cage with animals and corrupt guards just so I’d do your damn calculations!" Kael withstood the shove without budging an inch. His storm-colored eyes darkened; a flash of raw, bitter emotion broke through his ironclad self-control.

Before I could strike him again, Kael grabbed both my wrists, twisted my hands behind my back, and pinned me against his hard chest. The paper was crushed between us. "Yes," Kael growled, his face inches from mine and his warm breath grazing my trembling lips. "I dragged you into hell, Hart. I ruined your comfortable, perfect life because I needed your mind."

"You damn bastard..."

"But there was one thing I didn't count on," Kael interrupted, his voice dropping to a rough, desperate whisper. His heavy hand slid down my back to grip the nape of my neck tightly, pulling me in so close that our heartbeats collided.

"I didn't know you’d look at me like that. I didn't know I’d burn this whole prison down just to keep anyone else from laying a hand on you." "Let me go!" I snapped. I struggled to break free from his grasp, but my traitorous body was already reacting to his heat; my chest heaved against his, and the intense friction left me breathless. "I hate you.

I swear to God, Kael—I hate you."

"Hate me all you want," Kael growled, pressing his mouth hard against my ear while his hand gripped my hip with a possessive, brutal intensity that kept me pinned against him. "Use that rage to stay alive. Because now you know the truth: you aren't just my prisoner, Hart. You are the only key to my entire empire."

"Tomorrow morning," Kael whispered—his gray eyes locked on mine as he backed toward the unlocked door, you’ll finish tracing the code. Because if you don't give me that name by noon, Graves and the cartel will torch this city block with both of us inside." I was left speechless; the words had vanished. So, Kael knows the reason why he has been helping me.