The Prisoner: A Novel Novels & Stories

Earlier in the pond is evidence of that. There are no windows, so I can't tell if it's morning or night. I don't know how long we’ve been here, but we’ve been given food twice, so I’ll guess two days. I’ve been waiting for what Walden threatened to come. I’m hoping whatever it is, Theo and I can overcome it together. I hear the cell doors opening. The cell is made of silver, preventing us from breaking it down. “It's time,” the man who brings our food says, walking toward me.

Next book coming soon... Missing youth Chapter ????: Inmate 0214 The low hum of chatter within the other cells echoed and boomed but I remained laying on m- bed facing the wall. footsteps approached my cell and stopped. Knocks on the cell bars made it apparently clear that they were trying to get my attention. “Rise and shine prisoner, today's your lucky day.” I rolled over clearly confused… “What?” “You are Don Trever cell C317 inmate 0214, correct?”

I need to make sure they are well taken care of. When I got to my prison cell, I found an inmate sharing with me. There he lied, reading a book. He was dark, heavy, and huge. His muscles were parked, you`d say he has been here for quite some time now. As I walked into the cell, the problem became one, am I or am I not going to greet this man?

My life took a huge turn. I was no longer Victoria the baker. I was Arianna Bocelli, Alejandro Amato’s prisoner. “Let me go.” I dug my feet into the ground as Capello pulled me along, ropes digging into my skin. I’d recovered from my momentary shock and become dangerously stupid as I continued to yell at men who wouldn’t bat an eyelash as they sent me to the world beyond.

Seth was not only furious with himself, but with the entire staff, specifically the head of the prison who approved the transfer of cells. Apparently, the man that attacked her was only in prison for a white collar crime so it understandable he was chosen to be her new cellmate. It simply shows no one ever knows the true darkness deep inside a person. Daisy didn't even know his name. If it was mentioned briefly, she refused to listen and was reluctant to ask, feeling it would make him feel more of a human. It should be impossible for any other human do what he did to her. He was a monster, plain and simple.

I left Aaron for the meantime on the part where the fountain pens are to go to the novel section. Since I saw Sophie Lark's Brutal Prince on TikTok's recommendation, people who have read this say that it has a strong female lead. I enjoy books of that genre, therefore I may be interested in reading it. I looked at the shelves. I also picked up a book and read the synopsis on the back when Aaron came to me here. "You like reading books?" he asked. I turned my eyes on him, "Uh, sometimes. If I'm interested in the plot," I answered.

Third person pov: The Council’s high-security prison was a cold, underground fortress made of white stone and reinforced steel. There were no windows, no clocks, and no sounds except for the hum of the air vents. In the center of the most secure cell sat Silas. He wasn't wearing his expensive silk suits anymore. He was in a plain gray jumpsuit, his hands and feet shackled to the floor. But even in chains, he didn't look like a prisoner. He sat with his back straight, a calm, bored expression on his face.

he said. The door shut with a heavy thud. I sat. My hands trembled as I clasped them together. The pain in my ribs sharpened every time I breathed too deeply. My thoughts tangled into a thousand jagged edges — Iris’s name at the center of each one. Minutes crawled by. Five. Seven. Ten. Then the door opened. Two guards entered, escorting a prisoner between them — wrists cuffed, ankles shackled, the chains clinking with each step. Gerald Marlowe.

AUTHOR'S POV The rain had turned into a relentless, icy deluge by the time the prisoner transport van pulled away from the precinct. The city lights blurred into long, distorted smears of neon against the black asphalt. Inside the reinforced steel cage of the vehicle, Zane Callahan sat huddled, his hands cuffed to a belly chain, his expensive suit now a wrinkled rag of defeat. But even in the dim, flickering light of the cabin, his eyes hadn't lost their feverish, manic edge. He was already rehearsing the names of the judges he could bribe and the high-priced fixers who could turn a double homicide into a mistrial.

What was any of us thinking? He wanted to scream, but refused to give the guards he knew were outside his door the satisfaction. He listened as best he could to what was happening on the other side of the door that kept him prisoner. Eventually he pulled himself away from the thick barrier between himself and freedom and padded back and forth across the thick, Persian carpet that covered the majority of the floor. He couldn’t decide which was worse; knowing that he was once again a captive of vile, cannibalistic vampires or being locked in a twelve by sixteen-foot room with no windows and the only exit being a solid door that was bolted on the other side. He had a clear idea of what a pri