Login via

The Prison Project (by Bethany Donaghy) novel Chapter 142

Coban’s POV

“Nah,”1 shrugged, leaning back in my chair until it creaked under my weight. “I have more.”

Both suits stilled.

Surely they hadn’t thought I’d be so easy? They’d asked me to kill a man for them for Christ sake?!

The taller one’s jaw tightened just enough to betray annoyance, while the shorter one exhaled out through his nose for another time…

Good

Let them feel it.

Let them see I wasn’t some dog they could whistle over and throw scraps to.

“Controlling the swap,” I went on lazily, folding my arms across my chest, “was only the important part of the bargain.”

I watched the way the taller one’s fingers twitched before he forced them flat against the table.

A small tell.

He didn’t like that I still had cards to play.

They sat down then, the both of them.

The shorter one scraped the chair back sharply as he lowered himself, while the taller one tugged his tie loose with two irritated fingers.

“We would hate to be rude Coban, but we’ve got pretty important work to get back to,” he said, voice clipped.

“So how about you cut to the chase and tell us what else you want?”

A smirk curled across my face before I could stop it.

I loved when men like them grew impatient.

Impatience made them sloppy.

But before I could speak, the shorter suit held up a hand, eyes narrowing as he studied my still-smeared face.

“Actually,” he said slowly, “let me ask you something first, out of curiosit..”l arched a brow.

He leaned in, elbows on the metal table, eyes sharp.

“Did you really break your own nose just to get our attention today?”

A dry laugh burst out of me before I could help it.

Then I scoffed.

“Of course not,” I lied easily. “Got landed with an unlucky shot.”

They both stared at me, unimpressed.

“When I ended up up here,” I drawled next, tilting my chin casually, “I decided to use a… friend… of mine to get your attention.”

• Friend

The word even tasted sour

Addison wasn’t my friend

She was a desperate distraction for most men around this place who I regretted touching long before Margot ever stepped foot here..

But these two didn’t need to know that.

The taller suit raised a brow. “A friend, hm?”

“That’s what I said,” I replied coolly.

His lips twitched. “And this ‘friend’ of yours would be the blonde nurse who practically begged to be written up on professionalism last month?”

1 froze.

Just a flicker.

But he caught it.

Of course he fucking caught it.

The taller suit allowed himself a small, smug curl of satisfaction. “We’re aware of all your little… extracurriculars, Mr. Santorelli. Even the ones you think go unnoticed.”

I clenched my jaw.

Addison’s name felt like the devil in this room now, another loose thread I’d have to cut later, if she got too bold.

The shorter suit spread his hands. “Regardless, you have our attention now. And you want more terms.”

“Yeah.”

“Well?” he pressed, irritation slipping back into place. “Say it.”

Fine.

They wanted blunt?

Id give blunt.

” want access.” I paused, “Access to call my father anytime I need.”

The taller suit let out a humorless laugh. “Absolutely not.”

I didn’t move an inch. “Then I’m not killing Newman.”

Silence.

It dropped between us like a brick.

Their eyes snapped up.

“You think we have the authority to approve all that on our own?” the shorter asked.

“I think,” I said slowly, “that if you walk out of this room and tell your superiors you’ve found a clean, discreetway to erase Newman without involving guards, without a report, and without risk to your program… they rubber-stamp any deal I want.”

Neither man replied.

Because they knew I was right.

And they hated it.

The taller suit leaned back, expression unreadable now. “We will discuss your additional terms. But you should know this…

He leaned in slightly.

“If we accept, and you fail your end? If you hesitate? If you botch this up?”

His eyes sharpened to ice.

“We won’t just take your girl away from you. We will remove her from the project entirely.”

My blood ran cold

They meant it.

They’d drag her out.

Erase her.

Send her home or somewhere worse.

“I won’t fail.”

The shorter suit finally nodded once. “Then we’ll return to you before the Mix-Up begins.”

He stood first.

Then the taller one.

As they reached the door, the shorter suit paused, turning halfway back toward me.

“And Mr. Santorelli?”

I lifted my chin.

He smirked.”Next time you want a meeting… try using your words instead of your face.”

And with that , the door fell shut behind them..

Reading History

No history.

Comments

The readers' comments on the novel: The Prison Project (by Bethany Donaghy)