The Prison Project (by Bethany Donaghy) novel Chapter 217

Coban’s POV

The screen flickered before it came to life…

And instantly-

I knew something wasn’t right with any of this.

Because the face suddenly staring back at us? It wasn’t one of the usual suits. Not one of the smug, tailored bastards who liked to stand in front of us and pretend they had everything under control…

No.

This was someone new.

A woman…

Sharp.

That was the first word that came to mind.

Everything about her was… precise.

Her brown hair cut into a blunt bob at her jawline, not a single strand out of place. Her suit – grey, pinstriped, fitted perfectly to her frame. Her posture? Straight. Controlled, Cold.

She sat behind a plain desk.

White wall behind her.

No personality.

No warmth.

Just… business.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” she began.

Her voice was calm.

Too calm for what this was…

“I want to formally apologise, as I can only imagine your confusion today…” The room went dead quiet, even the guys who had been muttering seconds before had shut the fuck up now.

Because something in her tone…

It wasn’t reassurance… It was damage control.

And that? That set something off in my gut immediately.

“My name is Lisa Wittacker,” she continued, hands clasped neatly in front of her. “And my role within the project you have all embarked upon… is to offer a contingency plan for when things go south.”

A pause.

Just long enough for it to sink in.

“…which, unfortunately, last night – it did.” A ripple moved through the room, growing uneasy.

I leaned forward slightly in my chair, my jaw tightening.

She was dancing around whatever the incident was… but highlighting its severity nonetheless…

“We understand how invested you all are in the success of this project,” she went on. “And we want to reassure you that our inte the situation is back under control…”

Resume?

My fingers curled slightly against my knee.

Resume meant… Margot will come back… that Margot will return to me… right?

“But…”

There it was.

resume agam as soon as

That sickening word.

That one fucking word that dropped into the room like a loaded gun.

And everything in me went still as I listened…

Because I knew…

I knew that whatever came after that was going to fuck everything up.

“But for now,” she continued, her tone unchanged, “we are placing the project on a temporary pause.”

My jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

What the fuck did that mean exactly?!

“We need to assess the severity of what has occurred,” she said, “address the failures within our system, and ensure that appropriate safeguards are in place before proceeding again.”

Failures…

Safeguards…

She spoke like it was a fucking business error and not real life.

Like wasn’t someone’s death…

My chest tightened.

My thoughts jumped.

Where the fuck would Margot go during this… pause.

“…but when we do resume again,” she added, “it will most likely be with the second wave of female participants who are currently on standby as backups.”

Second wave?!

The words didn’t land straight away.

They echoed and bounced around my head like they didn’t make sense.

Second wave?

What would that mean for my Bella?

No.

No, no, no…

The room started to stir.

Whispers breaking out.

Confusion, then anger.

“What the fuck does that mean?” someone shouted.

“Where are our girls?” another snapped.

“We’re happy with the ones we’ve got!” One more protested.

I didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Because something was building inside me.

Something dark.

Something dangerous.

And then –

She finished it.

“To summarise,” she said, her voice still calm, still clinical, “the first wave of girls in the Prison Project have been removed. The current female volunteers will not be returning.”

My ears rang.

Everything else faded.

“…for their own mental and physical safety.”

Gone?

“…we will review the situation and relaunch the programme with new and improved measures…”

Gone…

“…we apologise that you were unable to have proper goodbyes…”

Gone…

“…we understand bonds may have formed…”

Gone…

“…but this is what is best for all parties involved.”

Gone?!

Margot…

Not coming back?!

The words hit like a fucking sledgehammer to my chest.

My vision tunneled.

Narrowed.

That last look the way she’d looked back at me this morning – fear in her eyes.

Like she didn’t want to leave me….

That was it?! That was the last fucking time I’d see her?!

No!

No fucking way!

The screen went black.

Just like that.

No questions.

No explanations.

No fucking choice!

And then chaos followed.

Leo was on his feet beside me instantly.

“What the fuck is this?!” he roared.

Chairs scraped.

Men surged forward.

Voices exploded.

Anger. Pure, unfiltered rage.

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