Welcome to Hell (by Williane Kassia) novel Chapter 161

11:58 Thu, Feb 12

Welcome to Hell

Chapter 161

Hello, my loves.

I’m back with an update after such a long time.

I wish all of you a very happy New Year. May this year be filled with peace, blessings, and good health for each and every one of you. May your lives be truly blessed.

Now… let’s begin the chapter.

******

Magnus Hale

The metallic sound of the lock breaks the silence of the solitary cell like a clap of thunder. I lift my head as the door creaks open slowly. Howard appears first, followed by Osman. The musty smell of the cell mixes with the cleaner air from the hallway. I inhale deeply, savoring the

false sense of freedom.

I take a firm step forward, passing between the two of them. They follow me in silence.

“Report.” My voice cuts through the air like a blade.

Howard responds without delay.

“Everything under control. No changes. The drugs are untouched; no one dared to move them.”

Osman’s throat–clearing draws my attention. I turn my face, waiting.

“I saw your toy talking to Navarro’s group. The confession comes out slurred, uncomfortable.

I stop slowly, I cast him a heavy look that makes him shrug his shoulders,

“What did he talk about with that son of a bitch?

“I don’t know, sir. I only watched from a distance. But I also noticed he was very close to Guard David… and was even called to the warden’s

office.”

A low laugh escapes, hoarse, vibrating in my throat.

“So… my little angel decided to play while I was away. Daring. Very daring

I resume my pace toward the cafeteria. The noise of voices and cutlery reverberates off the cold walls. As soon as I enter, I notice the difference

in the air.

David is there, surrounded by other guards, all far too attentive. I recognize that type of surveillance.

It’s not for the prisoners.

It’s for me.

O

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11:59 Thu, Feb 12 @ D.

Chapter 161

I slide my gaze over to Navarro, ite stares at me withrent disguise, the weight of his you cold and cobrada

A smile curves on my lips. Excitement rushes through my veins.

My angel moved the pieces on the board.

He didn’t just survive; he dared.

I search for him with my eyes and find him.

He is sitting at my table.

The sight warms my chest with pleasure. His body is rigid, his fists clenched on the table, his knuckles white,

1 smile wider.

The entire hall seems to wait for my reaction.

I walk slowly toward the table. Every eye follows me, Guards alert, Navarro curious. Everyone is waiting for the next move.

If he made deals with guards or entangled himself with Navarro’s group, it matters little. I like playing with the pieces. And when I tire of the game, nothing remains.

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