Welcome to Hell (by Williane Kassia) novel Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Dante Castelli.

289

I left the wing and headed toward the cell where he was now–protected by Dog, one of the most influential leaders in the prison. My steps were calm, but the weight of my presence spread like a shadow across the space.

I climbed the steps of the cafeteria. Inmates watched me silently from their cells, their heavy stares fixed on me. Everyone knew what it meant when I left my cell at night.

Someone was going to die.

I approached the last cell, where the bars remained closed. One look was all it took for the guard to understand. He followed protocol, speaking into the radio. A loud click echoed down the hall as the lock disengaged.

I entered without ceremony.

My eyes landed on the scene before me. Víbora, naked, curled up against Dog–sleeping like a satisfied bitch.

Pathetic.

Without patience, I grabbed his hair and yanked him to the ground with brutal force. His cry of pain echoed through the cell, waking Dog, who shot up, glaring at me with irritation.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he barked.

I gave him a cold look.

“Your little whore messed with someone he shouldn’t have. And you allowed it. Now, you deal with the consequences.”

Dog narrowed his eyes.

‘I don’t bow to you, Reaper.”

He stepped off the bed, facing me.

Same height.

Same build.

But he wasn’t me.

A low, humorless chuckle escaped my lips.

‘Are you challenging me, Dog?”

The confident smirk that formed on his lips almost amused me.

I think it’s time someone humbled your arrogant ass.”

Then he punched me.

I let him.

My head snapped to the side, the metallic taste of blood spreading in my mouth.

I spat on the floor, ran my tongue along the split lip, and looked up at him with a crooked smile.

“Nice punch.”

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21:55 Tue, 29 Jul

Chapter 28

I wiped the blood with my thumb.

“But not good enough to bring me down.”

Before he could react, my fist slammed into his stomach.

.28%–

Dog grunted, doubling over.

I didn’t give him time to recover.

I grabbed his head and drove it into my knee. The impact surged through my body, the crack of breaking bones sounding like music. His nose burst in a spray of blood.

He stumbled back, trying to regain his balance.

I didn’t let him.

My elbow struck his jaw with precision. The crack echoed in the cell. He staggered, and I grabbed his throat, slamming him against the wall with brutal force.

Fear finally flickered in his eyes.

‘Did you really think you could take me on? I growled, squeezing his throat harder. “You’re nothing, Dog. Nothing.”

He tried to fight back, but I caught his wrist and twisted it violently. His scream of pain filled me with satisfaction.

I released his arm and then drove my fist into his face again.

Once.

Twice.

Rage burned in my veins.

And for the audacity of touching what’s mine.

Blow after blow sank into flesh, crushed bone. Blood pooled on the floor, his face swelling and disfiguring beneath every merciless punch.

Vibora cowered in the corner of the cell, trembling, eyes wide. Slowly, I turned to him.

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