Opportunity?
Was this really an opportunity?
Or a trap in prettier packaging?
She studied the man in front of her.
Leon stood straight, the interrogation room’s dim yellow bulb casting uneven shadows across his face, making his features unreadable.
Handsome, but unreadable.
Ashley wasn’t stupid.
She’d spent enough years on the streets to see every kind of man there was.
Greedy men.
Hypocritical men.
Violent men.
None of them were like Leon.
None of them she simply couldn’t see through.
There was no raw desire in his eyes.
No hunger he was trying to hide.
That, more than anything, made her uneasy.
When a man helped a beautiful woman for reasons that had nothing to do with her body, whatever he was actually after had to be worth more.
She was certain of that.
“Why should I trust you?”
She finally spoke, her voice carrying undisguised suspicion.
She pushed herself off the floor and looked him straight in the eye.
“You put me in that position.
The day you decide I’m useless — or I get in your way — will you kick me out without a second thought?
Just like you did with Brenda today?”
“Yes.”
Simple.
Direct.
Not a trace of hesitation.
Ashley had braced for smooth denials and empty promises.
She hadn’t prepared for him to just admit it.
“You’re honest.
That makes me uneasy too.”
“So I need a guarantee.”
“Otherwise this partnership doesn’t happen.”
She took a slow breath, like someone stepping off a ledge.
“A guarantee that makes you think twice before throwing me away.”
She said it again, louder, making sure he heard it.
Leon’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
He leaned back against the edge of the table, crossed his arms, and gave her his full attention.
“Go on.”
“I want you…” Ashley’s voice was steady, her expression calm.
“To sleep with me.”
“And,” she pushed through it, louder now, building her own nerve, “I want the whole thing recorded.”
“The backup stays with me.”
She stared hard at his face, searching for any flicker of uncertainty.
“That way we’re locked together.
You try to throw me away, I hand that footage to the Warden.
To the press.
I destroy your career, your reputation , have you picking up soap in a cell for the rest of your life while the guys behind you take turns, ”
That was the only card she’d been able to think of.
The one chip that might let her sit at the same table as this devil.
Her body.
His future.
One big gamble.
The shock never came.
Neither did the anger.
Not even hesitation.
Leon listened to the whole thing, then laughed.
A slow, mocking laugh.
“Ashley.” He pushed himself off the table and walked toward her.
“Did you misunderstand something?”
The pressure he gave off was formless, but it moved her backward anyway.
Step by step until her back hit cold concrete and there was nowhere left to go.
He raised his hand.
Didn’t touch her.
Just brushed one finger lightly along a strand of blonde hair near her ear.
“You think your body is worth something?”
“Honestly?
I have no interest in damaged goods that half the city’s already been through.”
“You—”
That landed differently than the rest.
Deeper.
Ashley’s head snapped up.
Those blue eyes weren’t just angry , they were on fire.
“How dare you say that to me!”
She shoved him, both hands to his chest.
Her breathing was ragged, tears threatening in the corners of her eyes, but she locked them down hard.
“I’m telling you, Leon — I am a goddamn virgin!”
She practically screamed it.
For the first time, the mockery on Leon’s face went still.
He looked at her.
Flushed.
Trembling.
“You think I wanted this?!”
Her voice cracked, but it wasn’t weakness , it was the sound of someone burning the bridge behind them.
“You think I enjoy playing the whore?
Bargaining with my own body just to get what I need?!”
“If getting out of this hellhole wasn’t on the table, I wouldn’t even look at you!”
“I just thought you were decent-looking enough.
Tolerable.
That’s all!”
Then, as if she needed to prove it , as if she’d been storing up every humiliation from every year before this one , she reached for the waistband of her prison pants.
“You don’t believe me?!”
“You want to know so badly?!”
“Then come check for yourself.
Right here.
Right now!”
Leon had seen women before.
Beautiful ones, even.
But standing in an interrogation room, watching a woman undo her prison uniform to prove her own innocence , that was a first.
Her hand was already at the button.
Her eyes were gone past reckless, past humiliation , into something almost delirious, a kind of wild, fractured defiance.
You want proof?
Here’s proof.
“Enough.”
Leon stepped forward and caught her wrist.
Her skin was cold.
“Get your hands off me!”
She clawed at his arm with her free hand, hammering it with her fist.
“What’s wrong?
Scared?
Scared you can’t control yourself and I’d have something on you?”
“You think I’m scared of that?”
His grip tightened.
“There are cameras in here, you idiot.”
Ashley went still.
The fight didn’t leave her eyes, but her voice dropped into something raw and exhausted.
“Then what do you want from me?
You push me into that position but you won’t give me anything to stand on.
The day you get bored, or I stop being useful, I’m the next Brenda.
That’s it.
That’s where I end up.”
“You want me to bleed for you but you won’t put down a single deposit?”
“That’s not happening, Leon!”
She looked him dead in the eye.
Every bit of energy she had left, pointed straight at him.
“I’m Ashley.
Worthless life, nothing left to lose , I don’t care what happens to me.
But you?
You have a future.
You have something to protect.”
“This deal: you agree, or you don’t.
Those are the only options.”
“If you pass, I’ll find someone else.
Frank’s been staring at my ass since day one.
He’d help me.
I’d be just as protected under him.”
Her last card, face-up on the table.
Leon let go of her wrist.
He hated to admit it.
But this woman had a brain.
Control of C Block wasn’t optional.
It was load-bearing in his whole plan for this place.
He couldn’t afford Frank , or anyone else , getting there first.
Ashley watched the shifting calculations move behind his eyes.
Her own heart was hammering.
This was all she had.
If Leon didn’t take the bait, she had nothing left.
The interrogation room went dead quiet.
“Fine.”
A long silence.
Then just that one word.
Ashley almost convinced herself she’d misheard.
She looked up at him, searching his face.
“What did you say?”
“I said I agree.”
Leon stepped back toward her.
“You want it recorded?
Fine.”
“You want to keep the footage as insurance?
Suit yourself.”
“But.”
He let that word sit for a moment.
“I have my own conditions.”
“What conditions?” Her voice sharpened with suspicion.
“I need to confirm you’re clean.”
His gaze moved over her once, clinical.
“What does that mean?” Ashley frowned, not following.
“I don’t want to make an investment and find out later my asset came with hidden liabilities.”
“HIV.
Hepatitis.
Anything else that travels through blood or bodily fluids.”
Blunt.
Clinical.
Insulting.
But Ashley didn’t get angry this time.
“I don’t have any of that,” she said automatically.
“I told you, I’m, ”
“What you say doesn’t count.” He cut her off.
“I only trust lab reports.”
“I’m drawing your blood.”
He said it slowly, one word at a time, watching her eyes.
“I’ll send the samples to the best outside lab I can access.
Full workup.
Only after I have those results and everything comes back clear does our deal move forward.”
Ashley was quiet.
She stared at him and, despite everything, felt a strange urge to laugh.
This man was cautious to the point of paranoia.
But the stone that had been sitting in her chest since this whole conversation started , it dropped.
A man this careful didn’t throw away his investments carelessly.
His caution was the guarantee she hadn’t been able to ask for directly.
The more careful he was, the safer she was.
“Fine.” She nodded.
“When do you take the blood?”
“Now.”
He turned and walked out.
A few minutes later he came back carrying a metal tray.
Vacuum collection tubes.
Needles.
Alcohol swabs.
A tourniquet , all of it borrowed from the prison infirmary.
Nobody questioned a guard’s reasonable requests in a place like this.
Who knew what guards were doing with needles and inmates anyway.
Happened all the time.
Ashley looked at the needle and swallowed without meaning to.
Leon set the tray down, snapped on latex gloves, and tore open a fresh needle.
“Give me your arm.”
She hesitated, then extended it.
Her skin was pale.
The veins showed clearly underneath.
He wrapped the tourniquet around her upper arm, then cleaned the site with an alcohol swab.
The cold hit first , she flinched before she could stop herself.
“Hold still.”
He pinned her elbow with one hand.
The needle in his other hand found the blue vein.
Ashley closed her eyes.
A brief sting.
Then warmth , her own blood moving slowly through the tube, filling the collection vial one dark increment at a time.
Two tubes.
Done.
He pulled the needle and pressed a cotton ball over the puncture.
“You got lucky I didn’t have to try twice.
First time drawing blood.”
“Hold that.”
“When will the results be back?” Ashley pressed the cotton down and bit her teeth together, trying not to sound anxious.
“A day at most.” Leon glanced at the sample bag.
“I’ll push for a rush.”
He’d need to call in Shane for that.
“Until then, keep your head down.”
He walked to the door.
Glanced back at her once.
Then pulled it open and left without another word.
The interrogation room held only Ashley.
She looked at the small red mark on the inside of her arm where the needle had been.
The bleeding had already stopped.
She laughed.
Then, while she was still laughing, the tears came.
She didn’t know which one she was doing anymore.
Maybe both.
Maybe neither.
She only knew that from today, her life was tied to a man named Leon in a way that couldn’t be undone.
Leon stepped out of the interrogation room and nearly walked into Frank.
The man was holding a coffee cup, and the moment he saw Leon coming out of that door, a wide, knowing grin spread across his face , the kind of look men exchanged when no explanation was needed.
“Nice work, Leon.”
He leaned in, dropping his voice.
“Didn’t take you long.
Already figured out how to use that badge to pull a girl into a private room for some one-on-one supervision?”
He got closer.
“So.
How’d she taste?”
➤ Next: The Pre-Joining Test