“What did you say?”
“Frank is dead!”
Ashley’s voice crackled through the phone.
“In the public restroom between Block B and Block C.
Someone stabbed a sharpened mop handle straight through the back of his heart.”
“They just found the body.
The whole prison’s locked down.
Kevin and his crew are going cell to cell.”
Leon hung up.
He moved fast, back to the prison.
The guards outside were already running drills , armed, tense, barking at each other under the lockdown order.
He watched them without expression.
Frank was dead.
That greedy, lecherous, spineless old operator.
The kind of man who shook hands with everyone and trusted no one, until someone decided he wasn’t worth keeping around.
Leon didn’t spare him a single thought of sympathy.
Who did it?
Who benefits most?
Frank was his colleague.
His regular beat was Block B and Block C.
With him gone, the security presence in Block B would drop , fast, and for a while.
Block B was Marcus’s territory.
The man’s face surfaced in Leon’s mind.
That arrogant smirk.
That untouchable air.
Interesting.
Leon didn’t bother with the crime scene.
He went straight to Block B.
The iron gate was sealed.
Two guards stood in front of it, shoulders tight, eyes scanning.
“Leon?” One of them recognized him.
“What are you doing here?
It’s locked down.”
Leon raised his baton slightly.
“Warden asked me to assist with the investigation.”
Clean reason.
No cracks.
The guard hesitated, then swung the heavy gate open.
The moment Leon stepped through, the air changed.
Block B had a different weight to it , heavier, denser.
It smelled like male aggression and old violence baked into the walls.
The corridor was empty.
Every inmate had been locked back in their cell.
But they were watching.
Leon could feel it.
Eyes pressed against narrow observation windows, tracking him as he walked.
He went straight to the back.
Cleaner, too.
Marcus wasn’t clutching the bars like the rest of them.
He was leaning back against his headboard, legs stretched out, completely at ease.
One of his men crouched on the floor in front of him, carefully buffing a pair of expensive sneakers with a cloth.
Slow, deliberate strokes.
He didn’t look like a prisoner.
He looked like a king resting in his own hall.
When Leon stopped in front of the cell, Marcus didn’t bother lifting his eyes.
He let out a single contemptuous sound through his nose.
“Well, well.
Our big hero.
Officer Leon.” He still didn’t look up.
“What’s the matter — getting tired of servicing those Block C bitches?
Came over here looking for something different?”
Leon didn’t take the bait.
He just watched him, calm.
“Frank is dead.”
Marcus shrugged.
“Is that so.” He tilted his head up, face arranged in exaggerated grief.
“That’s terrible news.
I really liked that old bastard.
He always got me the best Cuban cigars.
Purest ones you could find.”
“Did you kill him?” Leon asked.
“Officer.” Marcus clicked his tongue, then broke into a wide grin.
“You can’t just throw around accusations like that.
I’m a law-abiding citizen.
Murder?” He spread his hands.
“I’ve never even killed a chicken.”
Muffled laughter rippled through the cell.
Leon knew this line of questioning was a dead end.
He let it go.
“Marcus.
Let’s make a deal.”
That landed differently.
Marcus paused, then threw his head back and laughed , the kind of laugh that said he’d heard something genuinely absurd.
“A deal.” He repeated it like he was tasting it.
“Am I hearing you right?
You screwed me over last time.
Had me handle that idiot Thomas, and walked away clean.” He stopped laughing.
“And now you want to sit here and talk deals with me?”
His expression settled into contempt.
“On what grounds?”
He wasn’t completely stupid.
He’d clearly figured out he’d been played for a pawn.
“Because I can make you the only king in this prison.”
“Block C is mine.
Ashley follows my lead.
Block B is yours — those men in here don’t answer to anyone but you.
We work together, I run supplies to you, and whatever we pull from the inmates’ families on the outside, we split it down the middle.”
He held Marcus’s eyes as he laid it out.
It was the kind of offer no ambitious man should be able to walk away from.
Inside these walls, everything had a price.
No money, no connections on the outside , you got nothing.
That was just reality.
Marcus listened to every word.
Then he exploded into laughter.
He doubled over, howling, tears pressing at the corners of his eyes.
“Leon, Leon…” He caught his breath, shaking his head.
“You’ve been in Block C so long your brain’s gone soft.
You sound just like those women over there.
Naive as hell.”
He stood up in one motion and walked to the cell door, closing the distance until only the iron bars separated them.
He had a full head of height on Leon, and he used every inch of it.
“The only king?”
He leaned in close to the bars, dropping his voice to something low and mocking.
“I already am.”
He looked Leon up and down like he was examining something that had crawled out from under a rock.
“Your little schemes?
Sure, they work fine in Block C.
Nice little games for a nice little yard.” His voice hardened.
“But this is Block B.
We deal in muscle and fists here.”
“I don’t need you, Leon.”
Flat.
Final.
“Pack up your games and go back to Block C.
Go smell your girls’ perfume.
Don’t come back here bothering me.”
He left the last part unfinished.
But the look in his eyes finished it for him.
Leon studied him for a moment.
No anger.
No argument.
He gave a single nod, turned around, and walked away without looking back.
One of Marcus’s men drifted close as Leon disappeared through the corridor.
“Boss.
You sure we’re just letting him walk?
Something’s off about that guy.”
Marcus snorted and dropped back onto his bunk — back onto his throne.
“Off?” He glanced at the door.
“Doesn’t matter how clever he thinks he is.
Can he be cleverer than a bullet?”
➤ Next: The Backer Behind the Scenes