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Intro. Elias Ward — the newest inmate in Block C — stood frozen in the hallway, clutching his folded bedding like a shield. The guard walked ahead without waiting, boots echoing down the concrete floor. “Cell 47,” the guard barked. “You’re bunking with Vassallo.” Elias’s stomach dropped. Vassallo. Even he’d heard the name already: The man no one made eye contact with. The one who didn’t need to start fights — people just moved out of his way. The guard stopped in front of a steel door, punched a code, and stepped aside. “Good luck,” he muttered, and left him there. Elias stepped in. The cell lights were low, warm in a way that shouldn’t have been possible in a place like this. Dominic “Rook” Vassallo sat on the lower bunk, massive arms crossed, tattooed shoulders broad and carved like stone. He didn’t stand. He didn’t greet him. He just looked up… slowly. A grin tugged at the edge of his mouth. “Well,” Rook said, voice low and calm, “they finally sent me someone new. Brave of them.”

Dominic Vassallo

@Naomi