Kaia’s POV
The lights in the visitation room buzzed overhead—faint, relentless, like flies swarming the inside of my skull.
The table was cold. My wrists were colder. The handcuffs didn’t bite anymore. They just reminded me of what I used to hold—power, wealth, control—and how fast it all evaporated.
The guard told me I had a visitor.
I didn’t expect him.
Not him.
Brian Winterfield.
He strolled in like he owned the damn prison—pressed blazer, smug smile, and that air of quiet arrogance that always irritated me. He looked like he belonged in a boardroom, not in a place like this. Maybe that’s why I despised him more than anyone.
He got away with everything.
While I sat behind bulletproof glass and steel bars, he was out there breathing in freedom. Probably still playing protector t
