Chapter 51
Calvin leaned back in his chair, sipping from a teacup as the grainy black-and-white prison monitors flickered in front of him. His eyes, sharp beneath his fedora, were fixed on one particular feed. Cell Block D. Sasha. And Quinn. Calvin raised a brow as he watched Quinn storm in, the guards leering at Sasha like a pack of wolves. Then Quinn did something Calvin never expected—he grabbed Sasha by the back of her hair, kissed her like a man claiming something, then dragged her out like he owned her. “Well I’ll be damned…” Calvin muttered. Gary squinted at the screen beside him. “Did he just—?” “Yep,” Calvin said, placing his teacup down. “Didn’t think the boy had that kind of heat in him.” Across the room, Petra lounged on a bench, legs stretched, lazily tossing a serrated blade into
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