The prisoner’s Revenge

Release Dahlia’s POV. "D? You seem so quiet,what you thinking of girl." Nyx was leaning onto the bars with that lazy grin, almost untouchable. “I’m just…I don’t even know what’s going on with me.” I managed to reply. She let out a small sigh. "Five years for m*******a possession—you are walking out in one piece. Whereas me? They nearly buried me in here for that gun." Playful were her words, but when she looked at me, it was with softer eyes. "Don't remind me," I mumbled, rubbing my palms against my thighs. "You nervous?" "Terrified," I admitted. Nyx let out a short laugh. "Good. It proves you're still human. Don't let this place take that away from you." I glanced at her. "Do you have family waiting?" "Nah. Just my manager and my driver, papa's out of the country so he sent a driver. He will be happy to parade me for the cameras and remind the world Nyx Carter tha rapper is untouchable." She tilted her head at me. "What about you? Adrian showing up with roses? Elias holding a sign?" I felt my stomach clenching inside. I hated how her words hit at that soft spot I had been guarding for so long. "He said he'd come. Said he’d wait for me," I whispered. "He promised." "It's been three years since his last visit, D." She sounded quite blunt but not unkind. "Men who love don't just disappear like that." I set my jaw. "He had to take care of Elias. Maybe he thought it was wrong bringing our son to see a prisoner." Nyx was silent, and the silence between us spoke volumes. The guard's voice broke in. "Graves. Carter. Step forward." We walked side by side down the length of the hall, out of habit. At the front desk, a small plastic bag containing my possessions was handed to me: my wedding ring and my phone. I carefully tucked it into my pocket. Fresh air hit me first outside—almost too fresh. The sky appeared wider than I remembered, and the world seemed so loud. Families clustered by the gates. Children screamed with joy, and women cried into waiting arms. I scanned the crowd over, with my heart racing. No Adrian. No Seraphina. No Elias. No one. This should have stopped bothering me. Yet the pain felt deeper than I was ready to deal with. Nyx blew a slow whistle. "Guess your ride's running late." I attempted a laugh, but only managed a brittle sound. "He must've got caught up." She rolled her eyes. "Please, look. I am not leaving you stranded. I will have my driver drop you home, and he can come back for me. I am going to sit here and wait. There is no way Dahlia Graves, will walk out of here on foot." My eyes filled with tears. "Nyx, you don't have to—" "I do." She squeezed my shoulder. "If the roles were reversed, you would do it for me. Don't argue with me. Anyway, my manager is not here yet. So win-win for us." Her driver emerged from the car, a black sedan gleaming in the sunlight. She squeezed me tightly and smelled of cigarettes and hair oil. "Don't forget, keep your head up, D. You survived hell. Don't let the outside break you now. Tell Elias his newest and coolest aunt said hi!” I giggled, too choked up to argue, slide into the backseat, and give the driver my address. While the car pulled away, I stole a look at her in the rearview mirror as she gave way, to another car pulling up in front of her. "Guess her manager is here," I said, snickering. The path spread before me. Head now pressed against the glass, I tried taking in the ever-vanishing blur of streets, but the same faces strung along in a loop. Adrian. Elias, making it hard for me to arrange my thoughts. Five years of silence. Five years of dreaming of that reunion. I dreamt of Elias running into my arms, taller but still my baby boy. Adrian holding me tight, whispering that it made it all worthwhile. Seraphina smiling behind them, perhaps holding a cake. It had kept me alive within the walls. Now, with each second taking me closer toward the mansion, the dream seemed to disappear. When the long driveway appeared, my chest tightened. Home. The house we poured our money and love into, my claimed shrine. The guards on the gate, however, decided to do otherwise. One of them approached us, unblinking. "She is not allowed inside." I leaned forward, incredulous. "What do you mean? This is my house." "Direct orders," the guard replied. "From who?" "The boss." That word was a slap. "You mean Adrian," I snapped. "My husband." The guard didn't flinch. "He said you are not to enter." The blood was hammering through my ears. "That's not possible! Tell him I'm here. Tell him Dahlia is home." They stared at me as though I were an intruder off the street. An awful self-consciousness crept over me. After all that I had sacrificed, after five years rotting behind bars, this is how I was welcomed back? Before I could scream again, headlights cut in through the gate. A sleek silver carriage came, familiar down to the plates. Adrian's. A surge of relief follows an avalanche of anger. "Adrian!" I called, flinging the car door open and stumbling out. My shoes crunched loudly on gravel as I waved. "Adrian, it's me!" The car slowed. The tinted window slid down, and there he was—Adrian Cross, the only man I'd ever loved. Gray hair, sharp suit, but it was all the same face I knew too well. His eyes flicked once over me. No recognition, No warmth, Nothing. “"Adrian!" I screamed, my throat sore. "It is me, Dahlia!" The car was edging forward as if he hadn't heard. He was going to drive past me, into our home, and leave me behind at the gate. Something within me snapped. I pushed through the guards when the gates opened and stumbled into his car, slamming my hand on the hood. "Stop!" The brakes screeched. I pulled the passenger door open, desperate to see his face, to force him to look at me. Seraphina sat there, as radiant as ever, her golden hair glowing in the dull light of the dashboard. Her hand rested protectively on her swollen belly. Pregnant. I recoiled, bile rising in my throat. "What...what the hell is this?" Neither of them spoke. “Why didn’t you visit me, Adrian?” My voice trembled while tears blurred my vision. “Why didn’t you send a ride? Why would you tell the guards to keep me out of my own house? And you,” I turned on Seraphina, the woman I had trusted with every secret, every dream, “You’re pregnant? Whose baby is this?” The muscles in Adrian’s jaw were tightly clenched. Seraphina’s smile faltered. Whatever silence lapsed between them spoke of everything I didn’t want to hear. "Answer me!" My scream shattered the quiet night. "What is happening?!"