Chapter 55 Chapter 54

Chapter 55 Chapter 54
Archer.

Years rotting in prison had changed me. The first week tasted like hell. I’d heard the rumors—living with real criminals wouldn’t be easy, and they were right.

The moment they found out my sentence had been reduced to ten years, it became a game of survival.

They didn’t like it. They didn’t like me.

I was always trapped in some dark, secluded corner. The punches came in waves, followed by bruises so deep they felt permanent. My body almost gave out after my regular trips in and out of the prison clinic. That was the first few weeks, though—back when I still cared about my fate.

But now? Now they treated me like a king.

After I killed their Alpha in a duel, no one dared to touch me. Respect came swift, like blood flowing from a fresh wound.

No one visited me, though. Not once. Trial after trial, I waited, hoping—maybe—Alpha Steven or Damien would come, give me a chance to break their faces, even for a moment. Just once.

So when the guard stopped by, face hidden under his robe, and muttered, “You’ve got a visitor, Damien,” my heart raced.

Visitor? I hadn’t heard that word in so long it felt foreign on my tongue.

I left my cell and walked through the cold, narrow corridors of the prison. The walls were gray and rough, almost as if they too were scarred by the endless violence within them.

Faint light flickered from a few overhead bulbs, casting harsh shadows that made everything feel smaller, more suffocating. The air smelled of sweat and rot, a constant reminder of the lives trapped here.

When I reached the visiting room, I halted, my breath catching in my throat.

Katrina.

I barely recognized her. The girl I once knew was gone, replaced by a woman whose presence filled the room, commanding attention. 

Her long hair, once flowing like a waterfall down her back, had been cut to just below her shoulders, straight and sharp, a symbol of the battles she’d fought in my absence. 

Her eyes, darker now, held a fierceness I hadn’t seen before—a mix of anger, sadness, and something else I couldn’t quite name.

Her brows furrowed as she flipped through the pages on the desk in front of her, every movement precise, deliberate. 

I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she held herself as if constantly bracing for impact.

“You’ve got fifteen minutes,” the guard muttered from behind me.

Katrina’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing in determination. She stood, the chair scraping loudly against the cold, tiled floor.

Then, her lips parted in a whisper, barely audible but heavy with emotion. “A-Archer…”

Her heels clicked with each step, echoing powerfully in the quiet room as she walked toward me. Each sound hammered into my chest, knocking the air out of me. 

I froze, unable to move, still trying to grasp the fact that she was here. After all this time.

My Katrina.

I have been thinking of her every day. Every fucking day, I think about her. I think about whether she’s married now, but looking at her ring finger, there’s no ring. That would’ve crushed me if she’s engaged or married now. 

“You knew?” My voice barely broke through the tension in the air, a whisper tangled in disbelief.

“I just found out recently,” Katrina replied softly, her voice trembling as if she was afraid of the words that had escaped her lips.

“Get out of here.” The words tasted bitter in my mouth, but they needed to be said.

“Why?” Her voice cracked, but there was a stubborn edge beneath it.

“I said, get out of here!” The anger surged, the walls around me closing in, suffocating. I couldn’t do this, not with her. Not now.

But she didn’t move. She stood there, staring at me with those damn eyes—full of hurt, full of memories I couldn’t escape. “No, I won’t!” she shot back, her voice fierce. “After all they’ve done to you! Please, Archer… let me talk to you. I missed you so much.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, harder than any blow I’d taken in here. She was crying now, her breath ragged as she continued, “You didn’t show up for our date that night. You didn’t meet me in our place! I waited for you, for hours, soaking in the rain!” Her voice broke, the weight of her pain crashing over me like a tidal wave.

I clenched my fists, trying to steady the storm inside me. “Please, get out of here, Katrina…”

Her eyes searched mine, desperate. “Did they blackmail you? Did they threaten to kill me if you talked to the authorities?”

I said nothing. I couldn’t. The silence between us spoke louder than any confession ever could.

Katrina wiped the tears from her cheeks, her hands trembling. She grabbed her things, but before leaving, she paused, her voice steadier now. “Don’t worry. I’m here to speed up your prison time.” She swallowed, her gaze locking with mine. “I’m going to be your new attorney in charge.”

I stared at her, my heart hammering in my chest. “What?! Have you lost your mind?!”

“No.” Her voice was firm now, her determination clear. “I’m getting you out of here. Then, we’ll file a case of identity theft, fraud—everything against the Smiths.”

“Katrina, stop!” I took a step toward her, panic rising. “You’re risking your life! This isn’t some game—”

“Yes! I know that!” She cut me off, her voice rising in frustration. “I’m risking my life here, and for what? For someone’s son who doesn’t even appreciate it!”

I flinched at her words.

Damn. Katrina still had that fire, that feisty vibe that always made it impossible to argue with her. My chest tightened, a mix of frustration and admiration swirling inside me.

She hadn’t changed, not really. Not in the ways that mattered.

I bit my lower lip, the weight of everything we’d been through crashing down.

My hand found her cheek, my fingers grazing her soft skin. “Damn… I miss you,” I muttered, my voice rough, as if the words themselves had been locked away for too long.

Her eyes softened, her lips parting just slightly, like she wasn’t sure whether to yell at me again or let it go. But I didn’t give her time to decide.

I leaned in, our foreheads touching for just a moment, letting her scent, her warmth, pull me back to life.

She tilted her head up, her breath catching. “I found a way,” she whispered, her voice low but filled with that fierce determination that made my pulse quicken. “I’ll get you out. We’ll turn the tables on the Smiths. I can only do that if you cooperate with me, Archer.”

Her words felt like salvation, a lifeline in the darkness I’d been drowning in. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, not trusting the surge of emotion in my chest.

And then, without thinking, I closed the gap between us and kissed her.

It wasn’t soft or slow. It was desperate, raw—like every second we’d spent apart was burning us alive, and this was the only way to cool the fire.

She melted into me, her arms wrapping around my neck, pulling me closer, like she never wanted to let go. I didn’t want to let go either.

For a moment, nothing else mattered. Not the prison walls, not the courtroom, not the Smiths. Just her—us—and the promise that maybe, just maybe, there was a way out of this.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us breathless, Katrina rested her forehead against mine. “Trust me,” she whispered. “We’re going to win this.”

I nodded, still dazed, and let her words sink in.

She’d always been the one with the plans, the one with the answers, and I had no choice but to believe her. Because without her, I had nothing.

I went back to my cell that night with a smile on my face.

For the first time in years, I felt a flicker of hope, like something might actually change. And it wasn’t just about getting out. It was about her—about us finding our way back to each other after all the wreckage.

The next day, they called me into the courtroom.

My heart pounded in my chest, anticipation and nerves running wild. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but when I walked in and saw Katrina sitting at the attorney’s table, my breath caught in my throat.

She looked calm, composed, a force to be reckoned with. Her dark hair was pulled back, and she wore a sharp, tailored suit that made her look every bit the part of a fierce lawyer ready to tear down anyone in her way.

She glanced up at me, her eyes locking with mine for a brief second, and I knew… she had this.

I smiled at her. She return back my smile and nodded at me.

As the proceedings began, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She commanded the room with every word, every argument, flipping the case on its head. 

I never expected her to be this good. But watching her now, there was no doubt—Katrina wasn’t just doing well.

She was dominating.

I knew she's going to be a good lawyer.

The judge struck the gavel and declared, "After careful consideration of the evidence and the arguments presented, this court finds sufficient grounds to modify the defendant's sentence. The original term of imprisonment is hereby reduced to six months. With time already served, the defendant will be eligible for parole in one week."