Chapter 2 Prison and Poison

The cold metal bars of the prison cell were nothing compared to the coldness Rosafina felt inside,the brutal fracture of trust, the slow suffocation of hope. Each day blurred into the next, a monotonous grind of hard floors, harsher voices, and endless, endless silence.

But before the cold walls swallowed her whole, the truth had clawed its way to the surface. She remembered everything.

Flashback

Zelda's voice was low and silky, like poison wrapped in velvet. "Colette, darling, you understand what must happen. Rosafina cannot remain a threat. Not with Ethan slipping through our fingers."

Colette's sharp smile was all teeth. "She's too naive, too careless. The empire will be ours, and Ethan will come willingly. Just watch."

Zelda poured two glasses of champagne, her hand steady and sure. "The documents, the accounts, the forged signatures-make sure they're airtight. We'll make her the villain no one can save."

Colette nodded, her eyes glittering with cold ambition. "And Ethan? He's easy to manipulate. The perfect pawn."

---

Back in her cell, Rosafina pressed her forehead against the rough concrete wall. The images of Zelda and Colette's plotting haunted her like ghosts. It wasn't a mistake or coincidence. It was a calculated murder of her reputation, orchestrated by the people she once called family.

The betrayal cut deeper than any prison bars.

Prison was a world Rosafina had never imagined. The sterile luxury of her former life was replaced by grime, cold, and the raw struggle to survive.

The other inmates were wary at first. She was the heiress-the fallen princess-an easy target.

But Rosafina learned quickly.

She learned to watch the shadows in the hallways, to listen for the footsteps that meant danger. She learned that trust was a currency more precious than money and more dangerous than weapons.

One brutal morning, a fight broke out over a spilled cup of coffee. Rosafina found herself shoved to the ground, her cheek burning from a harsh slap.

"Don't be weak, princess," a gruff voice whispered. "You're not in your father's mansion anymore."

It was Mia, a seasoned inmate with sharp eyes and a brutal honesty.

Rosafina met her gaze. "I'm not weak. I'm just... unprepared."

Mia smirked. "Then prepare. Or die."

---

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. The routine became a twisted comfort: wake, eat, clean, endure, survive.

Her innocence peeled away like old skin, layer by painful layer.

Letters from Ethan were a fragile thread that kept her tethered to the world outside. Each envelope was a lifeline-filled with promises, apologies, declarations of love.

But then, the letters stopped.

Weeks passed without a word. The silence gnawed at her like a living thing.

One afternoon, as the gray light filtered through the barred window, a guard slipped a small folded paper under her cell door.

Her hands trembled as she unfolded the note.

Rosafina,

I'm sorry.

I've moved on. I married her.

Ethan.

Colette's name was never written, but it hung in the air like a death sentence.

The world shattered again. Only this time, no one came to pick up the pieces.

Rosafina sat on the cold bunk, the note clutched tight in her fist. The betrayal was complete. The man she loved had chosen her enemy, her betrayer.

Her heart hardened.

---

That night, as the prison lights dimmed, Rosafina made a silent promise.

No more tears. No more hopes.

She would survive.

She would fight.

And she would make them all pay.

Weeks later, Mia approached her with a small vial. "You want to protect yourself? You need this."

Rosafina eyed the vial cautiously. "What is it?"

"A poison. Slow, untraceable. For the right moment."

Her fingers brushed the cold glass, curiosity mingling with fear.

Mia leaned closer, voice low. "Prison is a battlefield. And sometimes, you need to play dirty to stay alive."

Rosafina understood.

She was no longer the naive heiress. She was becoming something else-stronger, sharper, dangerous.

--

Each day she trained herself-mental and physical. Every whispered insult, every shove, every cold glance fueled the fire inside her.

She studied the power dynamics of the prison-who ruled the yards, who whispered secrets, who could be bought or broken.

And slowly, the pieces fell into place.

Rosafina wasn't just surviving.

She was learning to fight.

One evening, as the guards counted heads, Rosafina overheard a conversation between two inmates.

"Did you hear? The Langston wedding was last week."

She forced herself to remain calm as one woman continued.

"Yeah, Ethan and Colette. Just like that. He didn't even send a word to Rosafina."

Another voice sneered, "She deserved it. A rich girl with a soft heart. Easy to take down."

Rosafina's fists clenched. They didn't know the half of it.

"Quit saying things you know nothing about,you don't know me nor my family." She spat angrily.

The inmates formed a circle around her and the lady who spoke about her Mia watched from a distance but within earshot.

The lady laughed and shook her head. "You really want to pick a fight over a family who abandoned you? When was the last time you received a visitor?"

"That's non of your business and I suggest you stay out of mine."

"Or what?" The lady asked, laughing. She was clearly enjoying it.

Just then a warden walked in and immediately they all separated and walked to their various beds.

In the cold darkness of her cell, Rosafina whispered a final vow to the shadows.

I will rise. And when I do, no one will escape my wrath.