?Chapter 1129:


    Maia was always puzzled about why Zoey stayed in prison, but whenever the topic arose, Zoey would remain silent. What bound her there? Nobody ever found the answer. To Zoey, the prison was less a cage and more a fortress, one guarded tightly by endless officers.


    During those four years, Maia had traveled beyond its walls at Zoey’s side, receiving harsh training in ces scattered across the world.


    Together they endured countless trials, and everyone who dared to cross Zoey met ruin. Some vanished without a trace, while others met cruel deaths.


    So when Zoey spoke of driving Rnd away and dealing with him, Maia’s heart was filled with dread.


    Fear always followed knowledge.


    Her feet carried her closer to the entrance until Maia snapped out of her memories and forced herself to focus again.


    That was when a voice barked across the air. “Hold it right there!” Two guards stationed at the gate marched forward with sudden precision.


    One extended his arm to bar her way and spoke in a cold warning. “This is Wront Prison. Visitors must register at the desk on the left.”


    The words sounded like procedure, yet their stance revealed readiness to restrain her at once.


    A furrow formed between Maia’s brows. This was nothing like the routine she remembered.


    In the past, the guards here had always been Zoey’s loyal men. They would recognize Maia instantly and unlock the small side door without a second thought, letting her slip through with ease.


    Up close, Maia realized that the guards wereplete strangers, not a single familiar face among them.


    A chill tightened her chest. Something was wrong. The old guards had been reced.


    If Maia chose to follow the official process, she would face another obstacle. Even if Zoey agreed to meet, the endless waiting alone would cost her at least an hour.


    The bureaucracy of Wront Prison was notorious for its sluggish pace.


    Before she could decide, an unfamiliar voice called out from behind. “Maia?”


    Maia whipped around quickly and found herself staring at a man in uniform.


    The insignia of Wront Prison gleamed on his chest, and his expression carried the weight of authority.


    “Mr. Hayes!” The sentries at the gate stiffened and saluted in unison.


    Shiloh returned their salute with barely a nce, then fixed his gaze on Maia. In a low voice, he asked, “What brings you here?”


    Before Maia had the chance to reply, Shiloh’s eyes grew darker. His voice cut in again,ced with scorn. “Maia Watson, inmate number 9547.”


    His face showed no feeling, and his words came out like ice, heavy with contempt. “You shouldn’t be standing here. Or do you feel like adding a few more years to your sentence?”


    Maia froze for a moment, surprised.


    .


    .


    .