Chapter 2


    The massive, chilling central prison housed only the most wicked and ill inmates. Upon entering the


    lobby, I insisted on seeing my uncle. Permission was granted, and I happily embraced him, as he had


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    been a father figure to me.


    "Good morning, Uncle Vernon."


    "Good morning, my dear. Have a seat."


    We both sat down.


    "So, tell me, you brought your student pass, meaning you''re here for an assignment. What did they ask


    of you this time? To interview me? I''m all ears."


    Uncertain of where to begin, I stared at him.


    "Um, actually, I''m not here for you."


    "Then who? One of the prisoners?" he asked.


    "Yes."


    "Well, that could pose a problem. I''m not supposed to allow it, but since you''re my niece and I want you


    to excel, who would you like to interview among these individuals?"


    Taking a deep breath, I dropped the bomb.


    "Antonio. Antonio Caruso," I revealed, witnessing an immediate change in my uncle''s expression.


    Disbelief filled his widened eyes, and he grew pale.


    "Excuse me?" he asked, shocked.


    "Uncle Vernon, please. I have to"


    "Not happening, Donnica. No. Do you realize what you''re asking of me?"


    "Yes, Uncle. Please! Remember how you mentioned wanting me to achieve great things-"


    "I take back what I said. Antonio Caruso? No, no, no."


    "Uncle Vernon, I''m begging you..."


    "I have already said no!" he dered firmly. "Pick someone else."


    Persistently, I pleaded with him, refusing to leave his office until he granted me the chance to see and


    speak with Antonio. Eventually, my persistence paid off, and my uncle relented.


    "Fine. Riggs! Tom! Come in here, please!" he called, and two armed guards entered.


    "Yes, sir."


    "Prepare Caruso. She wants to interview him."


    The guards appeared astonished.


    "B-but, sir-"


    "Do as I say. Get the chains or whatever."


    ‘Chains??’


    The prison guards simply nodded and turned to leave.


    "Wait, let me apany you," I insisted, rising from my seat. My uncle nced at me. "I want to see


    his cell and provide a description for my article."


    "I can''t believe I''m allowing this. You''ll have five minutes with him," my uncle reluctantly concluded


    before permitting me to follow the guards.


    *


    I was led to the area where the cells were located. As we walked through the corridor, I saw menacing-


    looking men. Some shouted suggestive remarks from their cells.


    "Honey, paying me a visit?" one taunted, provokingughter from the others. Some even attempted to


    provoke the officers.


    The majority were far from attractive, sporting shaved heads, bulging muscles, and tattoos and


    piercings adorning their bodies. They frightened me, and my mind conjured up images of the crimes


    they must havemitted based on their appearance.


    This made me wonder how Antonio looked. If he resembled any of these men, how would I be able to


    meet his gaze?


    We arrived at an isted section of the prison, where I noticed an iron door with a small peephole at


    the end of the corridor. My heart skipped a beat.


    Reaching the door, I inquired, "Is this his cell?"


    The guards simply nodded. How dangerous was he that they had to confine him to a dark, enclosed


    iron room?


    One of the guards opened the peephole''s lock and peered into the cell.


    "We''re opening the door, so behave yourself, Caruso," the guard nervously warned.


    Stepping back as they began to unlock the door, I was apanied by four guards. Three were


    armed, while the fourth held a bundle of heavy chains.


    The door was unlocked and swung wide open. The three guards immediately aimed their guns inside.


    Light from the hallway spilled into the dark cell, and I eagerly looked inside.


    To my surprise, I saw a young man. I could deduce from the side of his face, as he sat quietly on the


    cold floor with his head bowed. He had jet-ck hair, and I noticed a tattoo-like marking on the back of


    his neck. His eyes were closed, as if in deep thought or meditation. He was the youngest prisoner I had


    encountered so far.


    ''No. This can not be him. Can it?''


    I tapped one of the guards on the shoulder, and he turned to me.


    "Um, I mentioned Antonio Caruso. I want to interview Antonio Caruso," I specified.


    "Yes, miss. This is Caruso."


    ''What?''


    I froze, my eyes widening to the point of difort. I couldn''t utter a word. Confusion overwhelmed


    me.


    "Antonio, stand up and approach us slowly. No tricks," one of the guards warned, their guns pointed at


    him.


    The young man in the cell rose slowly. I noticed chains on his feet and wrists. He turned and


    approached the door, stepping into the light, and that was when I saw his face. My jaw nearly dropped


    in disbelief.


    He was incredibly handsome. Remarkably so, I would dare to say. He couldn''t be older than fifty. Was


    this some kind of joke?


    His skin had a beautiful sun-kissed glow, and his lips were quite attractive. His eyes were a captivating


    blend of light gray and sky blue. He appeared nothing like the rumors I had heard. He was


    astonishingly good-looking.


    As soon as he was fully outside the cell, all guns were aimed at his head, as the fourth officer added


    additional chains to his limbs.


    I stared with a mix of disbelief, wonder, and fear.


    ''This was entirely unexpected.''


    Silently, he was guided down the corridor with utmost care. Not once did he raise his gaze, a fact that


    suited me just fine. I took out my notebook and diligently wrote down everything I had witnessed.


    ‘I''m about to gain my honors, no doubt. This is going to be captivating.’


    I followed behind them until we reached a dimly lit interrogation room, its walls made of iron. In the


    center stood a single table, with two chairs on either side. A single, brightmp illuminated the table


    and room, directed towards the already seated and bound Anthonio.


    Curiosity got the better of me, and I asked why the guards had set up the room in such a manner. They


    exined that it was to obstruct his view and divert his attention away from my face, while


    simultaneously monitoring his every reaction and movement. Though it seemed illogical to me, I


    assumed it was part of their standard protocol.


    "May I have a moment alone with him?" I dared to ask, causing the guards to look at me in disbelief.


    "No," stated the leader.


    "I need him to feel at ease enough to answer a few questions. Please. Besides, what harm could he


    possibly do? He''s securely tied up."


    After much reluctance on their part, I managed to persuade them to give me privacy with him, while


    they observed from outside.


    Once we were alone, I cleared my throat and took a seat. The bright light from themp illuminated his


    face, yet surprisingly, it didn''t seem to faze him. It didn''t hinder his vision one bit as he stared straight at


    me.


    "Good morning, Mr. Caruso."