Residuals (COMPLETED)

Chapter 58: Bryan Smith Pt. 2

Detroit, MI: 

Bryan used the key one of the guards had slipped him to unlock Katrina's cell door. The cold, metallic click echoed in the dimly lit block as he slid it open, the sound swallowed by the eerie stillness of the prison at night. He moved quietly, stepping into the cell like a predator, his eyes never leaving her sleeping form on the bottom bunk. The woman who had once seemed invincible, who had orchestrated the downfall of so many, was now small and vulnerable, curled beneath the thin blanket.

He knelt beside her, his presence hovering like a shadow. Clearing his throat, he waited, enjoying the moment before her peace shattered.

Katrina's eyes flew open, startled. In her panic, she jerked upward and hit her head hard on the bunk above. She groaned in pain, disoriented, before her eyes found Bryan's face. Terror flickered across her features.

"How the fuck did you get in here?" she hissed, her voice low but laced with venom. "Guards!"

Bryan smiled coldly. "No one's coming. No one's here," he replied calmly, almost bored. He stood, his frame towering over her as she scrambled back against the wall. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just wanted you to know that I could."

Katrina's breath hitched. She'd made her empire on fear and manipulation, but now, face to face with Bryan, the tables had turned.

"You're a sitting duck in here," he continued, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "And unlike you, I'm loyal. Every person you sent in here to handle things? They don't fuck with you anymore. They fuck with me."

Her face tightened in a mix of rage and fear, but she stayed silent. Katrina was used to being the one in control, but now she was cornered. She'd made a miscalculation somewhere along the way, and Bryan was here to make her pay for it.

"You're going to die, Katrina," Bryan said, the words cold and final. "I'd do it myself, but my family needs me out there, not in here. But mark my words, by the end of this week? It's over for you."

Katrina's mask cracked, the smallest flicker of desperation showing through. She tried to regain her composure, to play a card she hadn't yet. "Bryan, I never crossed you—"

"Bitch, you did!" Bryan snapped, his calm veneer shattering as fury bubbled up. His voice boomed in the small cell. "You crossed me the second you tried to use me as your pawn. Don't talk to me. You talk to God. You beg for His forgiveness, because you're out of time."

His sudden outburst left her wide-eyed, for once unsure of what to say. Bryan's eyes glinted with something dark, something dangerous, before he let out a low, menacing chuckle. It was a laugh of someone who knew they had already won.

"You're dying, Katrina. Enjoy love," he added, his voice dripping with mockery.

With that, he stood, his frame casting a long shadow over her trembling figure. He slammed the cell door closed with a sharp clang and locked it behind him, his footsteps fading into the prison corridors.