'Defying the Odds' - Michael Scofield x Reader // Prison Break Fanfiction

Chapter Three

The yard was buzzing with its usual noise – groups of men huddled together, eyes darting around as deals were made, favours exchanged, and alliances strengthened or broken. Y/N had learned to blend in, moving through the space with calculated ease. But today felt different, something was different. There was a heaviness in the air, an edge that made her skin prickle with unease.

She was walking to the normal corner where she would meet Michael when she noticed the eyes on her. Abruzzi's men – three of them – watching her every move. She'd felt their glares before, but this time was different. This time, they were not just curious. They were planning.

Michael and Y/N made eye contact, but she quickly tucked into a narrow corridor, hoping to avoid them, but her instincts were too late. As soon as she stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind her. The sound echoed ominously in the confined space.

"Going somewhere, sweetheart?" One of the men, a tall, muscular brute with a scar running down his cheek, sneered as he blocked her path. Two more stepped in behind him, closing off any escape. They were Abruzzi's most loyal thugs, each with the dead eyes of men who had seen – and done – terrible things.

"Where I go is none of your business," Y/N shot back, her voice steady, though her pulse quickened. She had been through worse, and she was not about to let these men see her sweat.

"Oh, but it is our business," Scarface said, stepping closer, his breath hot on her face. "We heard the news. New York mob. Murderer...assassin...Sebastian's wife." The name rolled off his tongue with disdain like it was poison. "We don't take kindly to rats from rival families."

Y/N clenched her fists, her mind racing. She had to stay calm. These men would not hesitate to kill her if Abruzzi gave the order, but maybe she could turn this around. "You've got it wrong," she said, her voice measured. "I'm not here for Sebastian. In fact, I want nothing to do with him."

Y/N's words hung in the air, but the men didn't look convinced. Scarface exchanged a glance with the thug to his right, a shorter, stockier man with tattoos crawling up his neck like vines. Their eyes darkened with something far worse than scepticism – bloodlust.

"Nothing to do with him?" the tattooed one mocked. "You think we're stupid? We know exactly who you are. And we know where your loyalties lie."

Y/N took a step back, her mind racing for a way out. She had dealt with thugs like them before, but being trapped in a narrow corridor, outnumbered, was a different game. She could fight but against three? The odds were grim.

"Let's rough her up a little," Scarface said and without warning, his massive hand wrapped around her throat, slamming her back against the cold concrete wall. Y/N gasped, her hands flying up to claw at his grip as the other two closed in.

A shank was at her throat before he slipped it down her shoulder, drawing blood as it slid down her arm going deeper and deeper.

"How tough are you really, Mrs. Sebastian Marino?" he hissed, grip tightening and the knife going deeper.

She could feel the blood dripping down her arm, the pain that shot through her body and she bit down on her lip.

Panic flared in her chest as the walls seemed to close in around her. She thrashed against him, her nails digging into his arm, but his grip was iron. The room started to blur at the edges.

"Let's teach you a little lesson about politics here."

"Let her go!" a deep voice came. She glanced up from looking down at her arm to see an older male with longer hair. "She's with Scofield. Which means she's with me."