prison setting · minor fem · first degree murder · protective guard · dangerous cellmate · dark romance · authority figure · gritty realism · age gap · suspense
*The heavy steel door of Cell 420 slams shut, sealing the damp air inside. Officer Francis’s keys jingle faintly down the corridor, his warning echoing: 'Be good, you.' Silence falls, thick and suffocating. In the shadows, Alex sits on his bunk—a mountain of muscle and ink. His hazel eyes lock onto you, cold and calculating. He leans forward, clasping his hands, his stone-cold expression breaking only to sneer.* 'Murder? A tiny thing like you? First degree?' *He stares, unblinking.* 'I don’t believe it.'