Chapter 132

Margot’s POV

The room was bursting at the seams.

Every inch of the hall was filled with bodies—inmates, volunteers, guards—lining the walls like soldiers waiting for something to explode.

The air itself seemed to sizzle with tension, thick enough to taste…

The suited men stood on the small raised stage at the front, sharp dark jackets, their polished shoes clicking smugly across the wooden floor. They carried themselves like kings looking down on their subjects – confident, arrogant, and far too comfortable with the power they held in this room.

“Now, we know most of you aren’t going to like this…” one began, voice smooth and commanding, “but it was, of course, expected that this would be a difficult project to pass.”

Their smirks didn’t fade as they scanned the crowd, feeding off the discomfort that rippled through it.

I shifted in my seat, nerves crawling up my spine, inching just a little closer to Coban. His thigh brushed against mine, and though he didn’t move to take my hand, his steady presence beside me was enough to keep me from breakdown.

“The purpose of this challenge,” the second suit continued, “is to push you all to your limits. After week one, bonds have been built already and we presume most of you are comfortable by now? Settled into your routines?”

A low murmur spread through the hall with agreement from some, distrust from others.

Comfortable?

It didn’t seem like the right word to use…

“So,” the man went on, his grin widening just slightly, “we have to switch things up a little. At least for a week or two.”

I frowned, my stomach knotting as I waited for the rest, but Coban got there first.

“Fucking spit it out,” he muttered under his breath, loud enough that a few heads turned.

“Coban,” I whispered sharply, nudging his arm, trying to quiet him before he drew the wrong kind of attention.

He shot me a look that made my chest tighten—it was sharp, frustrated, protective. But he didn’t say anything else.

The shorter suit leaned forward into the microphone, his tone falsely sweet. “This challenge will be known as The Mix–Up. Everyone will be reassigned to someone else for this week, before returning to their partners at some point next week.”

For a moment, there was nothing.

Just silence.

Before suddenly—chaos.

Chairs screeched back. Voices rose.

“Fuck that!”

“Not a chance!”

“That won’t be fucking happening!”

“Bunch of pigs!”

The room erupted.

My heart slammed into my chest as men stood up, some shouting, some pacing, all angry. I could feel the energy shift from disbelief to pure fury within seconds.

I shrank back in my seat, gripping the edge of it as the guards along the walls straightened, hands hovering near their batons. I searched the crowd desperately for Cara, but all I saw were flashes of prison uniforms and flailing arms.

The noise was deafening—a storm of outrage and disbelief that rattled the entire hall.

Up front, the suits remained still. Calm. Like they’d wanted this reaction from them. Expected it.

“Now, now…” the tall one called out, his voice cutting clean through the chaos thanks to the microphone. “This challenge was designed to cause some upset. It’s meant to test you all. Only the strongest of minds will remain in the project by the end of it.”

His words only fueled the shouting further.

Coban’s voice joined the noise, deep and furious beside me. “This is a fucking joke!”

“Coban, what will we do?” I pulled at his nearest arm in a panic.

“I’ll sort it out,” he hissed down at me, his tone sharp but not aimed at me. His jaw was locked, hands clenched tight at his sides.

I could see the fury rippling off him in waves—not fear, not frustration, but something darker. Something territorial.

Because the thought of me being assigned to someone else, even for only a week – had his entire body wound like a spring.

Truth be told, the thought terrified me too…

I’d grown used to Coban’s moods, his quiet and his rage. I’d learned the rules – what to say, what not to. I’d learned to trust him, maybe even depend on him.

The idea of being paired with someone else, someone unpredictable, dangerous, unfamiliar… made my throat dry up completely.

“Do we at least get to decide who they go to?” someone shouted from the front, his voice dripping with hope.

A ripple of approval spread across the room, inmates nodding, calling out, some even whistling in agreement. At least that would make sense. At least then, Coban could send me to Leo, and he could take Cara?

But that hope died the moment the suit spoke again.

“No,” he said flatly. “Unfortunately not.”

The mood shifted again, darker this time.

“Listen up!” he barked over the rising noise. “On the outside world, you won’t be able to control everything that happens to you. Sometimes things will happen that you don’t like or enjoy, but you need to learn that violence will only land you back here.”

So that was their reasoning.

Their excuse.

They wanted to see how far they could push them – how far they could push Coban.

The words barely left his mouth before the booing started. The guards immediately surged forward, shouting for calm, their weapons visible now.

“This challenge will begin tonight,” the taller suit continued, raising his voice to compete with the chaos. “You will each be escorted to your new cells. Ladies, if you have any issues at all, please report to the nearest guard.”

That was it.

That was the moment they officially lit the fuse.

Because by the time the men turned for the back door, the entire room was on its feet – yelling, swearing, throwing anything they could grab.

Coban rose beside me, his face carved from stone, every line of his jaw tight with barely contained rage.

I grabbed his arm instinctively, terrified he’d launch himself at the guards. “Coban, please don’t…”

He didn’t answer, his glare fixed on the stage as the suits disappeared through the side exit like cowards.

All I could hear were shouts. Chairs clattering. The sound of boots as guards began to shove people back toward the doors.

“Back to your blocks!” one bellowed, swinging his baton against the wall for attention. “Everyone back! Now!”

It took a minute for the crowd to start breaking apart, for the wave of bodies to begin shifting toward the exits.

Coban’s hand found mine again, rough and certain.

“We’re not playing their fucking game,” he growled under his breath, tugging me closer as the crowd swelled around us. “No one’s taking you away from me, Bella. Not a fucking chance.”

From the look in his eyes as he said it, I believed him…

But deep down, I couldn’t help the tremor that crawled through me.

Because no matter what he promised, this place didn’t care about promises.

When night fell, I had the horrible feeling that they would separate us.

Whether Coban liked it or not…