The Warden's Move

Jasper had won.

Pante was broken, his rule shattered. The prison belonged to Jasper now.

But the real power? Sat behind a desk. Watching.

And now, it was watching him.

The guards didn't just break up the riot—they made a statement.

Jasper felt every baton strike. Every boot to his ribs. He didn't fight back. Didn't need to.

Because when the guards came down on Pante just as hard? Ethan knew.

The Warden had made his decision.

They didn't drag him back to the hole. They didn't beat him unconscious and leave him for dead.

No.

They dragged him somewhere worse.

Jasper sat in a steel chair, wrists cuffed to the armrests. The warden's office was clean, precise, unlike the rest of Blackridge. Papers neatly stacked. A faint scent of expensive cigars lingering in the air.

Across from him, behind a mahogany desk, sat Warden Roger Grayson.

The real king of Blackridge.

Grayson was older, late fifties maybe, but sharp. His suit was pressed. His silver hair slicked back. Not a single thing out of place.

Except his eyes.

Cold. Calculating. The kind of man who saw the world as a chessboard.

He tapped a folder on his desk. Jasper recognized his own name on the tab.

"You've been busy, Cruz," Grayson said smoothly.

Jasper said nothing.

Grayson smirked. "Pante's done. His crew is scattered. That makes you the new problem."

Jasper met his gaze. Unshaken. "Then do something about it."

Grayson chuckled. "Oh, I intend to." He leaned forward. "You think you've won? That taking out one man makes you untouchable?"

He flipped open the folder.

"Inmate #42601, Jasper Cruz," Grayson read aloud. "Former corporate executive. Convicted of murder. Sentenced to life without parole. Entered Blackridge six months ago."

His fingers tapped against the page.

"In those six months, you've been in five fights, spent twenty-two days in solitary, and put three men in the infirmary."

He glanced up. "Impressive."

Ethan held his stare. "You going somewhere with this?"

The warden leaned back, steepling his fingers. "I'm giving you a choice."

Grayson's voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp, measuring.

"This prison runs on order, Cruz. And like it or not, Pante provided that order." He tilted his head. "Until you shattered it."

Ethan didn't blink.

"You could've just survived," Grayson continued. "Kept your head down. Served your time." He smiled. "But you didn't, did you?"

Jasper exhaled through his nose. "There was no 'serving time.' We both know that."

Grayson nodded. "And now you're at a crossroads."

He leaned forward, voice lowering.

"You back off, let the system reset, and I let you keep what you've earned."

Jasper narrowed his eyes. "And if I refuse?"

Grayson's smile didn't waver.

"Then I throw you in the Hole until you forget what sunlight looks like."

Jasper knew the game.

This wasn't about power—it was about control.

Grayson wasn't stopping him. He was using him.

Letting him rule, as long as he played by the warden's rules.

Jasper's mind worked fast.

He could fight back. Refuse.

But what would that get him? Another round in solitary? More guards beating him to a pulp?

He was strong. But not invincible.

He needed to be smart.

Jasper leaned forward. Smirked.

"Then let's make a deal."

Grayson raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

Jasper spoke slowly. Carefully. "You want order? Fine. I'll keep things from spiraling out of control." He tilted his head. "But in return, I get free movement. No more guards trying to break me. No more 'accidents' in the showers."

Grayson studied him for a long moment. Then, he chuckled.

"You think you can bargain with me?"

Jasper's smirk didn't fade. "I think you need me more than you're letting on."

The warden's fingers drummed against the desk. Then, finally—

He nodded.

"Fine. You get what you want." His smile was sharp. Dangerous. "But if you step out of line? If you forget who's really in charge?"

He tapped the folder.

"You're not the first inmate who thought he could outplay me."

Jasper met his gaze. "Then let's see who wins."

The cuffs were unlocked. The guards stepped back.

Jasper stood, stretching his bruised arms.

Grayson gave him one last look. "Don't disappoint me, Cruz."

Ethan walked out without another word.

Because now?

Blackridge was his.

Back in gen-pop, Mark was waiting.

Jasper sat down across from him at their usual table, ignoring the stares.

The entire prison had changed.

Some inmates looked at him with fear. Others with respect.

But none with doubt.

Mark exhaled. "So. What'd the old man want?"

Jasper smirked. "A deal."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "And?"

Jasper leaned back, arms crossed.

"He thinks he's still in control." His eyes flickered toward the warden's tower, barely visible through the yard's fence.

Mark studied him. "But you're planning something."

Jasper's smirk widened.

"Of course."

Because this wasn't about winning a prison.

This was about getting out.

And now?

The real plan begins.