The city jail, where every manner of criminal was held before transfer to the most horrifying of them all.
The prison itself—the Death Zone—where inhumane acts unfolded behind closed doors.
While police conducted their routine questioning, Alessandro sat in his cell, counting days on the wall and grinning like a madman.
His plans were in motion. He was sure of it. That bastard son of his and his pathetic little family must be weeping by now.
Oh, he thought imprisonment would stop him? Foolish. All of this was temporary. The only reason he remained in custody was public unrest—they were feeding the press a show of punishment while his real case dragged its feet.
His cell practically glimmered with luxury. He ate the finest meals, bathed like a king, while other prisoners rotted and glowered. Alessandro had been promised release at least a week before New Year. And now, two days before the celebration, he expected a letter or phone call soon. Today. Tomorrow at the latest.
