Chapter 483: Prison

In the Prison, Among those inmates was a man who, less than three weeks ago, had lived a life that seemed completely disconnected from a place like this.

Damien.

The same Damien who had once believed that wealth could place him above consequences. The same man who had become obsessed with Sophie Youngs after watching her streams repeatedly, eventually becoming so fixated on her that he had gone as far as impersonating Stan’s alias in an attempt to get close to her and win her over.

It was also the same Damien who had been arrested and imprisoned after attempting to rape Zoey, Sophie’s friend and Zack’s girlfriend, only for Stan to arrive in time and save her.

Damien had been born into wealth and had grown up surrounded by luxury, influence, and people who were willing to bend over backward simply because of his family name. He had never needed to worry about the consequences of his actions because there had always been someone willing to clean up his messes. Money had opened doors for him, influence had protected him, and his family’s reputation had ensured that most people thought twice before crossing him.

His obsession with Sophie, however, had eventually twisted into something much darker. After she rejected and ignored his advances, Damien had developed a deep resentment toward female streamers in general. In his distorted mind, Sophie’s rejection had become an insult he could not accept, and he eventually began targeting other female streamers, including Zoey, as though they were somehow responsible for what Sophie had done to him.

Outside the prison walls, Damien’s money could buy almost anything. Business owners had welcomed him. Powerful people had answered his calls. Those who worked for his family knew better than to question him unnecessarily. Even women who wanted nothing to do with him had learned that rejecting him could come with consequences.

None of that mattered inside Blackridge.

Here, there were no luxury cars waiting outside the gates, no private security detail following him around, no servants attending to his needs, and no family connections capable of making the inmates respect him. His surname meant nothing to the men around him. His wealth could not purchase freedom, and his influence could not intimidate prisoners who had already spent years living among violence.

Inside these walls, Damien was simply another inmate.

And that was something he had yet to accept.

"Get up."

Damien’s head snapped upward at the command.

A large man stood directly in front of him. He was easily over six feet tall, with a thick neck, broad shoulders, and a heavily built frame that made Damien look almost insignificant by comparison. Several faded scars crossed his arms, while another thin scar ran along the side of his jaw. Two other inmates stood several steps behind him, positioned in a way that effectively blocked Damien’s path.

Damien’s jaw tightened as he looked at them.

"Move."

The large inmate stared at him for several seconds before letting out a low laugh. There was nothing friendly about it. The sound carried nothing but contempt, as though Damien had just said something genuinely amusing.

"You still haven’t learned, have you?"

Damien slowly pushed himself to his feet. Despite the circumstances, his expression remained arrogant.

"I said move."

The man’s amusement disappeared.

He stepped closer until his massive frame towered over Damien, then suddenly reached out and grabbed him by the collar. Damien’s expression changed immediately as the fabric tightened against his neck.

The inmate pulled him forward until their faces were only inches apart.

"Listen carefully, rich boy. I don’t give a damn who you were outside."

Damien narrowed his eyes.

"You think that name of yours means something in here?"

Before Damien could answer, the man shoved him backward.

Damien stumbled several steps before catching himself.

Several inmates nearby turned their attention toward the confrontation. Some watched openly, clearly entertained by what was happening, while others continued eating as though nothing unusual had occurred. Fights were not exactly uncommon inside Blackridge. Most prisoners had seen enough of them that another beating barely qualified as an event.

The large inmate slowly cracked his knuckles.

"Out there, maybe you had people jumping whenever you snapped your fingers. Maybe you had servants, bodyguards, and people who were afraid of what your family could do to them."

He gestured casually toward the prison walls.

"But in here, none of that matters."

A cruel smile appeared on his face.

"You’re nobody."

Damien’s hands slowly curled into fists.

"You’d better watch your mouth."

The man’s smile vanished.

"Wrong answer."

His fist slammed into Damien’s stomach before Damien could react.

The impact drove the air violently from his lungs. Damien’s body folded forward, and he staggered backward while desperately trying to breathe. Before he could recover, another punch struck the side of his face.

His vision flashed white.

He stumbled sideways and crashed hard against the concrete wall.

Laughter immediately erupted from several nearby inmates.

"Look at him."

"Rich boy doesn’t look so rich anymore."

"Maybe somebody should teach him where he stands."

Damien wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and glared at them. His breathing had become ragged, but rather than lowering his head or showing submission, he continued staring at the men with the same defiance that had protected his ego outside these walls.

That only made things worse.

The large inmate grabbed him by the front of his prison uniform and slammed him against the wall again before throwing another punch. Damien’s head snapped to the side from the impact, and his legs nearly gave out beneath him.

"You still don’t understand, do you?"

Another punch struck his ribs.

Damien groaned and stumbled forward.

The beating continued.

Every time he attempted to regain his footing, one of the three inmates struck him again. A kick sent him sprawling across the cold concrete floor, and before he could push himself up, someone stepped on his back and forced him down.

"You’re going to learn."

A kick struck his side.

"You’re in prison now."

Another blow landed against his ribs.

"We’re the ones who make the rules."