The Girlboss Begs for Remarriage



"Well, the jig's up."

The fettered geezer shook his head and sighed. "I guess you'll be getting the Willbreaker."NôvelDrama.Org owns all content.

"Willbreaker? What's that?" Frank asked.

"To bring the new inmates down a peg, they would all be beaten up their first day in... though the severity depends on what you can offer the jailer." The geezer shook his head and sighed-Frank would definitely be getting a world of pain since he was not paying off the jailer.

Still, he advised, "Look, if you can't pay him off and have nothing of value, you just have to endure the stick and be as agreeable as possible. That way, the jailer just might take it easy on you."

"Exactly." A skinny inmate sighed in agreement. "I had nothing to offer when I was brought here, so I had to suffer fifty strikes. Fortunately, I was healthy enough to recover after two weeks' worth of lying down."

He then looked pointedly at Frank. "But judging from your small frame, it'd take you a month to recover."

"Yeah, but surviving is better than nothing."

The other inmates were offering heartfelt advice as Frank was about to be given a beating.

It was a rite of passage for every Blackwater inmate, and one would only be spared if they knew about it beforehand and had someone outside pay off the jailer.

As for Frank, who came in without valuables and had no one outside making bribes for him, he was certainly a tragic case.

It was at least fifty strikes.

If he were lucky, he would need just a couple of weeks to recover like the other inmate.

If he was not, he was looking at disability and a chronic condition.

"All of you, quiet!"

The jailer could clearly hear the discussion the closer he moved to Frank's cell.

Smacking the jail bars with his baton grumpily, he looked around and asked, "I heard there's a new face. Where is he?"

"Over there, sir." One of his flunkies hurried to him, bowing politely before leading the way.

Naturally, they headed straight to Frank's cell.

"Hmph. Fucking lapdogs." Frank vaguely heard Scarface swearing under his breath just then.

He presumed that Scarface was

cursing at the jailer. However, he noticed upon a closer look that Scarface was glaring with fury and contempt, but at the jailer's flunkies who were hovering around him.

"You are you new here?"

swne

The jailer asked as he reached Frank's cell, nudging Frank on the shoulder with his baton through the bars and barking coolly, "Anything you'd like to give me?"

"Nope," Frank replied impassively.

"No?"

Frank's blunt response somehow did not upset the warden, and he cleared his throat as he continued, "Then do you have anything fun?

Hand it over and sweeten my pot?"

"Nope," Frank repeated impassively.

His uninterested reaction left the fettered geezer sighing and turning away.

Frank really should have at least put on a smile even if he did not have anything, to show some sincerity.

What was he doing, acting all pompous toward the jailer and challenging his authority?!