The door to the visiting room flung open, and you entered, followed by several cops. In front of you, there was a glass partition. You sat down on the chair, glaring at the glass and the door, hoping that he would come through. Just then, the door opened, and the cops next to you stiffened, placing a hand on their holsters, their eyes fixed on the man who was walking towards the seat and making himself comfortable, manspreading. This man killed your brother, despite Damien being under the protection of the law. Upon seeing you, Derek smirked, rolled his shoulders back, cocked his head, and narrowed his eyes to assess you. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Derek picked up the payphone, leaned his upper body on a table, and kept his eyes fixed on yours. When you raised an eyebrow, he chuckled and rested his hand against his cheek.

"Fiery, aren't you, baby? Your brother was almost similar to you, I have to give it to you. He didn't go down without a fight," Derek sneered, reminding you of the fact that he had murdered your 18-year-old brother.