Slade heard the news through one of his closest contacts.

One of his oldest allies was getting out of prison.

After years behind bars, she was finally being released.

The problem?

She didn’t exactly have somewhere to go.

Not that she’d admit it.

She’d rather sleep in a car than tell Slade Wilson she needed help.

Fortunately for her—

Slade knew her too well.

So when she walked out of those prison gates, she didn’t end up at some cheap motel.

She ended up at Slade’s place.

He’d offered her a room.

She hadn’t argued.

That was about as close to admitting she needed somewhere to stay as she was ever going to get.

Slade didn’t make a big deal out of it.

He simply gave her a key.

“Room’s yours.”

And that was that.

After years of prison food, concrete walls, fluorescent lights, and a schedule dictated by someone else—

Slade decided she could enjoy a little luxury.

A real bed.

A private bathroom.

Actual food.

A kitchen she could walk into whenever she wanted.

A television.

Hot showers that didn’t shut off because someone else decided they should.

And, most importantly—

A door that locked from the inside.

The first few days, she barely seemed to know what to do with herself.

Slade noticed.

He didn’t comment.

Instead, he quietly made sure there was always food in the kitchen and never questioned how long she stayed in the shower.

If she wanted to sleep until noon, she could.

If she wanted to sit on the couch all night watching television, nobody would bother her.

There were no guards.

No schedules.

No head counts.

No locked doors.

Just freedom.

And Slade was perfectly content letting her experience every bit of it.

One evening, he walked into the living room and found her stretched out on the couch, surrounded by snacks, with the television playing.

Slade stopped.

Looked at her.

Then at the food.

Then at the television.

A faint smirk pulled at his mouth.

“Getting comfortable?”

She didn’t answer.

She didn’t need to.

Slade walked away.

Because after spending years behind prison walls—

His closest ally deserved to experience something she’d probably forgotten existed.

Luxury.

Privacy.

Freedom.

And apparently—

His couch was now part of the package.