The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 884

Yet, just days ago, she had been living in a sprawling estate with a private pool and immaculate gardens, eating off imported china and walking on hand-woven Italian rugs.

The sheer drop in her reality made her head spin.

Stumbling backward, Zadie collapsed onto the sofa. She buried her face in her hands, tears slipping through her fingers.

"How did this happen... How did our family fall so far..."

This time, her sobs weren't laced with entitlement or complaints. It was the sound of absolute, broken resignation.

Zeus felt a twinge of guilt watching his mother break down, but he kept his mouth shut. With a heavy sigh, he turned, opened the door, and walked out.

Hackett scoffed, saying nothing, but his expression grew even darker.

He wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what his sons were doing.

When disaster strikes, it's every man for himself—even spouses, let alone sons.

The silence in the room grew suffocating.

Josiah tried to smooth things over. "Come on, Mom. Zeus and Clive have their own careers, it's just easier for them to live alone."

"Besides, it's the 21st century. We can call each other whenever, and it's just a short drive away. We aren't that far."

He looked at his youngest brother. "Have you eaten? Do you want to..."

"No thanks, Josiah," Clive said, immediately cutting him off. "I... I actually have plans with a friend. I should get going."

He avoided his parents' eyes, practically bolting for the door.

The living room fell back into a dead, heavy silence.

...

Even though it was a bright, sunny afternoon outside, the bedroom was plunged in pitch blackness, save for the dim, sickly yellow glow of a single bedside lamp.

Curled into a tight ball amidst the tangled sheets, the cold light of his phone screen illuminated his haggard face.

In just a few days, his eyes had become heavily bloodshot, and a dark shadow of stubble coated his jaw.

Like a trapped animal, he relentlessly dialed a number, refusing to give up.

But the automated voice on the other end remained frustratingly cold: "The number you have dialed is currently busy."

Clive's face contorted in fury.

It was obvious—the woman on the other end had blocked him.

Running a frustrated hand through his greasy hair, he tried dialing another number. Same result.