The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 907

For them to suddenly resurrect all at once...

Something was terribly wrong.

A heavy wave of dread washed over Hackett.

"Hello? Stefan?"

"What do you want?"

Hackett picked up the first call.

Feigned concern oozed from the other end. "Hackett, old friend, have you checked the news? Is your boy Clive... in some sort of trouble? How did he end up in headlines like that?"

Hackett froze, his brain struggling to process. "What news? What's wrong with Clive?" His youngest son had been exiled from that messy industry ages ago. What kind of news could he possibly make?

"Oh, my! You haven't seen it? You better check!"

"Your kid is the number one trending topic! They're saying he was at an infectious disease clinic... Hey, kids are young, they make mistakes. Just make sure you look after your own health..." The man offered a few hollow platitudes before hastily hanging up.

Hackett's stomach dropped. Just as he lowered the phone, another call beeped in. It was a former business associate, and he was far more blunt.

"Hackett! What the hell is wrong with your son? Clive caught some filthy disease and now the whole damn world knows! Was he infected when we were all having dinner together? Did you f*cking know about this and try to screw us over?"

Hackett's lips trembled with rage. "What kind of garbage are you spouting! My son is—"

"Garbage? Go look for yourself! It's all over the internet! Your entire family is rotten to the core! You go bankrupt and now you're trying to drag the rest of us down? F*cking unbelievable!"

The man cursed him out and slammed the phone down.

Then came the third call, the fourth... They swooped in like vultures smelling a corpse.

Hackett surged to his feet, wanting to smash something in his fury, but the world suddenly tilted. His vision went black. It felt as if an invisible, iron hand had viciously crushed his heart. An agonizing pain radiated through his chest.

Clutching his chest, he stumbled, trying to call out for Josiah, but found half of his body had gone completely numb. His tongue felt like dead weight in his mouth. The only sound he could make was a grotesque, ragged gasp.

"Crash!"

His heavy body hit the floor, knocking over the drinks on the coffee table. Amber liquid and garbage spilled everywhere.

Zadie was just stepping out of the kitchen.

As she crossed the threshold, her gaze casually swept the living room, and she froze instantly, as if struck by lightning.

Her mind went entirely blank.

Hackett was curled awkwardly against the base of the sofa, one hand clamped a death grip over his heart, his knuckles stark white from the pressure.