The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 948

Night slowly draped over the city.

In the study of the Langley estate, a single desk lamp cast a warm halo over the mahogany desk.

It had been exactly 72 hours since anyone had heard from Callahan and Leilani.

Dante Langley sat alone in his massive leather armchair. He had lost count of how many times he had dialed their numbers.

With slightly trembling, aged fingers, Dante hit redial yet again. He pressed the receiver hard against his ear. The brief rings of the dialing tone felt like they were slicing his nerves into ribbons.

Seconds later, the same cold, robotic voice answered: "The number you have dialed is currently unavailable..."

Still nothing.

"That reckless brat... and my sweet girl... what on earth is going on..."

The old man lowered the phone, muttering to himself, his silver brows knitting deeply together.

They had been completely MIA for three days!

No matter how swamped Callahan usually was, he always made a point to text him at least once a day to check in. And Leilani was incredibly thoughtful and meticulous; she would never just disappear and leave her family worried sick.

Three days. Seventy-two hours. Total radio silence. It was highly abnormal.

A fierce sense of dread crept up Dante's legs and coiled tightly around his heart, making his pulse pound erratically against his ribs.

Having navigated the cutthroat corporate world and weathered countless storms over the decades, his instincts were screaming at him. Something had happened to them.

The rhythmic ticking of the antique grandfather clock was magnified in the silent study, each tick striking like a hammer against Dante's chest.

He pushed himself up, gripping his cane, and paced back and forth across the thick rug, desperately trying to shake off the suffocating unease.

That idiot boy must have lied to him before he left! And he dragged Leilani down with him!

When they got back, he was going to beat Callahan black and blue. But even the mental image of scolding his grandson did nothing to soothe his spiking anxiety.

He had raised Callahan himself. He knew the boy could be fiercely independent, sometimes even ruthless, but he never took reckless risks. Wherever he went, whatever he was hiding... could they be in real danger?

Over an hour later, Jarvis pushed the study doors open again. His face was significantly paler than when he had left.

"Sir, I spoke with Lennox..." Jarvis chose his words very carefully, his throat dry. "He said that last Wednesday afternoon, without any prior warning, the Boss completely cleared his schedule for the next two weeks. He only told the Vice President that a critical personal matter required his immediate attention, and he had no set return date. As for where he went or what the matter was, Lennox swears he has no idea. The Boss strictly forbade him from asking questions and ordered him not to breathe a word of this to the estate. The Vice President is currently running operations."