The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 956

Looking straight into the camera, Talbot wore a mask of profound sorrow. He let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as if overwhelmed by the pain. "Callahan... I watched that brilliant boy grow up. This tragedy... my heart is broken. Losing him is a devastating blow to our entire family..."

Talbot paused, flawlessly pivoting the narrative, his tone turning "resolute." "But as deeply as we are grieving, we cannot afford to drown in our sorrow right now. Thousands of employees rely on the Langley Group for their livelihood. The market needs stability. In this dark hour, I have to shoulder this burden and keep the ship steady. It's the only way to honor Callahan's legacy..."

His words were beautifully crafted, utterly unimpeachable. But the fleeting, barely concealed gleam of relief and triumph in his eyes was like a poisoned dagger plunging straight into Dante's chest.

"Turn it off! Turn it off, now!"

Unable to hold back his fury, Dante let out a low roar. The veins at his temples bulged as his chest heaved violently. "That piece of shit! Who gave him the right to stand in front of the cameras and spout this garbage?!"

Seeing how dangerously agitated the old man was, Jarvis quickly ordered Mamie to kill the TV and helped Dante into his study to rest.

Dante knew he couldn't afford to have a stroke right now.

If he fell, there would be no one left to hold the line for his grandson.

Slumped in his heavy mahogany armchair, Dante closed his eyes, fighting off the palpitations brought on by the absurd news.

Jarvis quietly organized the medicine bottles and water glass on the desk, his brow knotted with deep worry. A suffocating silence filled the room.

Before the words had even fully left his mouth, the panicked voice of the head of security rang out from the hallway. "Mr. Langley, the board members are here. They claim it's an absolute emergency and demand to see you immediately!"

Dante's expression turned terrifyingly cold, a lethal glint flashing through his cloudy eyes.

Taking a deep breath, he gripped the carved head of his cane and forced himself to stand. His voice wasn't loud, but it radiated sheer, untouchable dominance. "Let them in."

The heavy oak doors were pushed open. Five or six of the most powerful men on the board, led by Director Judson, filed into the room, their expressions grave and complicated.