The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 968

Tamara reluctantly set down her silverware, picking up a napkin to dab gracefully at her lips, as if she hadn't just been eating like a wild animal.

She commanded, "Lila, the chicken broth is excellent today. Get me another bowl!"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"Right away, Ma'am!" Despite her confusion, Lila saw that Tamara was in high spirits and didn't dare question her. She quickly scurried off to the kitchen.

Tamara leaned comfortably back against her plush chair, resting one hand gently on her noticeably swollen belly. Her face radiated an unapologetic sense of triumph and superiority.

"Baby, you really are Mommy's little lucky charm," she whispered to her stomach. Her voice was dripping with sweetness, yet an icy chill lurked just beneath the surface.

"You see? Everyone who stood in our way, everyone who tried to keep us from a good life, they're all gone. Erased. So completely and cleanly... No one can stop us now. Everything the Sherwood family owns will be yours someday..."

She couldn't help but think about how Gloria hadn't been back to the house in almost a month. Now, the only true masters of this sprawling, luxurious estate were the aging Fitch—who relied on her more every day—and herself, the lady of the house carrying his only hope for the future.

Everything was falling into place so perfectly it felt like a dream she hadn't dared to wish for!

Meanwhile, up in the second-floor study.

Fitch raised a hand to cut him off, his eyes turning razor-sharp. "No. Do not touch the Langley family right now. Their roots run deep, far deeper than they appear, and old man Dante is nobody's fool. Meddling with them now would only invite unnecessary backlash."

"For now, focus all our capital and manpower on crushing the Sloan family! Let's swallow the fattest, easiest piece of meat first. That's the priority!"

The video call disconnected, plunging the study into absolute silence.

Fitch stood up slowly, pacing over to the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. He stared down at the expensive shrubbery illuminated by the garden lights in the night, his gaze dark and unreadable.

Things were progressing faster than he had initially anticipated—so smoothly, in fact, that he instinctively ignored the tiny flicker of unease at the back of his mind.