Outcast Queen: Her Return from Hell novel Chapter 407

Under the spotlight, Silas stood center stage, speaking with grandiose confidence. He proudly displayed his trump cards—several core patents—one by one.

The technical barriers of his projects easily rivaled the chips Mavis held. No wonder he was so certain Draco Enterprises would throw him an olive branch.

The Sterling Group might have lost its former glory, but even a wounded giant casts a long shadow. As long as he could latch onto Draco Enterprises, this dying chess game would be completely revitalized.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the patents and projects I've just showcased perfectly align with the future landscape of new energy vehicles. Whether in sheer volume or raw potential, Sterling Group is leagues ahead." Silas leaned heavily on the podium, his aggressive gaze sweeping over the crowd. "I wonder what kind of leverage anyone else in this room could possibly pull to challenge me?"

A low murmur of whispers rippled through the audience.

Although the crowd was disgusted by his arrogant speech, they were helpless against it—he actually had the capital to back up his ego.

At that moment, Quentin stepped forward. He gave Silas a subtle nod, a flawless, professional smile curving his lips. "Mr. Sterling, the projects you've just presented are indeed incredibly impressive."

Silas's eyes burned with triumph.

Getting public validation from Draco Enterprises' director instantly maxed out his confidence. His voice boomed even louder. "Then I'll eagerly await the good news from Draco, Mr. Quentin."

Quentin offered a noncommittal smile, stepping aside and gesturing gracefully for him to step down.

Silas casually straightened the front of his suit and walked off the stage with the stride of a conqueror.

The moment he sat down, a swarm of social climbers flooded toward him.

Even though they knew they couldn't compete, they rushed to get on his good side, hoping to catch a few crumbs later.

"Mr. Sterling, it looks like Draco's golden ticket has your name on it!"

"Hahaha, the moment Mr. Sterling took the stage, he outshined everyone! I knew you'd win from the start!"

"Mr. Sterling, when you're eating the prime cuts, don't forget to save a little soup for the rest of us."

Bathed in the endless flattery, Silas's face glowed red. He looked like a king moments away from his coronation.

He purposefully shot a provocative look at Pierce in the distance, his eyes practically screaming: See that? Even if you dug a bottomless pit for me, I can still walk right over it!

It was only then that Warren realized this former "crippled outcast" who had been trampled on by everyone stood half a head taller than him.

Accustomed to looking down on Barrett, Warren felt deeply unsettled having to look up at him now. But what he couldn't ignore was the undeniable fear creeping into his own eyes as he stared at the man.

Barrett slowly reached out, patting Warren's shoulder with just enough force to be intimidating. His low voice dripped with a terrifying amusement. "Let me let you in on a secret. Whether it's Mavis or Silas... they're both just lapdogs I've been raising."

A chilling smirk curled his lips. "Watching my two dogs fight over a bone... don't you find that amusing?"

He said it so casually, but massive shockwaves tore through Warren's mind.

Mavis and Silas were actually his puppets? During all those years of hiding and pretending to be crippled, just what kind of horrifying underground web had this man spun in Cloudhaven?

A bone-deep chill crawled up Warren's spine as a miserable realization hit him: In this very moment, wasn't he just another dog begging at Barrett's feet?

He, Warren Prescott, used to be a king of industry. Now, he had been reduced to an attack dog for others to command. The bitter taste in his mouth was something he could only swallow down with blood.