The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 1050

"We can figure out dinner later," Ethan said lightly. "You guys get some rest. I've got a pile of paperwork waiting for me at the precinct. See you around."

Leilani's gift had clearly worked magic. As Ethan turned and walked away, his stride was undeniably lighter, the heavy burden he had been carrying for days finally lifted.

...

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the city.

Inside a pitch-black room with the heavy curtains drawn tight, the atmosphere was suffocating.

The man wearing the silver mask stood frozen like a grotesque statue in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The screen of his burner phone had just gone dark, signaling the end of a very brief, very damning call.

The silence in the room was absolute, save for the rhythmic, anxious tapping of his knuckles against the window frame.

Through a mole buried deep inside the police precinct, The Silver Mask had just received the impossible news: Callahan and Leilani hadn't just survived—they were back, and they had already thrown Fitch Sherwood into an interrogation room.

"They're alive," he hissed.

Filtered through the electronic voice changer, the words sounded flat and robotic, but his knuckles were white as they gripped the window ledge. His supposedly flawless, airtight plan had been ripped to shreds. Callahan and Leilani hadn't died in the explosion. Instead, they had used it to completely flip the board, eliminating Talbot and Fitch in one brutal swoop and obliterating months of careful planning.

He stood motionless for a long time, his eerie reflection staring back at him in the dark glass. The neon city lights bled through the glass, catching the cold, metallic curve of his mask.

Finally, he turned away, sinking heavily into the leather sofa in the center of the dark room. The shadows swallowed him whole; only the faint, ominous gleam of the mask remained visible.

He picked up his phone again. His thumb hovered over a contact saved not with a name, but with a string of encrypted symbols. He hesitated, his pulse hammering in his throat, before finally pressing 'Call'.

The line connected almost instantly.

No one spoke. Only the slow, terrifyingly calm sound of breathing echoed through the receiver, projecting an immense, crushing pressure across the line.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify