The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 739

To Hackett, Lennox's words were a literal rope tossed to a man drowning in a tempest.

He fought to suppress the hysterical joy clawing up his throat. His voice was slightly hoarse from the adrenaline, but he forced himself to sound composed.

"Available!"

"Absolutely, I am available!"

"Please extend my deepest gratitude to Mr. Langley for his concern, and rest assured, I will be there right on time!"

"Excellent."

"I will forward the exact meeting details and security clearance to your phone shortly."

"Good day, Mr. Sloan."

"We look forward to seeing you."

Lennox smoothly terminated the call.

The line went dead, leaving only the dial tone echoing in the quiet office.

Hackett kept his phone pressed to his ear for a few seconds longer, his palm slick with a cold, triumphant sweat.

He was so blindsided by this miraculous turn of events that he could barely process it.

There was always a way out!

Never in his wildest dreams did Hackett imagine that his company's salvation would come courtesy of the daughter he had thrown away like trash.

This was Langley Group!

Everyone knew that in Alloy City, Langley Group was the apex predator.

If Callahan Langley stamped his foot, the entire financial district registered an earthquake.

If Langley Group was the titan of Alloy City, Sloan Group was just a small-time player passing through.

Securing an investment from Langley Group wouldn't just save them; it would elevate Sloan Group to an entirely new echelon.

He could not afford to let this slip through his fingers!

Hackett bolted upright and began pacing the room, the suffocating dread from minutes ago completely eradicated. His face was flushed crimson with manic excitement.

"Langley Group... Callahan Langley..."

The moment Josiah's plane touched down, Hackett dragged his exhausted son straight to Langley Group headquarters.

Because Lennox had pre-cleared them, they bypassed the heavy security and were escorted directly to the executive floors.

Beyond the massive floor-to-ceiling windows lay a breathtaking, sweeping view of the Alloy City skyline.

Compared to Sloan Group's modern, flashy aesthetic, Callahan's office exuded the terrifying, suffocating gravity of old money and untouchable power.

Sitting on the immaculate Italian leather sofa, Hackett and Josiah felt entirely out of their depth.

Hackett kept his hands tightly clasped on his lap, his thumbs nervously rubbing together, his eyes darting around with thinly veiled desperation.

Josiah sat ramrod straight, his expression far more guarded and uneasy than his father's.

The heavy mahogany doors swung open.

Callahan walked in.

He was dressed in a flawlessly tailored dark suit, no tie, the top button of his shirt casually undone. His mere presence seemed to suck the oxygen out of the room, radiating a cold, crushing authority.

Lennox trailed half a step behind him, carrying a tablet and a thick, heavily sealed manila envelope.