The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 772

"I wasn't planning on asking the Sherwoods to help them," she defended herself in a small voice. I... I just wanted to ask how my dad is doing..."

"What's there to ask?" Gloria rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Let me give it to you straight. We have already done more than enough for your family. Fitch is sick and tired of it. We have our own business to run, and we cannot be expected to clean up your family's messes every single time."

"So, I'm warning you—do not pick up that phone. Your only priority right now is safely delivering that baby! Do not cause unnecessary complications!"

"You're a married woman now. What happens to the Sloans is no longer your concern. If they collapse, it's because they're incompetent. If you still want to live a life of luxury and ensure your child has a solid future, you will sit quietly and recognize who your real providers are!"

She stared at Tamara’s pale face, her tone softening slightly, though the threat beneath it only grew sharper. "I've made myself perfectly clear, haven't I? Do not let me catch you contacting them. If you bring one more ounce of trouble to this family... Don't blame me if you never see the outside of this living room again!"

Looking at Gloria's icy expression, Tamara finally understood why she was so furious. The Sloan Group had screwed up again, and they were probably trying to drag the Sherwoods down to clean up the fallout.

But the Sherwoods weren't running a charity. Since the wedding, they really had bailed her family out plenty of times. This time, Fitch was likely too stretched thin—and totally exhausted by the constant demands.

Tamara glanced back at the chaotic scenes outside the Sloan Group headquarters flashing on the TV. Her heart pounded against her ribs. For some reason, an intense, unsettling anxiety washed over her.

But she couldn't deny that Gloria had a point.

Tamara might be spoiled, but she wasn't stupid. Walking on eggshells in this house had taught her one brutal truth: without her family's backing, her footing here was practically nonexistent. Clashing with Gloria right now would only end in disaster.

If she lost her family, she desperately needed to secure her place with the Sherwoods. She couldn't afford to be left with nothing.

Biting her lip, she slowly pulled her hand back, letting the phone vibrate against the table until the screen finally went black.

The next morning, inside the top-floor boardroom of the Sloan Group.

The oval table was surrounded by board members, each wearing varying expressions of dread. The air was so thick with tension it felt suffocating.

The head chair remained empty. Hackett still hadn't arrived.

The double doors suddenly swung open. Fitch Sherwood, dressed in a sharp, dark, tailored suit and wearing a pleasant smile, strolled in. He was flanked by two assistants and a corporate lawyer.

Ignoring the stunned stares of the board, he walked straight to the empty seat right next to the chairman's chair, sat down, and casually placed his briefcase on the table. He moved with the effortless confidence of a man who owned the room.