The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 775

Like a conquering general inspecting his newly acquired territory, he took a slow lap around the bookshelves.

When his eyes landed on a framed portrait of the Sloan family hanging on the opposite wall, a faint, mocking smile touched his lips.

After a thorough sweep, he found it all thoroughly unimpressive.

He despised every piece of decor in this room. But with Hackett ousted, this territory was his now.

He could do whatever he wanted with it.

A surge of intoxicating pride and absolute power swelled in his chest.

Riding that high, Fitch walked straight behind the massive mahogany desk. Without a hint of hesitation, he pulled out the leather executive chair that Hackett had occupied for over a decade and dropped himself into it.

The chair let out a faint creak as it adjusted to a new weight.

Leaning back into the plush leather, he rested his arms on the armrests and swiveled slowly, soaking in the victory.

Then, he lifted his legs and planted his polished dress shoes squarely onto the gleaming mahogany surface, the hard heels unapologetically scraping across a faint scratch on the wood.

Pulling out his phone, he lounged back and dialed a number, his tone dripping with unmistakable triumph. "Yes, everything went perfectly. I've handled the situation exactly as requested. Don't forget the terms we agreed upon."

Whatever the mysterious figure on the other end promised, Fitch's smile only grew wider.

Even after he ended the call, the smug grin lingered on his face. His gaze drifted to a sleek pen holder stamped with the old Sloan Group logo. He let out a soft huff of amusement.

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