Tamara clenched her phone, her chest aching with a suffocating pressure.
What exactly had Hackett told them? Why had even Zeus, following in Josiah’s footsteps, started brushing her off?
...
In the Sloan family garden.
Tamara sat on a swing, feeling a wave of self-pity after being rejected by both Josiah and Zeus. Her eyes were red, and she felt as if all her strength had been drained away.
The time to return to the Sherwoods was approaching fast. Tamara still hadn’t found anyone to help her. This was a stark contrast to her old life with the Sloans, where she was the pearl in their palm, commanding everyone’s attention.
Tamara couldn’t accept this drop in status. She thought of her last hope in the Sloan family.
“Clive...” She murmured the name.
Speak of the devil. Just as she whispered his name, footsteps approached from behind, followed by Clive’s lazy voice.
“Who upset our little princess? Why the long face on your visit home?”
Tamara whipped her head around. Seeing Clive’s roguish face, her tears instantly began to fall. “Clive!”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The Prison-Made Queen