The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 841

Who did he think he was? Some indispensable VIP?

Even Bagot's own father, Talbot, wouldn't dare speak to Callahan like that. After all, Callahan was nothing like Bagot—a clueless, empty-headed fool. If he truly pushed Callahan's buttons, Callahan could easily ensure that Talbot's branch of the family sank even further from their already precarious position within the Langley Group.

But at the end of the day, they were still family. Callahan had no desire to break his grandfather's heart or push things to the absolute brink.

Bagot was left utterly speechless by the merciless, piercing string of questions. His face morphed like a painter's palette—from red to green, and finally to a sickly pale.

Callahan had always commanded immense respect among the younger generation. Seeing him genuinely furious made both Bagot and Beatty flinch.

Standing off to the side, Beatty was already white as a sheet. She yanked hard on Bagot's sleeve, her voice trembling with panic and tears. "Bagot! Stop talking! I'm begging you, let's just go! Don't make Callahan any angrier!"

She had known her older cousin's temper for years. If Bagot genuinely crossed the line, even their parents wouldn't be able to save him. On some level, Beatty knew Callahan was right—her brother was just digging his own grave for no reason.

Callahan didn't even bother sparing his useless cousin another glance, as if looking at him for a second longer would dirty his eyes.

He reached out, wrapping an arm around Leilani's slender shoulders, and pulled her a little closer to his chest. Without hesitation, he turned on his heel and strode steadily toward the waiting black sedan.

He left Bagot frozen in place like a defeated rooster, forced to watch their retreating silhouettes disappear into the distance.

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