The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 329

Truly pitiful and pathetic.

Milford didn't look at her again. He turned and walked to the door, leaving behind one cold piece of advice. "I've said what I needed to say. You're on your own."

The moment the door clicked shut, Tamara grabbed a vase from the nightstand and smashed it against the wall.

“Crash!”

The sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the room, mirroring the complete collapse of her disguise.

Finally, Tamara was alone. She slumped onto the floor, her fingers digging claw-like into the carpet. Currently, the silence was terrifying. The only sound was her rapid, ragged breathing echoing in the empty room.

It was over. It was all over!

Everything she had meticulously planned... The image she had painstakingly built... The position of "Mrs. Milford Sherwood" she had fought so hard to secure... ruined! Now, Milford wanted a divorce. Fitch and Gloria loathed her. Even the Sloans might not protect her now.

Tamara shook violently. A panic like she had never felt before spread from the depths of her heart, wrapping around it like a cold, venomous snake. She curled up on the floor, sobbing helplessly.

...

Meanwhile, Gloria's face remained dark as she left the guest wing. Worried that Tamara would cause more trouble for the family, she paused for a moment before summoning the butler. Her voice was stern. "Send a few people to 'attend' to Tamara at her door. Don't let her take a single step out of that room for the time being."

The butler understood immediately. It was house arrest. He bowed his head. "Yes, Ma'am. I understand."

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