The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 437

"Get out!"

The command hit Tamara like a physical blow. She trembled, her fingernails digging deep into her palms. Fake heiress... Those words were like daggers plunging into her heart.

Fighting back the humiliation, she looked at them with tear-filled eyes. "How could you say such things about me..."

Lance had regained his composure. He looked at her with an expressionless face, then turned to the butler. "Escort the guest out."

Tamara knew there was no chance of seeing Carola today. She could only make one last struggle before leaving. She wiped away a nonexistent tear, her voice choking with emotion. "Lance, I don't know why you have such a big misunderstanding about me, but I truly never meant to hurt Carola... I'll go now. When you’ve calmed down, I’ll come back to see her."

She turned and left, her retreating figure looking fragile and wronged.

However, the moment she stepped out of the Conner estate gates, the grievance on Tamara’s face vanished. She clenched her fists until they hurt. Leilani! It was Leilani again!

Tamara paused at the entrance, glancing back at the villa with a look of pure malice. “Leilani, just you wait! I will never let you step on me!”

...

Meanwhile, inside the house, Carola watched Tamara being "escorted" out by the butler. Desperate, she tried to climb out the window. "Tamara! Don't go! I'm coming to find you!"

"Stop her!" Lance’s face went pale. He bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

When he kicked the bedroom door open, Carola was already on the windowsill, half her body hanging over the edge.

"Are you crazy?" Lance grabbed her and yanked her back, his voice trembling. "For Tamara? You’d throw your life away for her?"

Carola collapsed on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. "You... you all don't understand... Tamara, she..."

She looked at Lance sternly. "Keep a close eye on things. Don't let her have any contact with Tamara."

"I understand."

...

In her car, Tamara stared at her phone screen, her eyes dark and gloomy.

Leilani’s reputation had spread through the city’s upper crust? Just how many trump cards did that woman have?

The more Tamara thought about it, the more uneasy she felt. Her fingers tapped unconsciously against the armrest. She had to figure out exactly what Leilani was capable of, and fast. Otherwise, she would forever be living in Leilani’s shadow.