The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 466

“Given your current situation, you should be grateful to get any work at all. Stop being so picky.”

Clive’s face was ashen. He barely remembered how he had been rejected by Tiger Entertainment; he had simply stumbled out of their offices in a daze. Afterward, he attended several other interviews in quick succession, but without exception, he was turned away.

“Mr. Sloan, we understand your situation, but...”

“But what?”

Having been rejected so many times, Clive was growing numb to it. His condition was visibly deteriorating, and the hiring manager interviewing him—a young man fresh out of college—couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. Seeing Clive’s pitiful state, he offered a quiet word of warning.

“Mr. Sloan, I can only tell you this off the record. Glitz Entertainment has... had a word with us and the surrounding companies.”

Clive’s composure cracked instantly. He stood up abruptly, his chair screeching harshly against the floor. “What do you mean by that?”

The manager spread his hands helplessly. “Mr. Sloan, surely you know who you’ve offended? You were at your previous company for a long time; you should know your old boss’s temperament better than anyone. That’s all I can say. You’ll have to figure out the rest yourself.”

Clive left the building and wandered into a nearby café in a trance. He sat in a corner, a cup of black coffee in front of him, losing count of how many companies had rejected him. The excuse was always the same. Glitz Entertainment had blacklisted him. Smaller agencies claimed they couldn’t afford a “big shot” like him, while others simply said they couldn’t take the risk.

He gripped his coffee cup until his knuckles turned white. Glitz Entertainment was being ruthless. They were cutting off his escape routes completely to force him to bow his head!

His phone vibrated incessantly. It was a message from Luke.

***

Meanwhile, Leilani was methodically preparing for Payton’s treatment. Callahan’s residence was well-stocked with tools, and Leilani had commandeered an empty room to serve as a temporary laboratory.

Payton’s poison was incredibly rare, and she had made little headway over the past few days. Her only option was to immerse herself in the lab, conducting small-scale experiments.

Wearing medical gloves, Leilani held a test tube containing Payton’s blood sample up to the light. Perhaps because the poison had been in his system for so long, the blood appeared an abnormal, dark purple hue. After running it through the centrifuge, the upper layer of serum floated with fine, black particles—precipitates formed by the binding of toxin and antibodies.

The eerie part was that these precipitates hadn’t been neutralized; instead, they were slowly multiplying within the petri dish.