The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 738

Refusing to accept defeat, Hackett frantically dialed number after number.

"Richard, do you have any liquidity right now? I just need a short-term float of fifty million..."

"Mr. Lambert, I heard you just closed a massive deal. Could you possibly..."

Every single call ended in rejection.

"Ah, Hackett, bad timing. Everything is tied up in futures. If you'd called a few days ago, I might have been able to help."

"Sorry, my hands are tied. You'll have to ask someone else."

"..."

"Hackett, not to lecture you, but you should have prepared for this. In this economic climate, nobody is lending capital out blindly."

When the final call disconnected, a suffocating silence settled over the office.

Hackett slumped back in his leather chair, staring blankly at the bustling city traffic below. His entire body felt like ice.

When the wall falls, everyone pushes...

Sloan Group was staring down the barrel of total annihilation, and after exhausting his entire network, not a single person was willing to throw him a life preserver.

Was this really the end of the line for Sloan Group?

Just as Hackett was about to drown in utter despair...

His phone suddenly buzzed against the polished mahogany.

It was an unknown local number.

Irritated and exhausted, Hackett glared at it, fully intending to ignore what he assumed was a spam call. But some desperate instinct made him swipe to answer. His voice was raw with fatigue and lingering fury.

"Yes?"

"Who is this?"

A young, calm, and ruthlessly professional male voice answered.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Sloan."

"Apologies for the intrusion. I am Lennox, executive assistant to Mr. Callahan Langley of Langley Group."

Langley Group?

Why on earth would Callahan Langley's right-hand man be calling him?

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