The Killer Queen by Noella Briony

Chapter 82

Noella only realized when she got out of the car that the music store Merrick had described as “sort of” actually took up a whole quaint little building right smack in the middle of Imperial. City’s busiest commercial street.

The place was a full six stories of musical heaven. Whether it was a zither, piano, or guitar, they had everything on and off the market.

They even had a lineup of instruments signed by the masters themselves. Pianos that international maestros had tickled the ivories on were just gathering dust in the corners here.

Noella stood at the entrance of the music store and was lost for words.

The gallery next door, the one the old man had lumped on her along with the music store, was already on Yasbel’s radar.

Polaris Star had wanted to snap it up and run it themselves, but Yasbel was playing hardball.

Beckett pointed to the jade sculptures at the entrance and said, “That’s a masterpiece by the carving legend, Master Sylvie. I had to fork out a pretty penny to snag it at the auction.”

Noella’s gaze fell on the all–too–familiar sculpture, and she went even quieter.

Those statues by the doors of the music store and gallery were her handiwork; carved during a data bottleneck at Polaris Star when she needed to cool off and rethink things. And even such pieces had fetched a cool 30 million at auction.

Beckett ushered Noella into the music store, and the bustling clerks all paused from their tasks. Beckett took Noella’s hand and introduced her, “From now on, this music store is Noella’s. She’s your boss. Got it?”

The clerks exchanged glances, sensing something unusual in the air.

The young lady took over such a fancy joint right after coming back, so Merrick must think the world of her.

“Yes, Mr. Schnabel.” They replied.

Beckett waved over, and two suit–clad gents scurried over with fawning grins plastered on their faces, “Noella, meet Terrell, the manager of the music shop. And this is Travis, manager of the gallery next door. If you need anything, these are the guys to talk to.”

Noella nodded, going through the motions of meeting the team with Beckett.

After Beckett chatted with the managers about the latest quarter’s financial of music store and gallery, he turned to find Noella standing in front of a zither.

The zither was Master Rainer’s handiwork, priceless, and only on display in Merrick’s music store because the old man had begged and borrowed it, only to have to return it next month.

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Chapter 82

a star under the perfectly adjusted lights of the store. Her dress was shimmering as if sprinkled with stardust.

breathtaking, and Beckett couldn’t resist whipping out his phone to capture the beauty before his eyes.

thought, he shot that fairy–like pic

like a little fairy from

sis fancy that zither, Beckett? Could we

[I’ll touch base with Master Rainer right away, see

buy them all, heck, just gift–wrap the whole store for her. If you guys are short on cash, I’ll foot the bill. You men are a bunch

charged like a standoff at

men were all fired up with a burning desire to splurge.

Talk about throwing

store, had pretty much run the show since Merrick rarely intervened and Beckett wasn’t

his eyes, Noella was nothing

She probably doesn’t even know the

zither was personally crafted by Rainer. It’s one of a kind, so please be careful.” he thus

up, giving Terrell in his sharp suit a nonchalant

all precious, and this one before you is the crown jewel. If you damage it, we’d be in hot water with Master Rainer.”

less than friendly look, “My sister’s liking

but couldn’t hide

probably doesn’t know what a zither was, yet she still wants to run

What a joke.

in front of the zither, casually remarking. “If it’s so precious, why hasn’t anyone fixed contrabass strings

Master Rainer’s creation, and we

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you are not fixing them, that’s fine. But why didn’t your clean its whole soundboard

perfect. He used the best. materials. And she’d hand–carved the soundboard’s pattern for

his zither.” As she spoke, Noella effortlessly opened a toolbox on the floor and began meticulously restoring the zither. She was carefully maintaining the strings to ensure the old man’s

Terrell, “Terrell, I

are said to be unplayable by anyone. We never play it,

finish his sentence, the melodious sound

with nails that were just the right length and sported a soft pink hue. The music flowed in waves, as soothing and refreshing as a cool breeze under a bright moon, which made everyone around

he didn’t forget to record