The Killer Queen by Noella Briony

Chapter 162

Tristan strode up to Noella, his hands bracing against the desk as he fixed his gaze on Marcel.

“Dad! Are you even aware of what kind of hellhole Lockhart Prison is? Jasper nearly lost his life there last time! Noella’s just a kid. How can you even think of sending her to such a place? Noella might not have been raised by our side, but she’s still the one and only daughter of the Schnabel family! You only have one granddaughter. How can you be so heartless?”

Marcel retorted angrily. “Are you suggesting I’m intentionally putting Noella in harm’s way? This is about what really happened to your mother. If it weren’t for that unfortunate incident, neither your mother nor Noella would have had to endure so much hardship!”

Tristan was stunned. “My… my mom? Dad, are you saying you know who my mom is?”

Marcel glanced at him irritably. “I haven’t laid a finger on Ashlyn since we were married, and you think I won’t know who your mother is?”

He just needed some concrete evidence to support his suspicions, but both Merrick and Sexton were being evasive. Those two old foxes wouldn’t utter a peep!

Thankfully, Noella had brought the DNA test results.

Tristan, looking at the paternity test report on the desk and hearing Noella say it was a test between him and Grandma Harriet, was completely dumbfounded!

He embraced Noella in a bear hug, sobbing. “Sweetheart! Thank you for always being there for your grandma!*

Noella, a bit helpless, patted Tristan’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

Marcel snorted coldly. “I’ve made arrangements at Lockhart Prison. Palmer will accompany Noella. Nothing will happen.”

Tristan straightened up suddenly. “Dad, why didn’t you say you had everything under control? You had me worried sick! I knew you wouldn’t harm Noella. For a moment there, I thought you were Wolf.”

Marcel, at the end of his patience, snapped, “Get out!”

Stepping out of Marcel’s study, Noella received a call from Nyssa.

“Ms. Schnabel, could you swing by the gallery? There’s a situation here that needs your attention. A new gallery opened across the street run by Yvonne Gruber, and she’s been stirring up trouble with our gallery ever since you’ve been away!”

“Alright.”

Hanging up, Noella left the Schnabel estate and got into the car driven by Alkaid.

The traffic in Imperial City was a nightmare, especially during rush hour and holidays.

detour down a side street. Glancing in the rear–view mirror, he said, “Boss,

got a tail.”

“Shake them off.”

and after a few impressively executed drifts,

even trying to ram Noella’s vehicle! After the first unsuccessful attempt,

scoffed. Did they really think a car modified by Polaris Star could be so easily wrecked?

“Boss, hold tight!”

several motorcycles emerged from an intersection, trapping the pursuing car in

kid?

icy as she glanced at the

better off on a motorcycle. We’ll handle this and

long legs over a motorcycle parked by the road, and

gallery, Jarred and Nyssa waited

the way, right?”

just called Ms. Schnabel, and she said she’d be here in five minutes, but looking at today’s traffic map, everything’s jammed up. She’s

the throng of people outside the rival gallery, grew

show up soon, those folks might start trashing our place. Maybe we should call Rising Glory for

will Ms. Schnabel ever stand on her own two feet? Even if they’re all family, the gallery is Ms. Schnabel’s business. If she doesn’t reach out to Rising Glory, we can’t overstep our bounds.”

but continued to watch the other side with a tense expression. Noella did not appear for a long

10:57

fur draped over her shoulders, resembling a walking taking fox. Yvonne, in her high heels, approached the entrance of the gallery, her chin Uted in disdain

well, look at Noella’s little watchdogs. What’s the matter? Too scared to open up shop because of

than a country bumpkin. When the Schnabel family realized her worth and regretted their choices, both the Schnabel and Gruber

and regretted their decisions, she would make Noella pay for every single compromise she had

this is our turf. We can stand wherever we damn

arm swung up landing a stinging slap across Jarred’s face! “Loudmouthed mutt, do you even

by the

crowd; was she lacking in manners or just out of her

principle of not causing any trouble for Ms. Schnabel, Jarred bit his tongue and stayed silent.

his silence for fear and

sense of superiority.

noise erupted from behind. A teal

motorcycle was decked out in sporty gear, with a pink helmet atop her head. As she removed it, her hair cascaded down, the sunlight seemingly orchestrated to accentuate her cool and dashing