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

got a tail.”

“Shake them off.”

after a few impressively executed drifts, they left

pursue them relentlessly, even trying to ram Noella’s vehicle! After the first unsuccessful attempt, the car

modified by

“Boss, hold tight!”

few counter–strikes, several motorcycles emerged from an intersection, trapping the pursuing car

just some high school kid? This show of force

car, her gaze icy as

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

legs over a motorcycle parked by the road,

Nyssa waited anxiously

on the

be here in five minutes, but looking at today’s

outside

start trashing our place. Maybe we should call Rising Glory

for every little thing, how will Ms. Schnabel ever stand on her own two feet? Even if they’re all

side with a tense expression. Noella did not appear for a long time, and the event at the rival gallery was

10:57

in a frilly pink dress emerged from the crowd, a full fox fur draped over her shoulders, resembling a walking taking fox. Yvonne, in her high heels, approached the entrance of the gallery, her

Noella’s little watchdogs. What’s the matter? Too scared to open up shop because of the noise

would blindside Noela, who was nothing more than a country bumpkin. When the Schnabel family realized

potential and regretted their decisions, she would make Noella pay for every single compromise she had ever made!

is our turf. We can stand wherever we

slap across Jarred’s face! “Loudmouthed mutt, do you even know who you’re talking to?”

the

was she lacking in manners

not causing any trouble for Ms. Schnabel, Jarred bit

mistook his silence for fear and

sense of superiority.

poised to slap Nyssa, a rumbling noise erupted from behind. A teal motorcycle zipped by like lightning in the jungle, pulling up at the curb.

pink helmet atop her head. As she removed it, her hair cascaded down, the sunlight seemingly orchestrated to accentuate her cool and dashing