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.

street. Glancing

got a tail.”

“Shake them off.”

few impressively executed drifts, they left nothing but a cloud of exhaust fumes

After

modified by

“Boss, hold tight!”

motorcycles emerged from an intersection, trapping the pursuing

bewildered. Wasn’t the target just some high school kid? This show of force didn’t look

gaze icy as she glanced at the

The traffic’s too heavy out there. You’re better off on a motorcycle. We’ll handle

her long legs over a motorcycle parked by

gallery, Jarred and Nyssa waited

on the way,

said she’d be here in five minutes, but looking at today’s traffic map, everything’s jammed

glancing at the throng of people outside the rival gallery, grew

might start trashing our place. Maybe we

how 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

a tense expression. Noella did not appear for a long time, and the event at the rival gallery was in full swing, drawing plenty

10:57

her shoulders, resembling a walking taking fox. Yvonne, in her high heels, approached the entrance of the gallery, her chin Uted in disdain as she regarded Jarred and Nyssa.

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

nothing more than a country bumpkin.

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

Gruber, this is our turf. We can stand wherever we

face! “Loudmouthed mutt, do you

the slap,

front of a crowd; was she lacking in manners or

principle of not causing any trouble for Ms.

no retort from Jarred, Yvonne mistook his silence for fear and lifted her chin,

sense of superiority.

from behind. A teal motorcycle zipped by like lightning in the jungle, pulling up at

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