The Killer Queen (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.

Alkaid took a detour down a side street. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, he said, "Boss, we've got a tail."

"Shake them off."

Alkaid floored the gas pedal, and after a few impressively executed drifts, they left nothing but a cloud of exhaust fumes behind them.

A car continued to pursue them relentlessly, even trying to ram Noella's vehicle! After the first unsuccessful attempt, the car charged again for a second hit.

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

"Boss, hold tight!"

After a few counter-strikes, several motorcycles emerged from an intersection, trapping the pursuing car in the middle.

The driver of the pursuing car was bewildered. Wasn't the target just some high school kid? This show of force didn't look like anything a regular high school student could muster!

A composed young woman stepped out of the front car, her gaze icy as she glanced at the driver and said indifferently, "Clean this up."

"Got it, Boss. The traffic's too heavy out there. You're better off on a motorcycle. We'll handle this and make sure he spills everything."

Returning Alkaid's warm smile, Noella nodded, swung her long legs over a motorcycle parked by the road, and sped off down the alley.

...

Outside the gallery, Jarred and Nyssa waited anxiously at the entrance.

"Ms. Schnabel's on the way, right?"

"I 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 probably stuck in a traffic snarl!"

Nyssa, glancing at the throng of people outside the rival gallery, grew increasingly worried.

"If Ms. Schnabel doesn't show up soon, those folks might start trashing our place. Maybe we should call Rising Glory for help?"

Jarred remained composed. "If we run to Rising Glory for every little thing, 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 reach out to Rising Glory, we can't overstep our bounds."

Nyssa nodded but continued to watch the other side with a tense expression. Noella did not appear for a long time, and the event at the rival gallery was in full swing, drawing plenty of media attention.

A woman in a frilly pink dress emerged from the crowd, a full fox fur draped over her shoulders, resembling a walking, talking fox. Yvonne, in her high heels, approached the entrance of the gallery, her chin lifted in disdain as she regarded Jarred and Nyssa.

"Well, well, look at Noella's little watchdogs. What's the matter? Too scared to open up shop because of the noise from our grand opening?"

She had transformed into the darling daughter of the Gruber family, confident that her presence would blindside Noella, who was nothing more than a country bumpkin. When the Schnabel family realized her worth and regretted their choices, both the Schnabel and Gruber families would be at her feet.

Yvonne had it all planned out; once the Schnabel family saw her true potential and regretted their decisions, she would make Noella pay for every single compromise she had ever made!

Jarred's face was impassive as he said, "Ms. Gruber, this is our turf. We can stand wherever we damn well please."

Yvonne’s arm swung up, landing a stinging slap across Jarred's face! "Loudmouthed mutt, do you even know who you're talking to?"

Jarred, struck by the slap, was dazed.

Yvonne had lashed out in front of a crowd; was she lacking in manners or just out of her mind?

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

With no retort from Jarred, Yvonne mistook his silence for fear and lifted her chin, basking in a sense of superiority.

As she was 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.

The girl on the 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 presence.

Noella, with her slim waist and long legs, exuded a particular kind of vigor even while atop the motorcycle. Her stunning face was etched with frostiness as she looked down imperiously at Yvonne.

"And who might you be?"

Yvonne, seeing Noella's ride, was nearly beside herself with envy!

That was the latest model, retailing at a cool million, scarce enough that money alone couldn't bag one. With its custom symbols, it was obviously a gift from the Schnabel brothers!

Why should Noella so effortlessly have everything she had ever dreamed of?Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.

Grinding her teeth, Yvonne spat out, "Seems like Noella Schnabel forgets her own kin. How come you don’t recognize your own sister anymore? Are you singling me out on purpose?"

Noella gave her a dismissive glance. "What was your name again?"

"Yvonne Gruber!"

Yvonne was brimming with confidence, sure that the country bumpkin would be shocked to learn she'd been welcomed into the Gruber family as Arthur's granddaughter, probably causing her jaw to drop to the floor!

Noella looked at her as if she were looking at an idiot. "You're a Gruber, I'm a Schnabel, and you're claiming to be my sister? Ms. Gruber, seems like you've got a filthy mouth and a mind to match. Guess whatever you flushed down the toilet this morning ended up in your brain."

Yvonne was dumbfounded.

Had Noella lost her mind? Knowing she was a Gruber, how could Noella dare insult her? Didn't this hick realize the Gruber's standing in Imperial City? It had to be ignorance!

Shaking with rage, Yvonne’s face powder began to flake off as she pointed at Noella, unable to squeeze out a single word. "Noella Schnabel, the nerve! You've got no manners!"

Noella stepped off her bike, the keys jingling on her finger. She walked toward Yvonne, each step measured and deliberate.

Yvonne eyed her warily, an unexplainable trepidation creeping in—but surely it was just the bumpkin’s rude gaze.

Noella's hand flew up, and she returned the favor, her slap ballooning Yvonne's cheek!