The Killer Queen ( Noella Briony ) novel Chapter 227

In the sleek, dark offices of the Pollack Group, a man in a meticulously tailored black suit exuded a chilling aura, his arms crossed as he faced the overreaching middle-aged man before him.

Palmer slowly removed his gold-rimmed spectacles, which served a purpose beyond aiding his vision, and methodically polished them with a cloth.

"Your demands are simply ludicrous. It seems you might have had one too many at the pub last night. If you are facing any mental afflictions, I wouldn't mind arranging some professional help for you."

Eamon Pollack's face shifted through a spectrum of colors.

"My dear nephew, the company is a big pie, and it's not just for you to carve up. I'm merely asking for my fair share of the stocks," Eamon insisted.

The majority stake in the Pollack Group was firmly in Palmer's grasp, with a significant portion allocated to Sexton and only scraps left for everyone else. Eamon's eyes were set on the slice of the pie held by Sexton.

Palmer sneered with contempt. "Dream on!"

Eamon slammed his fist on the table, his corpulent frame quivering with rage.

Moments later, he scoffed. "My dear nephew, you're riding high now, but would your little lady friend feel the same?"

Palmer's brow furrowed instantly. "What are you implying?"

Reading Palmer's reaction like a book, Eamon knew he'd hit a nerve.

"Hah, my naive nephew, as your elder, I think it's time I teach you a lesson. To truly steer the ship, you can't afford weaknesses. I'll relieve you of this burden, and you should thank me for it!"

Eamon's expression turned sinister. "My dear nephew, it's your own high-profile antics that put Ms. Schnabel in the spotlight. If you hadn't flaunted her at the auction, I wouldn't know where your affections lie."

He was about to add more when a sudden, severe pain shot through his leg!

Looking down, Eamon saw the gun pointed at him and his own thigh bleeding profusely. Palmer's eyes were filled with murderous intent, striking fear into Eamon's heart.

Gritting his teeth, Palmer hissed, "Uncle Eamon, if a single hair falls from Noella's head, I will hold you and your entire family accountable!"

The fear in Eamon's heart was indescribable. He realized at that moment that Palmer's previous inaction wasn't due to lack of courage. Palmer's methods were far more terrifying than Eamon and his associates could have ever imagined.

Discarding Eamon's trembling body, Palmer strode out of the office, his pace urgent. He rushed to the parking lot, slammed the car into gear, and sped off.

After several unanswered calls to Noella, despite knowing she was more than capable of taking care of herself and should have someone with her, Palmer's heart refused to settle.

Memories of his youth flashed before his eyes as he saw the same scene unfold once more.

With clammy hands gripping the steering wheel, he drove relentlessly until he reached the antique shop.

Megrez was whistling while hosing down bloodstains on the stairs. The sight of Palmer's car pulling up, and Palmer emerging with an aura of fury, sent a shiver down Megrez's spine.

Was Vocalist here seeking retribution against their boss? Or had he finally figured out their boss was a swindler?

Determined to be a loyal henchman, Megrez stammered, "Vocalist… Mr. Pollack! Boss isn't… isn't here…"

Palmer's gaze swept past Megrez, focusing intently on the interior of the shop.

There, in the sunlight, sat a wicker chair gently rocking. A delicate hand stroked a cat nestled in the lap of a lady who turned her head slightly, yawning, her eyes misting over with drowsiness.

"Palmer? What brings you here?"

Palmer stood still, ensuring the scene before him was without flaws before approaching. He knelt on one knee before the wicker chair, and the cat, sensing the scent of blood, leapt away.

"Are you alright?"