The Killer Queen ( Noella Briony ) novel Chapter 238

Larson’s reputation was severely tarnished., and he held the party just to turn the tables.

He had meticulously laid a trap throughout his sprawling estate, waiting for the moment Palmer would fall from grace and be absolutely staying.

"Palmer, didn't your old man ever teach you that you need hard evidence in everything you do? I'm just as heartbroken over Eamon's accident as anyone. Today's gala is to clear the air; I had nothing to do with his tragedy!"

Larson's voice boomed across the room, his arms raised high to ensure everyone heard his declaration.

"You're saying Uncle Eamon's fall from grace has nothing to do with you. Then who's it tied to?" Palmer's question was the cue Larson had been waiting for.

"Who else would benefit from our dear Eamon's downfall? Surely, you've got a clearer picture than I do, Palmer?"

Palmer chuckled nonchalantly, "Actually, I brought a surprise for you, Uncle Larson. I'm sure you'll appreciate it."

"A surprise?" Larson was confused.

The grand screen in the banquet hall showcased Larson's rise to power. To ensure his innocence and influence on all the participants, he even played a clip of Larson shaking hands with a former head of state.

With a clap from Palmer, the video on the screen shifted from Larson hobnobbing with military bigwigs to Eamon, who was covered with blood.

A collective gasp rose from the audience. They were clearly shocked by the gruesome sight of Eamon. Eamon was lying in a pool of blood, his eyes bulging and face pale, and muttering a haunting phrase over and over, "Larson, I've been nothing but good to you! Why would you do this to me? Trying to frame Palmer with my death—ha! I'll be waiting for you in the hell!"

Eamon's bitter and resentful words echoed throughout the hall.

A voice piped up next to Noella, "Yikes, that video is seriously creepy."

All Eamon left was that sentence, while the video just looped inside the hall. That, coupled with Eamon's enraged expression, was indeed hard to stomach.

Noella turned to see Malvina, stuffing a cream-filled pastry into her mouth with little concern for decorum.

"How'd you get in here?" she asked.

"Just grabbing something from Luther!"

Noella eyed Malvina's casual hoodie and jeans topped with sneakers – hardly gala attire. And above all, it was a wonder she got past the front door.

"How'd you manage that?" Noella pressed.

Malvina nodded towards Ulrich, now engrossed in the video, "Ran into Dr. Schnabel on my way here. He brought me along!"

Ulrich cut an elegant figure despite his lack of formal wear, his black trench coat exuding a scholarly charm that drew attention.

Ulrich, analyzing Eamon in the video, came to a conclusion, "Looks like someone wanted to torture him and make him bleed out. What a vendetta! And they're brothers, no less. Astonishing."

"His ulna, distal radial joint, and the humerus have more than one gunshot wound, but none of them critical. Larson is a good shot, " he added.

Larson was in a state of panic. He scrambled to shut off the video, but the damage was done. The guests' gazes had changed. What was this gala really about? Flaunting the murder of his own brother and pinning it on Palmer?

Noella feigned concern, "Beckett. Do you think Larson's trying to intimidate us? Like we're going to end up like that if we don't play ball with him or something."

Malvina was quick to dismiss the notion, "No way! Larson's not like that. He only takes shots at his own kin. Poor Palmer, though, taking such a heat at his age. It's not good for the spine."

Beckett nodded in agreement, "Don't worry. We'll steer clear of Larson. The Schnabel family's loyalty lies with Palmer alone. I also wouldn't dare cooperate with a man who could kill his own brother."

Their words echoed through the crowd and stroked their chords.