The Killer Queen (Noella Briony)

Chapter 158

In Emerald County, Elara clung to Noella, her grip tight around her waist, reluctant to let go.

“Why do you have to leave so soon? Don’t you like it here?”

Emerald County might only be a small town, but thanks to the research facility and the nearby academy, the local economy was booming. The Schnabel family had made quite a few shrewd investments, and the town had all the amenities one could ask for.

“I do like it here. It’s just that there’s something I need to handle back in Imperial City.”

“What’s the matter? Is it about the art gallery or the music store? Can’t you let the brothers take care of it for you? Noella, don’t be shy, I’ll talk to them for you!”

Noella quickly grabbed Elara’s hand, which seemed ready to spring into action.

“It’s Master Killian calling me back.”

Elara knew that Master Killian was Noella’s mentor, with an unrivaled reputation in the world of oil painting. She wouldn't want to risk Noella's future by selfishly keeping her in Emerald County.

Her sister was a painting prodigy, after all!

Elara’s spirits dampened, her head drooping onto Noella’s shoulder as she took a deep whiff of her sister's scent, almost like a cat with catnip.

“Alright, I just can’t bear to see you go.”

Noella gently patted Elara's shoulder, promising to return for another visit. Only then did Elara reluctantly release her.

As Noella’s car disappeared in the distance, Elara’s smile faded, replaced by a profound sense of loneliness.

Back in her modest dorm, Elara found her desk cluttered with gifts! There were notes on boxes of pastries from Sienna, presents from her brothers, and treats from the old gents. And there, in the center, was a family portrait featuring everyone from the Schnabel family, all beaming, including her. The family portrait on her phone didn’t include her, but the one in her hands did. All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

Mixed emotions swirled in Elara’s heart, but before she could sort them out, her phone rang, and a warm, honest voice on the other end came through.

“Ms. Schnabel, I’m the manager of the diner across from your lab. I’ll be delivering your meals from now on. I already know about your favorite dishes—you won't have to worry about a thing. I'll make sure you're well-fed!”

Elara was puzzled. “How do you know what I like?”

“Ms. Noella told me. She said you might forget to eat when you’re buried in your experiments, and we can’t have that! Ms. Noella and Sienna want to see videos of you eating your meals, so you'll need to cooperate with me, okay?”

After hanging up, Elara flipped the family portrait and read Beckett's bold handwriting on the back.

[Elara, you will always be a part of the Schnabel family. We all love you.]

Holding back tears, Elara felt a rush of warmth amid her sobs.

...

Meanwhile, Vincent settled into a local hospital, his body swathed in bandages, resembling a mummy on the move. Belinda and the Fullers were no better off, all lying in their beds grumbling

and groaning.

Vincent, checking his phone, muttered, “Why hasn’t anyone contacted me today? Didn’t they see the trending topic I bought? Noella must’ve missed it.”

Malcom Fuller grumbled, “Stop looking at that and find Ellsworth, will you?”

They had just realized that Ellsworth, who had been with them earlier, had vanished without a trace. He was their golden grandchild, but Vincent was too preoccupied with Noella, completely disregarding his elders.

Debbie’s phone rang with a blaring tone, the sound of the old-fashioned device echoing through the small-town hospital ward.

“Ellsworth’s family? I’m calling from the Emerald County Police Department. Ellsworth was caught last night for burglary. You should come down to the station to discuss his situation.”

Debbie nearly fainted. “Officer, my grandson wouldn’t steal! He’s such a good boy.”

“You’ll see when you get here.”

After the call ended, Debbie’s wails filled the room, “Oh, my poor grandson!”

Vincent, covering his ears, scrolled through his messages, spotting a new one.

[I’d like to purchase the bracelet. Name your price.]

Fighting his excitement, Vincent quickly replied: [The bracelet’s worth seven figures!]

[Deal. Contact me once you have it.]

Vincent’s heart raced at the prospect of a buyer, but the bracelet was still with Noella.

A cruel glint in his eye, he whispered, “Accidents happen all the time. If one were to happen to her, the bracelet would be mine.”

...

Back in Imperial City at the Schnabel Manor, no sooner had Noella stepped through the door than her brother Jasper gestured for silence.

“Shh, Grandpa just went to sleep.”

“What’s wrong with Grandpa? Is he ill?”

Jasper was about to whisk Noella off to his room to discuss family matters when Marcel, draped in a coat, appeared.

“Noella, you’re back. How’s Elara? Why didn’t you stay longer?”

“She’s fine, told us not to worry about her. Master Killian asked me to come back. He said there was an issue.”

Marcel nodded, understanding that Master Killian’s request was always serious. Then his gaze fell on the bracelet on Noella's wrist.

“That bracelet... How did it end up with you?”

Marcel's eyes sparkled with tears as he clasped Noella's wrist, gazing at the familiar bracelet. In a flash, tears coursed down his cheeks.

Noella exclaimed, "Grandpa, what’s wrong?"

Hearing the commotion, the Schnabel family rushed out from the house, shocked at the sight of Marcel's emotional state.

"Dad, what's happening?" they asked in unison.

Sienna eyed the bracelet on Noella's wrist, her brows knitting together in concern. "Noella, where did you get this bracelet?"

Noella, puzzled, replied, "It was my grandmother's. She left it to me. Is there something wrong?"

Grandmother?

Was she referring to Old Mrs. Lambert?

A realization dawned on Marcel, and he turned to Noella, his voice trembling with urgency, "The grandmother you're speaking of, was her name Harriet Lambert?"

Noella nodded, gently guiding the nearly distraught Marcel to sit on the couch.

"Yes, how do you know my grandmother's name?"

Marcel looked at Noella, his eyes filled with sorrow and an unspoken hope. "She... she passed away?"

"Yes, last year. She fell ill and passed. Grandpa, did you know my grandma?"

"Last year? It was last year! Harriet, oh Harriet, you kept this from me for so many years!"

Tears streamed down Marcel's face, his emotions raw and uncontainable.

"Noella, do you have a photo of your grandmother?"

"I do."

Noella took out her phone and, under Marcel's expectant gaze, found all the photos she had taken of Old Mrs. Lambert.

The old man, with reading glasses perched on his nose, scrolled through each photo, his eyes softening with each image.

There were many pictures in the phone, capturing moments from Old Mrs. Lambert's life. As Marcel reached the photos of her in sickness, he wept anew.

"Noella, can you tell me how you've been all these years?"

Noella sat beside Marcel, selecting a few stories to share. "Grandma loved me dearly. If it weren't for her, I might not have made it through my childhood."

Marcel nodded, his face etched with melancholy, seemingly aging twenty years in those moments.

"Harriet, could it be that you never forgave me?"