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AliNovel > The Killer Queen (Noella Briony) > CHapter 142

CHapter 142

    CHapter 142


    Yvonne was at her wit’s end!


    Her looks and upbringing were all superior to Noe’s. Yvonne had been received top–notch


    education since she was in diapers, so how on earth was Noe, that backwoods bumpkin,


    outshining her?


    Staring at her phone, she could see the marketing teams under Stirling’smand were practically


    rocketing Noe’s artwork to the stars!


    Yvonne felt a pang of heartache so acute it was as if her heart was bleeding. Her gaze shifted to


    Ashlyn, whose breathing was fragile and weak, and a wave of self–pity washed over her.


    Why should Noe be out there living it up while she was stuck in this sterile hospital, keeping


    company with an old woman who was more dead than alive?


    Now that Ashlyn had divorced Marcel, the title of being rted to her meant nothing to Yvonne


    anymore. With a look of cold indifference, Yvonne stood up from beside Ashlyn’s ICU bed and


    walked out without a backward nce.


    She was expected to stay here with this old woman while the Schnabel family was ready to ship her


    off to Gerastor, never to return? Fat chance!


    Yvonne called Walden once again, “Walden, let’s revisit ourst conversation, shall we? I assure


    you, there won’t be any slip–ups this time!”


    “Find yourself somewhere to stay. I’ll get back to you,” Walden said, ready to hang up, but Yvonne


    quickly added, “I’m…out of money.”


    “You’re the daughter of the Schnabel family, and you don’t even have enough to cover a hotel stay?


    Fine, I’ll transfer some to you.”


    Walden frowned, his eyes filled with disdain and revulsion. To think a daughter of the Schnabel


    family had fallen this low; clearly, her brains were just for show.


    After the call, Yvonne nced at her ount bnce, freshly padded with funds, and left the


    hospital without a second look.


    Meanwhile, Noe was coborating with Master Killian on a painting, and word had already spread


    throughout the industry.


    When Annie handed Palmer the phone, he was in the midst of a merger meeting, calcting


    financial risks with his partners, all of whom were on the edge of their seats. Suddenly, they saw


    their stone–faced, iron–willed boss break into a smile – a tender, adoring smile that seemed to melt


    in the warmth of his gaze. A chill ran down the spines of everyone present.


    After Annie exined that the boss’s fiancée, Noe Schnabel of the Schnabel family, was a direct


    mentee of Master Killian, it all made sense.


    No wonder their boss showed such a gentle side when it came to Noe. A socialite as talented as


    her was bound to be Palmer’s pride and joy.


    The partners began to whisper among themselves,


    “I caught Ms. Schnabel’s birthday live stream; the Schnabels certainly dote on their daughter.”


    “Joking aside, if your kid was that aplished, wouldn’t you dote on them?”


    “If my daughter was Master Killian’s mentee and any single person in Imperial City didn’t know


    about it, I’d say I failed in my PR duties!”


    Palmer, watching Noe in the video, thought she looked just as lovely painting. Her arm muscles


    moved with grace and elegance, each gesture like a dance of the sprites.


    “Save the video,”


    Since he couldn’t be there in person, he wanted to savor the sight of his girl shining brightly.


    “It’s already saved, and I’ve selected the best shots from the media for your phone,” Annie


    confirmed professionally.


    Palmer nodded, satisfied, and returned to his meeting – albeit at a noticeably faster pace. It was


    clear to all that the boss was eager to wrap up.


    What was supposed to be a three–hour asset evaluation was done in half an hour. Palmer, signing


    documents, asked curtly. “What time is it?”


    RêAdt??St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only


    “Six o’clock. The exhibition is over, and Ms. Noe hasn’t left work yet. Master Killian has already


    gone home,” Annie reported.


    Palmer capped his pen and pushed the signed papers forward. As the partners looked up, Palmer’s


    silhouette had already vanished from the conference room!


    The gallery exhibition wrapped up quickly.


    The media reluctantly left the venue, many hoping to interview Noe, but Stirling, the super–


    popr star and first–ever grand m best actor winner, gracefully deflected them. His mere smile


    satisfied the eager cameras. In showbiz, Stirling was the epitome of someone with incrediblyrge


    fan bases.


    After the media flurry, Beckett saw the elders off.


    Marcel, beaming with pride, patted Noe’s hand, “Noe, you’ve done well. But don’t overdo it;


    you’re the youngest of our family. There’s no need to push yourself so hard, though I am proud of


    you!”


    Tristan chimed in, “Your mom and I are proud of you too! But don’t wear yourself out. If the gallery


    needs anything,e to me directly. You don’t need to worry about any trivial matter.”


    11:22


    He’d just taken the opportunity to scour the gallery’s ounts, looking for any discrepancies to


    protect his precious daughter, but found she’d managed everything perfectly. His daughter was


    practically the one and the only genius!


    “I got it. I’m not tired.”


    After the Schnabels left, a cluster of artists lingered by Noe’s paintings, not wanting to leave.


    “Ms. Schnabel, could we possibly join the gallery? We’re here to learn, and we don’t need to be


    paid!”


    “Yes, Ms. Schnabel, just being able to study Master Killian’s work would be enough. We don’t need


    sries!”


    Noe nced at the group of artists before her.


    “Those interested, send your resumes to my email. If you’re a good fit, I’ll invite you through the


    proper channels, and you will be paid fairly.”


    She was not the kind of boss who exploited her staff.


    “Alright, we’ll send them right away!”


    Travis approached Noe, his face alight with excitement, “Ms. Schnabel, today’s exhibition was a


    smashing sess. Your coboration piece with Master Killian is now hanging in the prime spot.”


    “Thank you for your hard work.”


    Noe strode into her office, trading her evening gown for a sharp business suit. Tying her misty


    locks into a tight bun, she exuded an authoritative aura.


    She picked up the report form on her desk, noting a few figures circled in red ink by someone, each


    followed by new data precise to three decimal ces.


    A sticky note with a cartoon bear fluttered to the floor.


    “Sweetheart, found some tiny issues with the numbers, but I’ve fixed them for you. Don’t work too


    hard! Love you – Dad.”


    A warm smile graced Noe’s lips. She wondered when Tristan had slipped into her office.


    The thought of him poring over report form and leaving her cute sticky notes while she was out


    warmed her heart.


    As dusk settled, Travis rapped on the ss door of the office, “Ms. Schnabel, everyone’s left for the


    day. You should head home, too.”


    “Alright, you go ahead. I’ll be out soon; just need to finish up here.”


    “Don’t overdo it, Ms. Schnabel!”


    Once Travis left, Noe turned her attention back to the data on the report, her brow furrowing


    slightly.


    11:23


    Her phone rang: she answered it on autopilot Palmer’s voice came through,


    “Still burning the midnight oltz Hit a snag?”


    Wrapping up now,”


    Noe stood, and turning, caught sight of a man standing across the street, in the night’s embrace,


    Palmer stood alone, an untouchable chill about him. But when his gaze met hers, stars seemed to


    fall, his eyes impossibly tender,


    “Have you been waiting long?”


    “Just five minutes. I’m taking you out for dinner. I don’t mind my fiancée being a workshots, but you


    still need to eat,”


    Noe flicked off the office lights and made her way downstairs. In the darkness, her voice carried a


    yful lilt, “Beckett thinks you might prefer a domestic goddess.”


    Beckett wasn’t wrong; most heirs to prominent families married genteel, nurturing women.


    Palmer’s deep chuckle filled Noe’s ears, “I don’t do well withbels, but I’m not drawn to power


    women or domestic goddesses; I’m drawn to you, and only you. It’s not about social rotes.”


    His words wrapped around her like a caress, a whisper shared between loved ones in the quiet of


    the night.
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