The Killer Queen

“The Schnabel family is steeped in culture and high society. Where did this wild and unruly girl come from, daring to butt in even on my own sister? Just looking at her brings bad vibes.”

Stirling, with a flourish, served Noella a bowl of soup using the fancy gold–plated serving spoon. rolling his beautiful eyes in the process.

“Seriously, who knows who’s fresh off the turnip truck, being spoon–fed by Mother Nature herself. With your bumpkin vibes, you could go back to the countryside and get straight onto farming.”

Yvonne was at a loss for words. Her hands, clad in lace–trimmed white gloves, tightened around the hem of her dress, her facial expression contorting.

“Stirling. Jasper, I’m just looking out for Noella. Why are you being like this? I’m part of the Schnabel family, too. I just want us to be a harmonious and beautiful family. Grandma was worried about Noella not knowing the ropes and sent me here on purpose.”

When Ashlyn was mentioned, everyone held their tongues.

Yvonne was an outsider, but Ashlyn was, after all, their elder.

The Schnabel family was all about strict upbringing; elders were to be respected.

Tristan waved his hand impatiently. “Noella’s got her head on straight; she’s awesome. The whole family adores her. Just head back, will you? Don’t disrupt our family dinner.”

Yvonne’s eyes bulged in disbelief. She had deliberately stood at the entrance for half an hour. timing her entrance with dinner, just to show off her impeccable table manners compared to country–bumpkin Noella.

That way, the Schnabels would see that she was the perfect fit for the family.

Why do they still side with Noella, knowing full well she was rough around the edges?

Was this all about blood? So what if she didn’t have it?

Yvonne, her face burning with shame, stormed out.

Ulrich, with his golden hands, peeled a plate of crab meat for Noella and passed it over with a beaming smile. “Give it a try.”

The crab meat was succulent, the roe rich and flavorful.

“Delicious,” said Noella.

Tristan smiled. “Honey, just tell us whatever you like. As Jasper said, from now on, you will set the rules in this house. Mom and Dad will listen to you.”

Sienna said lovingly, “Don’t take Yvonne’s words to heart. She’s no relation to our family. She bears the Schnabel surname because your grandma does. You’re the only daughter of our

household.”

Noella nodded, feeling the warmth of the Schnabels‘ protection–something she had never experienced in eighteen years with the Lambert family.

“Thanks, Mom, Dad, and brothers. I’ll remember that.”

Yvonne left in a huff, not a single tear on her face.

Hunger pangs gnawing at her stomach, she wandered through the vast Schnabel garden. nearly getting lost.

Seeing a group of servants planting new flowers. Yvonne asked curiously, “What’s going on here?”

The servants replied with a smile, “Ms. Yvonne, Ms. Noella likes roses. Mr. Tristan has ordered us to clear all the flowers in this courtyard and plant roses for her. Oh, and the lilies over there. are to be removed too. Mr. Tristan bought some red maple trees from Kanada, and we’re planting them soon.”

Yvonne was stunned. Those lilies were her favorite!

She would swing among them every year. How could everything be snatched away just because of Noella’s arrival?

Green with envy, Yvonne scurried off to call Elara.

“Elara, come back home, quick! There’s trouble. Mom, Dad, and the bros have lost it!”

Elara replied indifferently, “That’s it?”

Yvonne, frantic, her eyes darting around, finally blurted out with determination, “Elara, don’t you want to know why you were switched at birth?”

Elara, eyeing her experimental data, retorted, “As if you can find something out with your brains. Go work off some of that extra energy by exercising; there’s no saving your brain.”

Hanging up, Yvonne’s face twisted in rage!

Damn Elara, always at odds with her since childhood, nothing but a bookworm!

Stomping her feet, Yvonne dashed off toward Ashlyn’s place.

At the Heartfelt Orphanage

Noella was barely eighteen and had no time to get her driver’s license.

Though she could drive, she didn’t want to worry the Schnabels, so she took a cab to the orphanage.

The orphanage was in the suburbs, surrounded by a private estate with a vast rose garden and

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a verkable sea of flowers.

As Noelia entered the orphanage, a piercing gunshot rang out. Her instincts had her swiftly pressing against the wall concealing hersel

Assassins hurried past, cursing, “Damn that Vocalist, stealing our alas again!” Nôvel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.

“When did Vocalist get to Harmonia Country? If we’d known he was here, we’d never have taken the job.”

“Zip it. If he spots us, we’re goners, tool

The hitmen were well–trained and quick on their feet, but not quicker than Vocalist’s bullets.

Gunshots streaked across the sky, and the four assassins dropped dead.

Palmer emerged from the shadows, the sunlight catching his handsome features. He was dressed in a vintage vest and suit jacket, his tie unruffled by the shooting.

“We meet again, Wise Fool.”

Noella glanced at Palmer, her brow furrowing slightly. “You here on business?”

Palmer shrugged. “I live nearby. Saw some commotion and thought I’d kill some time.”

Noella was at a loss for words.

Living nearby? With all the desolate villages and private estates around, hitmen were those desperate to make a buck with their lives on the line. Vocalist must be one of the local poor folk.

“The target?”

Palmer wasn’t stingy with what he had learned. “The director of Heartfelt Orphanage. Client unknown, order taken by the Cerulean Whale organization.”

Realizing the gravity of the situation, Noella turned on her heel and strode into the orphanage. In the orphanage, the director’s office was deserted, papers scattered all over the floor.

Palmer piped up from behind her. “What are you digging into? I can lend a hand.”

“Some old memories. I used to live here.”

A flicker of pity flashed through Palmer’s handsome eyes.

With Noella’s combat skills through the roof, even if he went toe–to–toe with her, Palmer couldn’t guarantee walking away unscathed. Those moves didn’t seem like something you’d get from just any household.

So, she was an orphan?

Noella didn’t find the files she needed and stood up with a sigh.

“I bet someone knew you’d show up and cleared the place out in advance. Swear, when I got

here, it was already a ghost town.”

Noella turned around, surprised at Palmer.

TRIPE

“I’m not casting any shade on you. If you had a hand in this, I wouldn’t have found jack squat.”

For Palmer, that was a compliment. He grinned, a warm smile that was as pleasant as a gentle breeze. “Let me give you a lift. It’s kinda out of the way here, and your pad is a bit of a hike.”

Noella didn’t say no and followed Palmer out of the Heartfelt Orphanage.

On the roadside was a dusty old Volkswagen sedan parked next to a Bentley twinkling with

bling.

Noella approached the Volkswagen and asked, “This your ride? I’ll cover the fare.”

Palmer was speechless.

He looked into Noella’s eyes, bright as glass marbles, as if he had spotted the most splendid peach blossoms on a spring day.

Palmer clenched his teeth and said gently, “Hold on, let me grab the keys.”

Turning away, he dialed up his butler, “Bring me the keys for that heap of metal parked by the curb.”

The butler, confused, asked, “Huh? The Volkswagen’s what our maid uses for grocery runs. You need it?

“Five minutes. The keys.”

“Right away, sir. Just a moment.”

After handing over the keys, the butler watched his boss peel away in the beat–up Volkswagen, his gaze drifting to the luxurious Bentley.

It must be that Bentley wasn’t up to snuff, and that was why the boss wasn’t into it!

It had been years since Palmer drove a stick shift.

A little way down the road, Noella finally looked at him. “You played me last time.”

Palmer just smiled. “Not really, but I do really want you to join Abyssal Organization – no joke. You’ve got a killer charm, the most badass femme fatale I’ve ever met, and Abyssal Organization needs you.”

It was the first time Noella had heard such a blunt statement. Her face felt hot, and she turned to look out the window.

Palmer, ever considerate, rolled down her window. “You cold?”

The outside breeze rushed in, cooling Noella’s cheeks, quite refreshing.

“Thanks.”

Not cold, but her face was definitely hotter.

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

“Anytime, waiting on pins and needles.”