The Killer Queen (Noella Briony)

Stepping out from Larson's estate, Lucian handed Elara a small box. "Here, this is for you."

Elara opened it to find the jade bracelet that Larson had been clutching tightly just moments before.

"Grandpa, did you really give him a million?"

"Oh, dear, it's not important. That amount will eventually find its way back to me. I just bid on a snuff bottle for two million. He’ll need to compensate me a million. Here, take this bracelet. It matches the one Helen gave to Noella. It's lovely, isn't it? Stepping out, anyone can tell you two are sisters. How wonderful."

The bracelet Lucian gave to Elara complemented the one Helen had given Noella, both shimmering under the sunlight with their translucent and moist luster.

Helen glanced at Elara and Noella standing together, a rare gentle smile on her face. In her view, although Elara was born into both the Pollack and Richardson families, she would always belong to the Schnabel family too!

"Lucian, my point is, let Elara keep the Schnabel surname. Even when she gets married, she should leave as part of the Schnabel family!" Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

"You old witch, always having the final say! I'm not competing with Marcel for my granddaughter. Does the surname matter? What right do I have to ask her to take my family name?" Lucian huffed coldly. "I shouldn't be proud, and neither should Sexton! Even if she keeps the Schnabel name, it doesn’t mean I won't provide her with a wedding gift."

Helen looked at Elara, reaching out to pat her hand. "Don't worry, dear. The Schnabel family raised you, and we're more than grateful. Whatever surname you choose, you won't lose out on anything meant for you."

Elara nodded. "Thank you, Grandma."

Helen sighed and, along with Lucian, got ready to leave.

Meanwhile, Larson, who had been severely squeezed, slowly opened his eyes.

"This whole ordeal must be Palmer's doing, setting me up just to make my life miserable! Damn it! I won't let him off easily!"

Larson was filled with anguish. "Even if it means mutual destruction, I'll see that boy join his mother in death!"

Luther whispered, "Larson, in a few days, it will be the anniversary of Kendra's passing. Palmer has invited Horatio, probably to perform a ceremony for her, right?"

Larson's eyes flickered with thought. He clenched his fists, murmuring, "A ceremony? Escaping purgatory won't be that easy! Better to see her son join her in hell! Make sure everything is perfectly arranged this time!"

"Yes!"

...

A few days later, at the Pollack ancestral home, the entire estate was adorned with roses and lilies, the late Kendra's favorites, as preparations for the memorial ceremony were well underway.

Horatio, accompanied by his disciples, knelt at the forefront, chanting scriptures and praying for the deceased's peace.

Dominating the hall was a portrait of a young woman, not yet forty and bearing a resemblance to Palmer. Her classical beauty was captivating, making it hard for anyone to look away.

The Pollack family members stood solemnly behind the chanting monks.

The atmosphere was one of solemn respect, with no one speaking a word.

Elara and Noella stood hand in hand at the back.

Noella's gaze fell on a middle-aged man standing behind Sexton, presumably Palmer's father. His black suit hung loosely on his slender frame, his hair tied back in a carefree manner. His silhouette carried an air of solitary artistry and deep melancholy, more akin to a street artist than a widower.

Jacob was seen conversing with the man. Turning around to wipe away a tear, the man locked eyes with Noella.

Noella raised an eyebrow slightly. This man... she seemed to recognize him!

Back then, Noella didn't know he was Palmer's father. Now, upon seeing him again, she's also somewhat puzzled.

Their last encounter was at a war-torn art gallery near the border, right before a terrorist bomb attack. Racing to help, Noella was stopped by him.

Holding an empty bottle, the man pulled Noella back. "God, you're young with a whole life ahead. Being a hero here won't earn you any medals!"

"I won't be harmed."

The man smiled gently. "You're so young. There's so much ahead of you. Not me, though. My life isn't important. I'm forgotten by the world. If I'm gone, then so be it."

After saying this, he rushed into the exploding gallery, emerging with several children in his arms!

When Noella wanted to look for him, he had vanished, rumored to have headed further north.

Unexpectedly, they met again under such circumstances!

Palmer's father recognized Noella too and approached her with a nod. "So, it's you, young lady. I'm surprised you're still alive."

"Sir, I'm equally surprised to see you. Did you find what you were looking for?"

He had mentioned being an artist on a quest for a dream in the Arctic Circle.

With tears in his eyes and a glance at the portrait, he seemed lost in thought. "I'll never find it. Not in this lifetime."

Noella opened her mouth to say something, then decided against it.

"You're Palmer's fiancée? Pleasure to meet you, young lady. I'm Emeric Pollack, Palmer's father. Let's keep our previous encounter between us, shall we? Our little secret, okay?"

Noella gave him a light look. "Why? If you're digging into the cause of your wife's demise, why keep Palmer in the dark?"

The rift between the Pollack men stemmed from Palmer's belief that Emeric didn't care about his mother's passing.

"Kid, some things can't be summed up in a few words. Plus, Palmer's got a mind like a steel trap - trusts no one. Even if I told him what I was up to, he'd take it as nothing but an excuse! But you can try talk to him and see if he’ll believe you."

Noella let out a soft chuckle. Her gaze drifted over the crowd, landing on Palmer, who was paying his respects. His silhouette was tinged with solitude, a stark contrast to the capable man he was known to be. To Noella, he still looked like a lonely boy.

That glance seemed to unveil Palmer's solitary journey to Noella.

Maybe their paths had been too similar. Suddenly, Noella felt she truly understood Palmer.

She chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with an unconscious warmth.

"He'll believe me. Wanna bet?"

Emeric shook his head, smiling. "Kid, even if you fancy Palmer, you don't quite get his personality..."

Palmer finished his respects and turned around, spotting Noella talking with Emeric. His gaze deepened before he strode over to them.

"What are you talking about?"

Noella was straightforward, locking eyes with Palmer and speaking clearly. "I was making a bet with Mr. Pollack here. A bet about you!"