The Killer Queen

The little black car smoothly rolled out of the Imperial West Hospital grounds.

“That gal you just saw? She’s not my girlfriend.”

Noella didn’t respond.

“She’s my secretary.”

Noella was like, what’s the deal with her?

Running the show as one of the big three on the deep web, it’s no surprise Palmer’s got a few secretaries, especially when that secretary looked like she could seriously kick some butt probably a real whiz at her job.

“Not bad.” said Noella.

Palmer went on to clarify, “You can’t replace the standout abilities and shining moments that women bring to the table at work, so yeah, I’ve got a good number of ladies on my team.”

Noella nodded in agreement. “Totally get you. My big bro’s company is chock–full of women too. He always says no one falls for the boss just because of the job at hand; integrity and skills trump gender every time.”

Palmer chuckled, “Your brother and I are on the same page.”

“Guys can fall for their boss just as easily. It’s got nothing to do with gender.” NôvelDrama.Org © 2024.

That’s not exactly what Palmer meant!

Palmer touched his nose, trying to mask the stiffness around his lips.

“You’ve heard about Thorpe entering the country, right?”

“Yeah, Thorpe’s probably here to touch base with Toxic Monarch.”

Thorpe, the big cheese of the Cerulean Whale Organization, cozying up with Toxic Monarch in Harmonia Country’s Imperial City – that’s quite a meet–up!

“What’s your take?” asked Palmer.

Noella shot him a look and said coolly, “Toxic Monarch’s after the Harmonia market, and Thorpe’s gunning for us. They’re just teaming up for a quick minute.”

Being both seasoned foxes in the deep web game, Thorpe and Toxic Monarch’s combined craftiness could run circles around the planet, with not less than eight or ten sly tails trailing behind them.

When Palmer heard her say “us,” the corners of his mouth curled up ever so slightly, a wave of indescribable joy sweet as honey flooding his heart.

Noella, catching the smile on Palmer’s face, was a bit speechless.

12:22

Was Vocalist hit in the head during some missions or what? She’d just mentioned Thorpe and Toxic Monarch joining forces to wipe them out, and he’s still grinning?

The neurology department at Imperial West Hospital was pretty decent too; might be worth getting Vocalist checked out when they get the chance.

Rising Glory Group, the CEO’s office.

Beckett, sulted and booted, sat behind his grand desk, not a wrinkle to be seen on his shirt, his chiseled features exuding a warm elegance, every move demonstrating the polse of high society.

His assistant, dressed in a sharp business suit, stood by respectfully. “Mr. Schnabel, we’ve dug up everything on Noella’s time with the Lambert family.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“She’s had it rough with the Lamberts. Her pocket money was capped at two hundred a month. often not even paid out. Last year, she got a measly five hundred for the whole year, nearly had to fork out for her own tuition.”

“Briony, the current darling of the Lamberts, grew up with Noella. She pulls in five grand monthly, raked in thirty thou last year, mostly under–the–table cash from Belinda.”

Beckett massaged his brow, struggling to contain the rage bubbling inside and said, “Go on!”

“Noella had a fiancé lined up, the big shot Milford from the Rosenberg family of Tranquility City. But the Rosenberg heir’s a player. The Lamberts wanted Briony to marry into the Rosenbergs. so they kicked Noella to the curb. When the old Mr. Schnabel sent folks to get her, they faced nothing but insults.”

“Just yesterday, Noella got nabbed – all orchestrated by the Lamberts. They were hoping to sell her off to some hillbilly backwater, never to return.”

Even the assistant was shaking in his boots.

What a rotten bunch!

The pen in Beckett’s grip snapped clean in two!

“Great, just great! Those damned Lamberts! It would’ve been okay if they were just nice to my sis, even if they were broke. But to torment her like that!”

Beckett was usually the epitome of composure and refinement; his assistant had never seen him so angry.

“Mr. Schnabel, Mr. Tobin from H&Y Corporation wants to meet you at the bar tonight for a business talk, and that Milford will be there too.”

Beckett scoffed, his thin lips curving into a scornful smirk.

12:22

“Tell Mr. Tobin I’ll be right over.”

“Got it.”

At the bar.

As the biggest watering hole in all of Imperial City, the bar was a blaze of flashing lights with thundering music that rattled the senses and soul.

The massive dance floor was packed. No sooner had Noella stepped in than she felt a few deliberate bumps against her arm.

Palmer grabbed Noella’s hand and pulled her close, his towering frame casting a protective shadow over her.

“Sorry, she’s with me.”

The would–be flirts, faced with Palmer’s icy demeanor, Instinctively stepped back.

Suddenly in Palmer’s embrace, her face pressed against his shirt, she noticed he seemed to be wearing a sandalwood–like cologne, subtle, filling her senses, and causing a slight warmth to spread across her cheeks.

Her first time this close to a man, Noella held her breath, about to step back when Palmer’s hand pressed against her spine.

“Shh. Thorpe’s over there.” He leaned in close to her ear, his voice low and tinged with barely– contained delight and allure, thick with a magnetic charm.

Noella’s cheeks flushed even redder, her back stiffening as she followed Palmer’s nod towards a booth. And sure enough, there was Thorpe, knocking back drinks.

A few years back, Noella had crossed paths with Thorpe and knew his mug. The unfamiliar guy sharing his booth must be the Toxic Monarch!

Palmer gave Noella’s slender back a reassuring pat, which to any onlooker might have seemed like a cozy embrace

“Thorpe’s brought a posse of thirty hitmen, and the Toxic Monarch’s got over fifty goons with. him. Wouldn’t be surprised if there are more drug lords lurking around here.” Noella did a quick. headcount of the crowd.

Palmer was taken aback – how did she figure out Thorpe and Toxic Monarch’s headcount in just a split second?

She smelled good, making it a little hard for him to let go.

“Sorry for the intrusion, but we gotta play it cool to keep Toxic Monarch and Thorpe from spotting us.”

Noella was like, talk about an unnecessary cover–up!

12:22

Meanwhile, in another booth Milford’s lecherous gaze swept across the dancers before hunting. for tonight’s prey.

“Mr. Rosenberg, isn’t that your fiancée over there?”

Someone nudged Milford, pointing at two people huddled together at the edge of the dance

floor.

The man in the black shirt was whispering something to the girl in his arms, and under the hazy lights, Noella’s face was seductively charming.

Milford’s eyes lit up!

But out loud, he sneered. “My fiancée is Briony. She’s the real deal from the Lambert family. Noella’s just a fake. She’s been giving me the cold shoulder, and now here she is, playing coy. in a nightclub.”

Despite his words, his feet carried him straight towards Noella and Palmer.

Milford plastered on a greasy smile. “Noella, long time no see. I’ve been thinking about your every day!”

Oh, right, the bar isn’t Beckett’s joint, so no biggie Milford got in.

“Milford? If you’re sick in the head, check into a loony bin. This ain’t your scene.”

“Noella, I know you’re into me, or else why would you follow me here? Don’t worry, I might not be able to marry you, but I can make you my mistress.”

Milford thought his offer was pretty darn tempting, definitely better than her playing hostess here. She’d surely bite!

Palmer’s smile vanished as he looked down at Noella. “Sorry, just give me a minute.”

Milford hadn’t even noticed Palmer next to Noella, assuming he was just her client for the night. Palmer leisurely rolled up his sleeves, revealing muscular arms, and his fist, the size of a sandbag, landed squarely on Milford’s face!

*Argh!”

A barrage of punches rained down, and in an instant, Milford felt several teeth shatter!

“Do you have any idea who I am…

Palmer stepped on Milford’s face with his shiny leather shoes. He ground his heel a few times. his voice as cold as a demon of the dark night, “Nothing but an uncultured bastard.”

With a wave of his hand, someone from the shadows rushed over and dragged away Milford. who was beaten to a pulp, like hauling away a dead fish.

Such brawls weren’t rare in the bar, and with lighting dim enough, hardly anyone noticed Milford getting thrashed.

Palmer turned around a slight annoyance still visible in his deep eyes as he looked at Noella

with regret. “Sorry for the scare. Just a minor issues, nothing to dwell on.”