The Killer Queen by Noella Briony

Chapter 81

Vincent felt a pang of guilt just thinking about it.

How did those folks get wind of his greasing the wheels with business judges, his failed attempts at buttering up top officials with gifts that got tossed back in his face, or his torching the rival company’s place to swipe their trade secrets?

And they even knew about the time he swiped the competitor’s menu and served up nothing but tapas at their dinner.

The more Vincent thought about it, the more scared he got. His back broke out in a cold sweat. and with injuries all over his body, that sweat stung like hell.

“Ow, ow! Where the heck is that doctor? Briony, where on earth did you get the money? I was just about to give the Rosenberg family a ring to chat about your wedding plans!”

Wedding plans!

Hearing those words, Briony’s heart skipped a beat.

If Vincent thought the money was from the Rosenberg family, he’d definitely start hashing out her marriage to Milford with them. And as for that five million, someone like Yvonne surely wasn’t hurting for cash. Worst case scenario, she could just hit up the Rosenberg family for it once she was hitched to Milford.

“Don’t sweat it, Dad. I’ll figure something out. I bumped into Stirling and the moment he heard Noella’s name, he kicked me out. Looks like the Schnabel family really has it out for her. Better

to steer clear from now on.”

Vincent nodded in relief.

Briony was way better as a daughter, a hundred times better than that ungrateful girl, Noella. It was so lucky that they cut the tie with her, or no one knew how she would’ve dragged the Lambert family down.

“I even saw Noella chatting it up with the owners of East Sea and West Ocean. Seemed like they knew each other.” She added.

Vincent perked up at that. Noella literally knew the big shots of East Sea and West Ocean? Maybe they had relatives at the Imperial West Hospital and hired Noella to care for them? That girl was only good for serving others. Her vibe of poverty made you wonder just how poor her original family must be.

“Forget her. She’s made her bed and she’s no concern of ours! Belinda, forget about revisiting the ancestral estate. I’ve sold it!” Vincent announced.

Belinda shot up in panic and stared at Vincent, “You sold our ancestral estate? And what about old lady’s graveyard?”

“That too! Some sucker insisted on buying it all, even the graveyard. Beats me why!”

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Chapter 81

graveyard. They never spent a dime on that house or the graveyard. They just

was tickled pink after selling it at a price of

lady’s graveyard as well? Some old

It’s just a graveyard, what’s

Old Mrs. Lambert out and move in themselves to ensure

knew that Vincent, the loser, had sold

My folks had a psychic to explore the place, saying it would promise prosperity and endless wealth for

I gotta see if I can buy it back.” Vincent, ignoring his pain, whipped out his phone and called the buyer of

assistant handed him the

“Boss, it’s Vincent.”

glanced at the caller ID, then eyed Noella beside

signaling him to

family estate, right? So here’s the thing. You bought the estate and a grave along with it, but

me these days and I just feel wrong. After all, it’s just a graveyard, and you guys

that land! The contract’s signed. Mr. Lambert. If you want it,

price,

“Ten million.”

of his skin despite his wounds, “Martin, you’re being a total highway robber here! You only spent three million on our estate and my mother’s graveyard; why

land and house are both mine now. If you’re

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Chapter 81

to bless the Lambert family with never–ending wealth, couldn’t bear

sake! You can’t just

mother? I’ve already dug her up and buried her somewhere else, no big deal. I’m

dig a hole and bury it?

Mrs. Lambert was his mom, not Martin’s. What gave him the right to say he dug her

you treat my dear mom like this? You’re way out of line!” he cried

annoyance, “If you want your mother’s coffin, dig it up yourself. That graveyard’s mine now. If you want it back, pay up and cut the

to his assistant, “Blacklist his calls from now on, unless he’s ready to cough up the cash for

“Yes, Mr. Schnabel.”