The Killer Queen (Noella Briony) novel Chapter 316

The next morning dawned bright and early, setting the stage for Larson's meticulously planned auction.

The auction hall at the Pollack Hotel was bustling with guests, as an entire floor had been cleared to accommodate the event.

Beckett made his entrance with Noella and Elara in tow.

Noella was a vision in a white sundress, its back cut out to reveal her graceful figure, a blend of innocence and allure. Her look was completed with understated jewelry, effortlessly drawing gazes her way.

Elara opted for a sharp black dress suit, her short hair cascading over her shoulders, pinned back casually with a diamond clip, adding a touch of laid-back elegance to her aura.

The sisters, one on each side, clung to Beckett's arm as they entered, immediately greeted by Larson himself.

"Where's Palmer? The lad's slacking off, not accompanying Noella to the auction," Larson's voice boomed across the room, his intent clear to stir up speculation about Palmer's commitment to his engagement with the Schnabel family.

Noella brushed it off with a dignified, yet indifferent smile.

"Palmer's on his way, just running a bit late. Unlike some, he's had a bit of a leisurely schedule lately," she retorted, not missing a beat.

The dig at Larson, who had inherited Palmer’s CEO position at the Pollack Group more by default than merit, was not lost on the crowd. Larson's auction was widely regarded as a desperate bid to fill the financial gaps he'd found himself in.

Beckett interjected with a cool tone, "Be polite, Noella. Larson's not one to cross lightly; I worry about your safety around him."

Elara added, her brow furrowed in mock concern, "Yeah, let's keep it down. I’m so scared. Larson isn’t thinking of hitting me, is he?"

Larson was momentarily regretful for engaging with the Schnabels, having previously experienced their sharp wit.

"Let's head this way," he said, quickly changing the subject.

Noella continued, undeterred, "It's quite the spectacle, selling off family treasures so publicly. Makes one wonder if bankruptcy is just around the corner."

The remark elicited snickers among the guests, especially those familiar with the internal dynamics of the Pollack family.

As the Schnabel siblings took their seats, Larson felt a headache coming on, his temples throbbing with irritation.

Seated in front of them were Helen and Lucian Richardson.

Helen was chatting with an elderly lady beside her.

"I envy you. Your husband passed away at such a young age. Mine is still alive, but he doesn't seem to have much time left," Helen remarked.

The silver-haired lady consoled her, saying, "Your good days will come soon."

Helen let out a cold laugh. "I don't have much time left either. Who knows which one of us will go first, me or the old man."

Helen's style of speaking was not accepted by most people, but fortunately, this elderly lady had seen a lot in life. She laughed heartily and glanced around. "Oh dear, is your husband not here today?"

"He's playing chess with Marcel Schnabel. He wouldn't understand this type of gathering if he were here. He'd just be in the way." Helen was blunt in her speech, never avoiding anyone.

If Sexton, the former head of the Pollack Group, showed up at this auction, she wouldn't have a moment's peace today.