Galaxy's Only Triple-S: Five Lords Can't Hold Her novel Chapter 166

Chapter 166 Fixed His Gaze On Margaret

Chapter 166 Fixed His Gaze On Margaret

Margaret nodded. “Deal. You get two sentences, then you head back to your own room.”

Timothy lifted his face from the pillow, his blue eyes bright and shiny. “Five.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Forget it. No talking at all.”

“Fine, two it is.” Timothy sat up straight in a flash, hugging his pillow and crossing his legs.

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His very first sentence gave Margaret an instant headache. “You and Cheiron got secrets now, My Lady?”

Margaret said nothing. She walked over to the cabinet and grabbed a bottle of water.

His voice stayed soft, but his gaze didn’t. “You spent almost three hours in his office this afternoon.”

“How’d you find out?” she asked.

“I asked the butler,” Timothy said, as if it was totally normal, not a single hint of guilt on his face.

Margaret twisted off the cap, took a sip, and leaned back against the armchair across from him.

So the butler is still his spy.

“Cheiron helped me look into a few things.” That was all she gave him.

Timothy blinked. “Like what?”

“There goes your two sentences. You’re all out.”

Timothy froze, then his face fell. “My Lady…”

“You asked two questions, and I answered both. Now go back to your room.”

Timothy didn’t move,

He hugged his pillow tight, his blue eyes glowing even brighter in the dim light. He stared at Margaret quietly for a few seconds.

“My Lady.” His voice dropped, soft and steady, no more cutesy lilt. “You don’t have to tell me everything. But-

He paused. “Don’t shut me out completely,”

The sitting room went quiet for a beat.

He didn’t look like his usual clingy self right now. There was no hurt in his face-just sincerity.

Margaret stared at him for two seconds, then tossed the water bottle in her hand right at him.

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Chapter 166 Fixed His Gaze On Margaret

Timothy caught it on instinct.

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“You can sleep on the couch.” Margaret stood up and beaded for the bedroom. “Grab a blanket from the closet yourself. And you’re out of here by seven a.m. tomorrow. No getting in the bed.”

Timothy’s eyes lit up instantly, his blue eyes bright. “You’re the best, My Lady.”

he door be

Margaret stepped into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. She leaned back against it for a beat, touching her cheek.

It was warm.

What is with all these people popping up one right after another?

Outside the door, Timothy had already pulled a blanket out of the closet and made the couch up neatly. He lay down, hugged his pillow, and turned on his side to face the bedroom.

Prime Planet’s artificial sun filtered through gaps in the blackout curtains. Thin golden lines streaked across the carpet

Margaret blinked awake. She gazed at the carved ceiling for a few seconds, and then it hit her-the golden fox was camped out in her sitting room.

She pulled the bedroom door open. The sitting room was empty-his pillow was gone, too. For once, Timothy had left on his own without being told.

Margaret washed up quickly and changed into comfy athletic wear. She’d just opened her door to head downstairs for breakfast when she spotted someone leaning against the hallway wall.

Tyrone was in a dark green linen shirt, the collar unbuttoned, his hair slightly messy.

“Up this early?” Margaret asked dryly. “Don’t tell me you were waiting out here for me.”

Tyrone pushed off the wall, twisting a tiny silver chip-no bigger than a fingernail-between his fingers. “Would you believe me if I said it was a coincidence?”

Margaret shot him a stare and walked past him toward the stairs. “Do I look like an idiot to you?”

“Nah. You’re not an idiot-you’re sharp. Sharp enough to be interesting.” Tyrone followed after her with long strides, grinning. He held the chip out to her. “So here’s a practical little good morning gift. Everything on Prince Greven-all the dirty stuff they wiped clean off the Starnet-it’s all on here,”

Margaret stopped walking and took the cold, little chip, raising an eyebrow. “Your black market intel network digs up stuff on the royal family, too?”

She asked it straight out. She and Cheiron had been suspicious about Tyrone and Quentin’s backgrounds from the start. Now she was just making him say it out loud.

Tyrone didn’t even try to hide it-he was surprisingly open about it. He shrugged, tone casual. “That’s nothing. If you’re curious, I can dig up dirt on Lesley, too.”

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“You’re just admitting it like that?” Margaret slipped the chip into her pocket. “Aren’t you scared I’ll turn

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Chapter 166 Fixed His Gaze On Margaret

you two in? The Federation and the Empire don’t exactly play nice with the black market.”

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Tyrone immediately clapped a hand to his chest, putting on a dramatic, heartbroken act. “Ms. Greene, that hurts. We’re your legal husbands, remember? This is just shared marital property. We’re totally loyal to you. You wouldn’t really throw us in jail, would you?”

Margaret’s face twitched. His acting skills were right up there with Phoebe’s.

Before she could retort, the door next to them swung open.

Quentin stepped out. He was dressed neatly, his white hair perfectly groomed. He shot Tyrone a cold look, then fixed his gaze on Margaret.

“If she was gonna turn us in, she would’ve done it already.” Quentin’s voice was flat, icy as always. “Commander Iverson and Mr. Jewett? They’re still just suspicious. Nothing solid yet.”

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