Galaxy's Only Triple-S: Five Lords Can't Hold Her novel Chapter 212

Chapter 212 Care About Their Situation

Chapter 212 Care About Their Situation

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Quentin didn’t even blink. His face stayed as cold and unreadable as ever, like being outed as the head of the interstellar black market was someone else’s problem entirely.

“Don’t flatter me. It’s not intelligence-it’s basic logic.” Eileen let out a sharp scoff and crossed to the sofa, her heels clicking sharply over the floor. She settled into the cushions and took the coffee her aide handed her. “Margaret matched five SSS-class husbands. The whole Starnet knows that. She kills Greven, then gets smuggled off-planet by an unregistered black-market ship. And with the kind of power you two possess…

She lifted her cup and took a pointed sip. “Anyone in the galaxy with half a brain has figured out by now that the two heads of the black market are also among Margaret’s conquests.”

Tyrone shrugged, entirely unbothered. “So we’ve been made. I’ve been looking for an excuse to ditch that mess anyway. Following Ms. Greene out in the open? Worth it.”

Quentin didn’t even grunt. His silence said it all.

The two of them were perfectly at ease. Margaret, however, frowned and glanced down. A sliver of unease curled through her chest.

Tyrone and Quentin had built their power in the shadows. Because they’d matched with her, because they’d moved to protect her, they were now exposed to every major power in the galaxy. That meant endless trouble. She was starting to care about their situation.

Quentin seemed to catch the shift in her mood. He turned his head, crimson eyes settling on her with calm intensity. “Don’t worry about it. It was only a matter of time.”

Tyrone leaned in and added with a grin, “Exactly. Ms. Greene, from now on, we’re counting on you to take care of us.”

“Enough with the devoted act.” Eileen waved her hand, brooking no argument. “SSS-class males recover fast, but don’t push it. I don’t want Timothy whining later that I neglected Margaret’s husbands. Take them.”

The medical bots closed in immediately, steering the twe men toward the highest-grade recovery pods with mechanical persistence.

Once they were gone, Eileen turned to Margaret and let her expression soften. “As for you-shower first. I’ve had food prepared.”

Margaret found herself ushered into a suite larger than anything she’d stayed in back on the Valoran Galaxy.

For the first time in days, she let herself fully unwind. The water washed away the sand and the scent of blood on her body, and the rising steam blurred her vision. She wiped her face and looked up at herself in the mirror.

Her face was thinner than it had been a week ago. Her eyes, though-those were brighter than ever,

She toweled her hair dry and stepped out. The dining table in the outer room was covered with food.

A seared steak still sizzled from the grill, its sauce reduced to a glossy dark glaze. Beside it, a bowl of soup

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Chapter 212 Care About Their Situation

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carried flecks of finely chopped herbs drifting across the surface, prepared with a precision rarely seen on a starship moving at speed.

Eileen sat on the couch, coffee in one hand, her Holo-bracelet casting financial reports into the air. The galaxy might be falling apart, but she wasn’t about to miss the daily earnings report.

She looked up at the sound of Margaret’s footsteps.

“Ear. You’ve been scraping by on barren planet rations for days.”

Margaret didn’t stand on ceremony. She pulled out a chair, sat down, and picked up her utensils.

The first bite of meat hit her tongue and her taste buds jolted awake. Days of dry rations and energy bars had nearly made her forget food could taste like this.

“Good?” Eileen asked.

“Good.” The answer was short, but Margaret was chewing faster than usual.

Eileen noticed, and the corner of her mouth curved. “Timothy poached the chef just for you. Said your palate was too refined for standard nutrient packs.”

She took a sip of coffee, amusement lacing her voice. “That boy hacked the Hurst Group’s financial system for you. Ran the billion-credit bounty straight through the corporate accounts. The old fossils on the board nearly had a collective aneurysm. The formal complaints landed on my desk in a stack.”

Margaret’s knife paused mid-cut. She looked up.

Eileen laughed, “Don’t worry about it. The one thing the Hurst Group has in endless supply is money. If he can’t even protect his own wife, what exactly are we keeping those assets for?”

The logic, the tone-it was Timothy through and through. The apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree. Even their shameless confidence in throwing money around was hereditary.

Margaret lowered her gaze and went back to her soup. It was a rich mushroom base, earthy and smooth, spreading warmth in her chest. She didn’t say anything, but her fingers tightened slightly around the

spoon.

That feeling-of being thought of, of being worried about-it had taken her a long time to get used to.

Eileen’s bio-terminal erupted with frantic pulses. She glanced at the caller ID and let out a breath she’d been expecting, flicking the projection onto the central holographic display.

The signal connected and Timothy’s face slammed into the screen.

His golden hair was a disaster. Dark shadows pooled under his eyes, and those usually bright blue irises were shot through with red. He hadn’t slept in at least two days-his collar was buttoned wrong.

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