Galaxy's Only Triple-S: Five Lords Can't Hold Her novel Chapter 102

Chapter 102 Two Males Claiming to Be Your Matches.

Chapter 102 Two Males Claiming to Be Your Matches

Half an hour later, a new video went up on Phoebe’s personal account.

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She stood in a black dress, her eyes so swollen she could barely keep them open. She couldn’t even stand on her own-one of her husbands had to hold her up from behind.

“Ardon made terrible choices, but he didn’t deserve to punish himself like this…” She couldn’t get the words out without breaking down, tears streaming down her face. “Even after everything he did to me, I would’ve forgiven him. Why did he have to be so stupid…”

Every word landed exactly where public sympathy lived.

Online opinion swung entirely behind Phoebe. Harming an S-class female was a capital offense under Imperial law to begin with. Ardon saw the truth closing in, knew he was doomed, and chose to end it himself. The logic held up perfectly.

Margaret shut off her Holo-bracelet. A prickle of goosebumps ran up her arms.

She’d always pegged Phoebe as shallow and vain-the type who got off on stealing other wonien’s men. She’d never expected the woman was capable of murder.

Ardon was an S-class male. Phoebe was a fake S-class at best. Even with her three A-class husbands backing her up, there was no way she could’ve pulled off a flawless suicide scene without a single trace left behind. And that eerie suicide note-there was no explaining it.

Margaret’s mind went back to the original novel. In the story, Phoebe hadn’t hesitated to lock all three of her A-class husbands up in a maximum-security prison just to clear the way for Ardon, Kiran, and Raikes.

This enemy was dangerous-completely without limits. Now that she’d been backed into a corner, she’d gone fully unhinged.

At least Margaret was in the Valoran Galaxy. If she were still on Prime Planet, Phoebe-desperate and cornered-would’ve pulled every dirty trick in the book to take her down.

Timothy caught the alert too. Before he could get a word out, his Holo-bracelet lit up again.

He scanned the message from the security chief downstairs and curled his lip.

“My Lady, there are two males downstairs claiming to be your matches. They want to come up.” The annoyance in his voice was thick. “Want me to have them thrown out?”

Margaret shifted into a more comfortable position on the sofa, “Let them up.”

Of course, she was going to see them. She was genuinely curious about these two-the husbands even Central Brain couldn’t dig up,

Two minutes later, the private elevator to the penthouse slid open.

Two tall males stepped out.

The one in front wore a fitted pale tunic with narrow sleeves. His green eyes curved into a gentle, easy smile. Everything about him radiated warmth-the kind of guy who’d make a great neighbor, easygoing

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12:43 Mon. 6 Jul W

Chapter 102 Two Males Claiming to Be Your Matches

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and kind.

The one half a step behind him wore black, his white hair stark against crimson eyes. His face held no expression whatsoever. His gaze swept past everyone in the room and landed on the ocean view beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, as if the people in front of him weren’t worth his attention.

Identical faces, yet wildly different personalities.

Handsome, sure. But after Cheiron, Baar, and Timothy, Margaret wasn’t about to be dazzled. What really caught her attention was their clothing. It looked like traditional old Earth attire.

Tyrone stepped forward and offered a slight bow, his manners impeccable. “A pleasure to meet you for the first time, Ms. Greene. I’m Tyrone Jackson, and this is my younger brother, Quentin Jackson.”

Timothy leaned back into the sofa and raked his eyes over their outfits, not bothering to hide his contempt.

“What backwater galaxy did you two crawl out of? That fashion sense is at least two hundred years behind Prime Planet” He let out a sharp laugh.

Tyrone’s temper held perfectly steady. Timothy’s jab didn’t even twitch his brow.

“We live in the Shattered Star Belt, out on the fringe galaxies. I run a small antique shop there. Quentin helps around the store-handles the manual labor, that sort of thing.” Tyrone’s explanation came with an honest, open smile.

Timothy let out a cold laugh.

Two SSS-class males running a junk antique shop out in the fringes? These backwater hicks actually think they can compete with me?

Cheiron set his book aside from the armchair. His gaze cut sharply across Tyrone and Quentin’s faces.

“You’re both SSS-class. Why stay in the fringe galaxies instead of coming to Prime Planet? Or even one of the developed systems closer to the core.” Cheiron’s voice stayed level, but it went straight to the point. “The Empire and Federation offer top-tier compensation to SSS-class males. The military and the Academy of Sciences would open their doors to either of you tomorrow. Staying out in the Shattered Star Belt is a waste of genetic potential”

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