Galaxy's Only Triple-S: Five Lords Can't Hold Her novel Chapter 107

Chapter 107 Three Ticking Bombs

Chapter 107 Three Ticking Bombs

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[What’s even more disgusting is that video where she threw Ardon under the hovercar, crying her eyes out. Turns out Ardon was just her black market errand boy the whole time? This female’s schemes run deep. It’s terrifying]

Margaret chewed on her fork, thoroughly enjoying the pile-on happening on her screen.

A highly upvoted comment snagged her eye.

A user called “OrbitTroll” had posted, “Yesterday, I said Phoebe’s blame-shifting video was pure theater- she couldn’t even squeeze out a real tear. Her rabid fans swarmed me for it. Told me my mom was on a one-way flight to the sun. Now that the receipts are out, what do you brainless stans have to say?”

The top reply beneath it was stacking likes at an insane rate.

[Flight canceled. Your mom can come home now.]

Margaret snorted mid-sip. Soup sprayed everywhere.

Timothy’s hand shot out, napkin already in motion toward her mouth, while his other palm rubbed gentle circles on her back. “My Lady, slow down. No one’s taking your food.”

Cheiron reached for a glass of water a beat later. His hand paused in the air, then set it quietly beside her hand.

Margaret grabbed the napkin from Timothy and wiped her mouth, her shoulders still shaking with laughter.

“These users. So creative with their insults.” She picked up her water and took a sip.

Timothy leaned in, glanced at the screen, and let out a dismissive huff. “They earned it. If Starnet didn’t require real-name registration, the comments would be a whole lot uglier.”

Margaret caught her breath and kept scrolling. Past the ranting and the rage, a few cooler heads were actually breaking down the case,

[Don’t celebrate too fast. Phoebe’s three A-class husbands are notoriously loyal. They’ll find a way to get her off the hook.]

Margaret paused.

She ran through the original novel’s plot in her head. Those three A-class husbands were the sharpest knives in Phoebe’s arsenal.

In the book, she had them completely bewitched. Even when she used them as scapegoats and shipped them off to prison, they never wavered. They still believed their wife was the purest, most innocent soul in the galaxy.

They were stupid. But they were still a problem.

More importantly, Phoebe had been popping black market drugs for a long time to force her rank up. There was no way she could’ve hidden that from the three males sharing her bed. They knew.

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Chapter 107 Three Ticking Bombs

Margaret set her fork down and turned to Cheiron across the table.

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“Cheiron.” Her tone had shifted, all business now. “Do you have contacts at the Interstellar Security Bureau?”

Cheiron looked up from his coffee. His gray eyes were calm, steady, waiting.

“Those three A-class husbands were way too quiet at the arrest scene. That’s not normal.” She held his gaze and laid out her reasoning. “Phoebe’s been on those pills for a while. They didn’t just know about it—they were probably in on it. The money trail for the drug buys, Ardon’s movements before he died-those three are tied up in all of it.”

She paused and drove the point home.

“Here’s the real issue. Those three would die for Phoebe. If the Interstellar Security Bureau focuses everything on her, she’ll just dump all the charges-the drug buys, the murder-onto them. And they’ll take the fall. Happily.”

Timothy’s brow furrowed. “You’re saying those three are about to become her scapegoats?”

“Not just scapegoats.” Margaret leaned back in her chair. “They’re three ticking bombs if they stay on the outside. Phoebe wants me dead right now. All she has to do is cry a little during a visitation, and those three attack dogs will come straight for me.”

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