Galaxy's Only Triple-S: Five Lords Can't Hold Her novel Chapter 283

Chapter 283 Settled

Chapter 283 Settled

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Timothy’s Holo-bracelet hit the table with a solid thunk. He crossed his arms, his expression one of pure disdain.

He muttered, a lock of blond hair swinging as he rolled his eyes, “Typical meathead. That’s Margaret’s personalized system. Ever heard of emotional support? Can your hulking war machine whip up a batch of starbeast stew? Can it draw her a bath? All you ever think about is punching things. Margaret needs consideration.”

Baar’s cold gaze locked onto him. “Looking for trouble? Want me to toss you into a boot camp for a week? See how you like it.”

“Oh, you’re gonna start a fight right here in Margaret’s house?” Timothy shot back, chin tilted up, emboldened by her presence. “Go ahead. Try it.”

As the two men bristled, Margaret tapped the rim of her plate with her fork. The sharp ting cut through the tension.

“Enough. Eat.” She sighed, weariness creeping into her voice, “Anyone who keeps arguing can go stand guard outside with Ryan. Let the food do its job and shut you both up.”

Timothy pouted but complied, sliding a plate of tender, pink-centered steak toward Margaret. Baar merely grunted, shifting his glare back to his own meal.

Beside them, Tyrone stifled a laugh, nudging a serving of sautéed greens toward Quentin. Cheiron, ever attentive, dabbed a bit of sauce from the corner of Norman’s mouth with a napkin before catching Margaret’s eye and offering a small, knowing smile.

*****

After dinner, Cheiron led a sleepy Norman upstairs for his bath. The six-year-old’s energy was spent; she was fast asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

Down in the living room, the others settled onto the plush sofas. Primo glided in with a tray of herbal beverage to aid digestion, then discreetly retreated to a corner, his screen dimming to standby.

Margaret took a slow sip from her cup, the warmth spreading through her fingers.

“I’m planning a trip to Terminus Planet.”

The announcement landed in the quiet room like a stone. Tyrone paused, his cup halfway to his lips. Quentin’s eyes lifted from the floor.

Margaret said, “The Cabinet purge is done. The old aristocracy is licking its wounds. Norman’s lineage is officially recognized, backed by the Academy of Sciences report. Her claim to the throne is secure for now.

She set her cup down on the low table with a soft click. “This lull is the perfect time. I need to see Terminus for myself, assess its resources and infrastructure. If it’s going back on the star charts, I have to know what we’re dealing with.”

“I’m coming with you.” Timothy was the first to speak, leaning eagerly toward her. “That place… it’s a mess. You can’t go without me.”

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Chapter 283 Settled

Margaret’s hand landed on his head, firmly pushing him back. “You’re staying.

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“With the old families gutted, their assets, mining planets, and shipping lanes are up for grabs. The Hurst Group needs to move fast and secure them. Who’s going to hold down the fort and make us money if you’re off-planet?”

Shoulders slumping, Timothy absorbed her words. At the mention of money and power, a spark of determination reignited in his eyes.

“Fine. Consider it handled. By the time you’re back, I’ll have half the Empire’s economic arteries in a chokehold. Let’s see anyone try to give you orders then.”

Her gaze shifted to Cheiron, who had just descended the stairs.

Taking a seat in a single armchair, he adjusted his glasses and said, “Norman needs me here. There’s also the gene bank reconstruction at the Academy, and I should monitor the Cabinet’s daily operations during this transition. My hands are full.”

He was a pragmatist. Even if a part of him longed to search Terminus for clues about his father, he knew where he was most needed. Margaret gave him a nod of understanding.

Finally, she looked at Baar.

The commander loosened the top two buttons of his shirt, revealing a glimpse of toned chest.

“Don’t look at me. The front lines are heating up. The insectoids are getting restless. Gary’s sent three urgent dispatches. I ship out at dawn,” he growled, his voice rough.

He’d been away from his command post far too long already. After all, he was the Federation’s Supreme Commander. The time he’d spent entangled in Prime Planet’s politics was a significant concession.

“Then it’s settled. We depart in a week. Tyrone and Quentin will guide. I’ll take Primo,” Margaret concluded.

“You’re in good hands, Ms. Greene. Terminus is our old stomping ground. We won’t let a hair on your head be harmed,” Tyrone said with an easy smile.

Quentin remained silent but gave a firm, single nod.

Late into the night, Margaret pushed open her bedroom door.

She’d barely crossed the threshold when a strong hand closed around her wrist.

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