The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1695

It instantly fell silent. Dalton's eyes darkened, and he admitted to having seen the newspaper before.

Whitley, overhearing the response from a distance, wondered if Dalton had simply decided to stop hiding the truth.

"There's a Youth Daily at Serenity Hotel. You might have missed it last time. I suppose most people do," Dalton explained calmly.

Wynter recalled the peculiar hotel, which was said to have been established a century ago. Given the timing, it was likely that the hotel might retain remnants of the past. But there was no reason for the hotel to hold onto an inconsequential newspaper.

Seeing Wynter's confusion, Dalton realized he had unintentionally misled her. He inadvertently glanced at Whitley, who hung his head and moved closer to Wynter. Unaware of the subtle exchange between them, Wyntre remained focused on the newspaper in her hand.

As she flipped through the newspaper, she stumbled upon a local news story. In those days, newspapers rarely featured pictures with their articles. Yet, they dedicated an entire section to reporting a story that would be deemed scandalous by modern standards.

It was about a bank robbery, though the picture featured was completely unrelated. But wait, that picture…

Wynter raised an eyebrow. She doubted it was a coincidence that Serenity Hotel appeared in the picture. Even stranger was that the number 1978 was printed on it. But try as she might, Wynter just couldn't piece together the connection.

Just then, Wynter halted in her tracks as she recalled the hotel's characteristics. Considering it hosted auctions, it might also offer mortgage or safekeeping services. In those days, such practices were quite common.

At that thought, Wynter decided to visit Serenity Hotel for further investigation.

Noah, who intended to see her off, couldn't help frowning upon learning her plan. He explained, "Serenity Hotel's owner is rather eccentric. When he's annoyed, he doesn't care who he offends.

"No one knows what could be driving him to stir up troubles for others. He's respectful toward the Whitman family, but beyond that, he's all about profit.

"He doesn't like being disturbed. Throughout the years, the Chamber of Commerce occasionally extended offers to him, but he always turned them down."

"Indeed, he's not a simple man. If you're set on going, I'll come with you," Taylor offered.

"It's alright, Uncle Taylor. I've got some personal matters to take care of." Wynter turned down the offer.

She hadn't sensed the peculiarities that her uncles mentioned during her last visit to Serenity Hotel. Rather, she had felt a strange sense of familiarity.

Since she would be heading there anyway, she figured she would try to recollect her memories during the investigation.

At that moment, Cyrus came over and asked, "Are you really going to that hotel, Wynter?"

Puzzled by his troubled expression, Wynter inquired, "Yeah. What's about it?"

Cyrus whispered, "The hotel is usually normal, and most people rent it out for events. But no one ever goes there by themselves.

"You're planning to meet the owner, aren't you? Before I came back, my old buddies once mentioned that the third floor—where the owner stays—is completely off-limits.

"One of them has a childhood friend who used to work as a bartender there, and he said the owner sleeps in a coffin! How terrifying!"

Wynter wasn't particularly interested until she heard Cyrus' account. Her lips curled up into a smirk. "They say sleeping in a coffin can bring good fortune. Now I'm even more curious to visit the hotel."

Cyrus was left speechless, feeling that Wynter wasn't like most people. While he had been completely terrified when he first heard of the rumors, she saw it as a symbol of extreme luck.

Dalton sat beside Wynter with a stoic face, but he suddenly turned at her next words.

"I heard that Serenity Hotel's owner is rather handsome, and he sleeps in the coffin. How cool is that?"

"Oh, really? And where did you hear that?" Dalton smirked. His hand, while holding the cup, was aesthetically pleasing.

Alas, Wynter tended to be thoughtless in certain aspects. "Everyone says so! Rumors claim he's handsome and rich."

Cyrus nodded in agreement. "My friend said the owner is known for wearing handmade, tailored suits from Chalam Street. He won't even consider any other brands. And he has a pretty good figure, too."

"All the more reason to visit. There's no way I'll miss the chance to meet a handsome man," Wynter said, folding the newspaper with a beaming smile.

She wondered what kind of monster had developed intelligence and decided to sound them out, hoping to uncover their intentions in guarding the hotel.

After all, Gordon wouldn't have left something important in any random place. Could he have trusted the hotel more than the Chamber of Commerce?

While Wynter mulled over Gordon's wishes, Dalton was thinking about pummeling a certain someone back to his true form and sending him straight to where he came from.

…

At Serenity Hotel, Gail was lying in the coffin scattered with rose petals when he suddenly let out a sneeze. Seeing that, Samiyah frowned and asked, "Are you sick, Boss?"

"I've told you to not call me that," Gail reminded her sternly.

"Sorry, it's a force of habit." Samiyah gently tapped her lips. Now that Dalton had returned, Gail was no longer the boss.

Picking up a rose petal from the coffin, Gail wondered how he could possibly get sick. It seemed absurd—after all, he wasn't even human. Little did he know that a storm was heading his way.

Dalton had been bothered by Wynter's past tendency of gathering handsome men. And as part of her "collections", he was certainly not in the best mood.

Back in Serenity Hotel, a staff member came to report. "Someone's looking for you, Mr. Gilmore."

Hearing that, Gail tightened his grip on his trenchcoat. "I thought we'd announced that we're not open for any businesses or auctions right now."

With Dalton's return, they had decided to solely focus on his recovery. The energy surrounding the hotel was ideal for that.

"That's what I told the visitors, but they insisted," the staff member replied.

Gail gave an angry chuckle. "Well, I'd like to see the unlucky fellow who decides to barge in his time."

Having taught several scions a lesson in the past, he believed that the visitors had come flaunting their connections with the new higher-ups to stir troubles. With a flick of his wrist, he slipped on his signet ring and made his way to the lobby.

As he descended the stairs, Gail toyed with his ring and chuckled to himself. "No matter where you're from, your parents should've warned you not to step into Hawford's Serenity Hotel without thinking twice."

With that, Gail lifted his gaze but was stunned to see Wynter. Though he quickly regained his composure, he nearly collapsed on the stairs upon noticing the figure beside her. He could barely get a sentence out, let alone fiddle with his ring.

"W-What are you standing there for? Serve the guests some tea!" he stammered.

"Your master?" Wynter repeated as her eyebrow raised.

Gail regretted running his mouth and peeked at Dalton. Upon seeing the latter remained unfazed, he breathed a sigh of relief and commented, "Indeed, my master is omnipotent and has foreseen everything. There's nothing beyond his comprehension.

"That said, it's impressive that you managed to uncover this newspaper, Ms. Quinnell."

Gail gently clapped his hand, and a small compartment on the left stairway suddenly popped out. The staircase served as a treasure vault, with each compartment storing a unique treasure.

Gail retrieved an old wooden box and instructed, "Please input the secret code."

A mix of emotion stirred within Wynter, but her gaze remained steady. Once she stated the secret code, the box opened with a soft click.

Inside the box lay a Youth Daily and a letter addressed to her, but the real treasure was the gold-eyed goldfish emblem—a symbol of inheritance to the Southern Cascadia Chamber of Commerce, and the very item that Cleo had been searching for.

It appeared that Gordon had mentioned Colifernia in the letter. But before Wynter could read through it, she received news that a member of the Special Unit had gone missing.

It was a grave situation, prompting Wynter and Dalton to rush back and gather their things.

Before they left for the airport, Marie gently caressed Wynter's face and said, "Be careful out there. If things go wrong, you can always come home. Your family will be waiting. You're not alone."

"Don't worry about the rest in Hawford as we'll take care of that. Call us if you need anything," Noah added. Taylor nodded in agreement, expressing their full support for Wynter.

Wynter looked at her family and assured them, "Don't worry, guys. I'm Wynter Quinnell—there's nothing I can't handle. Besides, I've got the Yarwood family's head by my side."

Instantly, the three elders turned to Dalton.

"You'd better take good care of Sevie and make sure she doesn't get a scratch. Otherwise, I'll be coming for you!" Taylor threatened.

"I'll leave Sevie in your care, Dalton. Make sure she takes her meals and doesn't overwork herself," Marie added.

"What they said. As long as you understand," Noah stated.

Dalton gave a faint smile. "Rest assured. She'll be safe under my watch."

As soon as the conversation ended, Wynter swiftly climbed into the car. Seeing that, Dalton bid farewell to the elders before following suit.

"You should head inside, Mom. I've prescribed some new medicines for Grandpa. He needs to take them daily to get his health back on track.

"By the way, I heard you've been closer to Mr. Luce. I'm rooting for you!" Wynter grinned at Marie before gesturing to the driver to head to the airport.

Little did she know, someone from a distance had been observing the events outside the Whitman residence discreetly through a pair of binoculars.

When the car drove away, they took out their phone and dialed a number. "Wynter Quinnell and Dalton Yarwood are on their way to the airport. They'll probably arrive by noon."

A baritone voice replied from the other end, "Got it. Come to Colifernia. Hawford is no longer of any use."

The call then ended abruptly.