The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1747

However, no matter how hard Marcelo tried to speak through the intercom, there was no response from Wynter's end.

He clenched his fists tightly. A sense of worry filled him when he realized that the big screen no longer showed her car. If anything went wrong, Blake would never forgive him.

He rushed over to the race coordination team. "I'm requesting to stop the race! The clouds are gathering, there's lightning and thunder, and the screen shows no sign of our club's driver. If something happens, no one will ever know if it's accidental or intentional!"

The race officials huddled together in a quick discussion. One of them eventually turned to Marcelo and said, "Once the race starts, we cannot halt it. The harsh environment only further tests a good driver's skills, doesn't it?"

As Marcelo argued with the race officials, Bart had also noticed the ominous change in the sky. His eyes darkened. "Wynter, huh? You won't be coming back this time. Not everyone can participate in this race."

Meanwhile, the murmurs in the crowd continued.

"What's going on? Wasn't it just sunny a few moments ago? Why is there lightning now?"

"And where did the drone following Wynter go? The screen only shows the other racers."

Marcelo's concerns were almost spilling over the screen.

But Bart merely smiled faintly as he looked down. In his mind, the race was already over, with no room for suspense. No one could escape the Spirit Token. He knew this all too well, especially after seeing Ross meet his end in the same way.

Meanwhile, Wynter's speed remained undiminished. She glanced at the storm clouds and lightning above with not a hint of emotion.

From within the purple sugilite pendant, Leo peeked his head out. "Master, why has the weather suddenly turned like this?"

Wynter gestured toward the Spirit Token by her side.

Leo followed her gaze and gasped. "Master! Someone is trying to harm you!"

Raising an eyebrow, Wynter said, "Give it a sniff. See if there's any trace of energy on it."

Obediently, Leo leaned closer and took a sniff. "There's the energy of the person who checked the car earlier. And there's also… hmm, intermittent traces of power. Someone with authority."

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck Wynter's car just as she was approaching a sharp curve. With a flawless drift, she dodged the lightning effortlessly, leaving scorch marks on the ground.

Leo, his pacifier in his mouth, was awestruck.

Wynter raised an eyebrow. "The authority you sensed—are they here at the scene?"

Leo shook his head.

Wynter frowned. "Then remember this sensation."

Leo nodded vigorously. After all, he would remember whatever Wynter asked him to.

Wynter cast a calm glance at the descending lightning, her gaze indifferent, as though it was beneath her notice. "The farce ends now."

As soon as she spoke, Wynter began chanting a soft incantation. Moments later, the Spirit Token ignited, burning away to leave behind nothing but a few specks of black ash.

…

Just then, an old man resting in his office suddenly seemed to sense something. His aged face darkened as he muttered, "I didn't expect anyone to be able to break my Spirit Token."

The Spirit Token was impervious to water and fire, and only powerful Arcane Way techniques could completely destroy it. A low-level cultivator could only look on helplessly.

A knock sounded on the door. "Sir, your speech is about to begin."

The old man's expression returned to calm at the reminder. "Alright, let's go."

…

As soon as Wynter burned the Spirit Token, the lightning and dark clouds in the sky instantly vanished, as if they had never appeared.

Marcelo was still arguing fiercely with the race committee about halting the competition.

Meanwhile, in the audience stands, excitement surged as they saw Wynter's blazing red Batmobile reappearing on the screen.

"I knew it! My goddess could never be defeated! Not even by lightning or storms!"

"Who would've thought Blake's record would be broken by his own sister?"

"From today on, my racing idol has changed from Blake to Wynter!"

Buck also noticed the change in the sky. Slamming the gas pedal, he could see the scorched trace of a lightning strike on the ground ahead, but her car was already long gone.

She had dodged it all. Buck had been planning to use this blind spot to fake an "accident", but he couldn't even see her car's taillights.

"Wynter from the Quicksilver Club, in the fiery red Batmobile, is now on the final track! Everyone, hold your breath and watch to see if this racer can set a new record!"

No sooner had the announcer finished speaking than Wynter's car shot across the finish line. With a flawless drift, the car elegantly crossed the line.

In an instant, the entire arena erupted into thunderous cheers and applause.

Buck pounded his steering wheel in frustration, his gaze toward Wynter filled with venomous hatred.

Bart, who had been lurking backstage, stepped out only to see Wynter's victorious figure displayed prominently on the screen as the champion.

He froze, and even his movements slowed. The Spirit Token should have worked. He couldn't understand how she was still alive and made it to the finish line!

At the same time, Marcelo rushed over to Wynter's side.

"Are you okay? I kept trying to reach you through the intercom when the sky started changing, but you didn't respond at all."

Most people would have been caught up in the excitement of the victory, but Marcelo's first concern was for her safety. It was no wonder Blake had entrusted him with running the club.

Wynter, hearing his words, removed her helmet. "I'm fine, but a certain someone is about to not be okay."

Just as Wynter finished speaking, Buck's car crossed the finish line, earning him second place. However, no one paid him any attention. The spotlight had been on the champion—Wynter—the entire time, and the crowd continued chanting her name.

Buck clenched his fists tightly. He knew all too well how much money his club had invested in him. His manager, Adler Kelan, shot a glare at him with his bloodshot eyes.

At that moment, Buck realized that losing wasn't the worst outcome. The real nightmare lay in what awaited him after the loss. The crushing weight of a staggering betting agreement loomed over him, and then there was Lenny!

Buck began trembling, knowing Lenny would never let this slide. Angering him could spell the end of his racing career! He remembered the influential people he'd met. Losing today didn't just mean losing his career, it also meant that survival would become nearly impossible!

Still seated in his car, Buck started shaking uncontrollably.

Before he could process the situation further, Adler yanked open the car door, yelling, "What the hell happened out there? Didn't you promise you'd win? I'm going straight to Mr. Malone about this!"

Lenny? No, absolutely not! Buck knew he couldn't let him find out!

Now frantic, he burst out of the car and lunged for Adler's phone, trying to snatch it away.

Many cameras turned toward them, capturing every moment. But Buck no longer cared about appearances or consequences.

Adler shouted at him, "Are you out of your mind? Let go!"

"Malone Group, are you not going to respond to this? Ms. Quinnell, who avoids the limelight, gave you this much attention."

"So, you're the ones hiding behind a righteous facade while harming others, huh?"

"How is a company like this still considered a 'charity enterprise' in our city? Digging into this is shocking—turns out they're members of the Southern Chamber of Commerce and have connections up high. Even the Secretary-General personally welcomed them. Impressive!"

The Malone family's business had always relied on a web of connections. As long as they kept a low profile, no one would know how much money they were making.

Some truly wealthy individuals operated in a completely different realm. Their businesses were monopolistic, far removed from the consumer-driven world that most people imagined.

For them, as long as their family and backing remained intact, their fortunes were virtually untouchable. To these people, money was nothing more than a number.

"Now I finally understand the meaning behind Ms. Quinnell's final words. The Malone family has powerful backing. That's why Lenny dares to act with such impunity."

Initially, the Malone Group dismissed all these speculations as insignificant.

Even the family's "princess", Anatasia Malone, about 17 or 18 years old, was busy filming videos. When someone discovered her online presence, she brazenly commented, "A bunch of poor dogs barking for attention."

She positioned herself as part of the high-end social elite. In her eyes, this uproar was inconsequential.

Previously, she had caused drama on a reality show by acting manipulative. She had tried stealing someone else's boyfriend. When the man rejected her, she smeared the woman he liked.

Later, the other woman somehow managed to clear her name. But so what? The Malone family had plenty of resources and connections. There would always be someone to clean up her mess. Her fans still fawned over her, calling her "baby".

Anastasia certainly wouldn't take such matters seriously. If someone dared to cross Lenny, he would simply make them disappear.

Indeed, the Malone Group's arrogance ran deep—it was ingrained in their bones. After all, their business primarily dealt with state-owned enterprises. They didn't need to please regular consumers.

At this point, the Malone family had no idea that an impending disaster was looming.

The current situation was merely the first move in Wynter's strategy. She hadn't yet played her final card because she needed to handle the Chamber of Commerce first.

In truth, when it came to brewing public opinion, those in power tended to act with deliberate delay. Adding to this, no one from her side had yet reached out to leverage connections.

Interestingly, it was the Malone family who requested the matter be suppressed. This perhaps reflected the mindset of those in high positions. They believed any issue could be suppressed and forgotten.

Similarly, they assumed ordinary people could never make significant waves.

What concerned them slightly was Wynter's background—they feared the involvement of the Keller and Yarwood families. Seeing no action from either, they dismissed the situation entirely.

…

Back at the club, Bart had packed everything and quietly slipped out through the venue's back door.

Just as he was about to breathe a sigh of relief and contact his associate, a figure suddenly leaped down, blocking his path.

It was Rebecca. She pressed her earpiece and said, "Boss, I've caught the fish you told me to. The system confirmed that he's indeed a spy."

Bart's face turned pale, and with a clatter, his phone dropped to the ground. He didn't know who Rebecca was, but he knew that anyone capable of identifying him as a spy had to be from one of Cascadia's Special Units. There was no escape for him now!

…

Meanwhile, Nickson, the officer questioning Blake, was still unaware of the gravity of the situation. After all, it took time for information to be relayed.

Just like Lenny who was currently at the Chamber of Commerce, Nickson was still thinking about the wealth that would soon fall into his hands in just a few more minutes.