The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1765

Romance scams originated from foreign countries. The scammers used advanced computer technology to create fake online personas to target unsuspecting individuals. They would first gain the victim's emotional trust and then swindle them out of their money or valuables.

But looking at Stacey's profile, she didn't seem like someone who would fall for a scam so easily.

Meanwhile, news of her death had already gone viral. "Mysterious Death of a Female Student in Monway University's Dormitory!" was trending on social media.

Reporters wasted no time. A sensational headline was guaranteed to grab attention, and the suddenness of the incident only added to its allure. Whoever broke the story first would dominate the traffic.

…

At the same time, on the second floor of a house, Wynter stood in a study. The medical examiner had arrived, and the scene had been meticulously secured.

The victim's identity was no small matter. This case had to be reported to higher authorities, especially since there was no hiding the stacks of cash littered across the room.

Wynter pushed against the glass window slightly, her thoughts racing. The windows were locked from the inside, and there were no hidden passages or delayed mechanisms.

The medical examiner approached with the findings. "It's a suicide."

The death was, without question, self-inflicted—though the manner was undeniably strange.

Wynter's gaze swept over the room as she tapped her gloved finger against her phone screen. "I'll take over this case. Report it as a special circumstances investigation."

"A special circumstances investigation?"

The medical examiner's expression shifted slightly at the term. She had heard of such cases before, but this was her first time encountering one herself.

Could there be something supernatural involved? As someone who was materialistic, she believed everything had a scientific explanation.

Wynter met her gaze briefly before tapping her phone again. "Yes, this is an abnormal incident. I suspect someone used the internet to hypnotize the victim into committing suicide."

"What?" The medical examiner blinked, caught off guard. Hypnosis hadn't crossed her mind—it wasn't her area of expertise.

Wynter gestured to Alan's facial expression. "A person's expression changes at the moment of death, even in suicide. That's because their muscles tighten.

"But look at this victim—there's no tension. Instead, his expression is euphoric. Either he was under the influence of drugs or he was hypnotized. Judging by the circumstances, I'd say it's the latter."

The medical examiner's eyes lit up with understanding. "You're right that his expression is strange. Hypnosis would explain everything."

Wynter nodded slightly, offering no further comment.

The medical examiner's admiration for Wynter was evident in her gaze. Investigators like her were rare. It was no wonder she'd been assigned to such a specialized team. She couldn't help but wonder which department Wynter had come from—and whether they could keep her around.

Wynter, accustomed to such looks, paid it no mind. Her earlier statements, after all, weren't entirely truthful.

Leo was the one who provided the information. Being a spirit, he was highly attuned to supernatural energies, and the presence in this place was all too familiar to him.

"Master, I can feel his presence here!" Leo tugged at Wynter's sleeve and pointed at Alan, his face scrunched with anger. "It's him! He used me! That damned old medium has finally faced his reckoning!"

Wynter, however, didn't accept the conclusion so easily. "It's not that simple."

"It's him, Master! I can smell it!" Leo's nose twitched. "And his soul is gone. When a person dies without a soul, it means it was devoured while they were still alive. That old medium must have done it. You have to believe me!"

Leo, eager to prove his worth, raised his hand and cast a small spell. Then, he said in frustration, "Look! There's not a single spirit left in this area. That medium must have used them to forge souls!"

Wynter noticed it, too, especially when Leo mentioned forging souls. For some reason, her thoughts immediately jumped to the idea of ritual sacrifice.

"It's not that I don't trust you," Wynter said, her voice calm but deliberate," but after searching for him for so long, doesn't it seem a little too convenient that he's suddenly fallen into our lap? He must know about Eric's situation. This might be his way of shedding his skin and slipping away unnoticed."

Leo froze, tilting his head in confusion. "But there's definitely traces of him on this guy."

"You're right," Wynter replied, her tone steady. "He's definitely been around him. But now, he's activated a Sacrificial Human Formation, and that worries me."

Leo blinked, clearly puzzled. "Master, you're amazing at breaking formations. What's there to worry about?"

"I'm worried this formation is formed through the internet," Wynter said, picking up the phone on the table.

Messages like this were notoriously difficult to trace. Most of the time, the IP addresses were fake or routed through obscure, untraceable locations overseas. Even if they managed to track it, the lead would likely be useless.

Whoever had sent the message knew Wynter was getting close to the truth. The Sacrificial Human Formation wasn't just a distraction—it might be their ultimate goal.

Wynter narrowed her eyes. Whatever it was, she needed to stay sharp.

The old man was in Colifernia. That much was certain. Plus, Eric had been in contact with him. The troubling part was that Eric had likely met him in the guise of "Alan".

Wynter had reviewed Eric's phone records. Even deleted calls had been restored by the tech team. The last call Eric made before his capture was to the number on the phone in her hands.

She tapped lightly on the phone. "Take me to any spirits that are nearby," she instructed. She needed to know who Alan had interacted with and if there were any signs of something unusual in the area.

Leo nodded enthusiastically and followed her down the stairs.

The site remained tightly secured. The scattered money, clear evidence of embezzlement, would require a thorough investigation. But compared to the money, the human sacrifice was far more pressing. They would have to investigate other details while waiting for more information.

Leo was practically bouncing with excitement, eager to show off his abilities and prove his dominance among the spirits.

But before he could begin, Wynter stepped into the courtyard and stopped in her tracks. Standing in the street, as though waiting for her, was Dalton.

It had been two days since she last saw him, and though his presence felt the same, something about him seemed slightly different.

He wasn't wearing his usual sharp suit. Instead, he was clad in a sleek black trench coat that made him look even more striking. He stood there casually, yet his presence seemed out of place. His gaze was fixed on the study, his lips curved in a faint, almost mocking smile.

The sight reminded Wynter of the photograph on the chamber's wall. From her angle, his silhouette and the air around him mirrored the image perfectly.

Sensing her gaze, Dalton turned slightly, his impossibly deep eyes locking onto hers. His smile softened, and he greeted her in a husky tone, "I'm back."

Wynter hummed in response, overwhelmed with emotions. Dalton raised an eyebrow at her clipped response, intrigued.

"Come with me," Wynter said briskly. She had something important to do, and they could talk more later.

As they approached each other and Wynter moved forward to lead the way, Dalton reached out and caught her wrist. Instead of letting her pass, he pulled her close, pinning her gently against the corner of the wall.

"What's bothering you?" he asked, his voice low and probing. His presence was overwhelming, and his cool composure felt domineering.

By now, Leo had disappeared. No one in their right mind would stick around in Dalton's presence—except for Wyner.

"Do you know anything about this?" Wynter arched a skeptical brow. How did he always seem to know everything?

"I read a lot," Dalton said with a straight face. "Some old records from Mt. Dragon mention the behaviors of people who've been possessed."

"Books really do hold treasures," Wynter replied dryly, clearly unconvinced by his explanation, though she trusted the information itself. "So, what's the story?"

Dalton's lips curved into a faint, teasing smile. "He wasn't fully possessed. It's more accurate to call it a sacrifice. He agreed to let a malevolent entity use his body in exchange for extending his own life."

"It doesn't sound like a deal that ends well," Wynter muttered.

Dalton continued nonchalantly, "It doesn't, but humans have always been greedy. They'll believe in miracles if it suits them.

"At first, the sacrifice feels rejuvenated—healthier, younger, sharper. But it's all an illusion. They're burning through their life force. When the time comes, they die in whatever way the entity desires, their souls becoming its nourishment."

"Is that how human sacrifices work, too?" Wynter's tone sharpened, as though she'd caught onto something.

Dalton met her gaze and nodded slightly.

Just then, an officer approached them, momentarily startled by the scene before him. The sight of Wynter and Dalton so close together threw him off, but Wynter quickly adjusted herself, stepping away to regain some professional composure.

"What did you find?" she asked, walking toward the officer.

He lowered his voice. "There's been another case. Two hours ago, at Monway University, a student committed suicide. It's linked to a romance scam."

Both of these cases were similar since they were both online and ended up committing suicide.

She turned to glance at Dalton, whose expression made it clear he had already pieced together the implications. Whoever was behind this was sacrificing numerous spirits, all to serve something far darker.

…

It wasn't long before Stacey's parents arrived at the morgue. Their eyes were red with tears as they looked upon their daughter's lifeless body.

They couldn't understand why Stacey, a college student with a bright future, would take her own life. They would always provide her with everything she wanted.

The leading investigator, Marley Peralta, tried to offer some comfort. "Mr. Perez, we're investigating this thoroughly. I need to ask—was Stacey acting differently lately?"

Lionel Perez frowned, thinking back. "She'd been asking for money more often. Recently, she convinced me to buy her an expensive handbag that cost a few thousand dollars.

"She insisted on going by herself instead of letting her mother go with her, so I transferred her the money. Looking back now, something about it feels off."

Marley remained silent, letting the grieving parents spend their final moments with Stacey.

As he exited the morgue, another officer approached him. "Mr. Peralta, the Monway University case has gone viral. The comments online are stirring panic."

Marley took the tablet and skimmed the headlines and responses. "Have the PR team handle it," he instructed. "Also, investigate Stacey's social circle. If she was lured into this scam, there's likely a middleman involved."

…

Meanwhile, in a dimly lit room elsewhere, a group sat in silence, their attention fixed on the same viral headlines.