The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1847

Before long, Fabian arrived at the hotel. Just as he entered his room, the phone in his pocket started ringing. He sat down and pulled his phone out for a glance. It was Virgil, who was already calling again despite having just parted ways.

Fabian couldn't quite fathom it, but he still answered the call. "Is there anything else?"

The voice on the other end sounded sinister. "One last question. You don't want to invest in Colifernia, do you?"

Upon hearing these suspicious words, Fabian's voice deepened. "What if I don't?"

An eerie laugh came through. "I gave you a chance, but you didn't treasure it. You've probably heard that your granddaughter's gone missing, haven't you? Well, I'll be honest with you—she's not coming back.

"Keep being stubborn, and soon, the whole world will know. Of course, it doesn't matter if the general public finds out, but what about the Chamber of Commerce? What about the Quinnell Group?"

Fabian's heart tightened instantly at the mention of Wynter. "What do you mean? Is Wynter with you?"

"No, no. She's gone where she was meant to go. That's not what you should be thinking about right now. You should be considering whether you're going to inject funds into Colifernia. If you do, she may have a chance to return."

Only then did he understand that the talk about investment was just a front. Once the money went in, it would most likely become a complete loss.

Noticing his silence, Virgil continued speaking. "It seems like you've figured it out. The investment thing was just an excuse. But now, with things as they are, you have no choice but to follow my orders."

Fabian's heart churned. If something really happened to Wynter, he would have to live the rest of his life in regret. He gathered his thoughts and steadied his voice, saying, "You're not the person you used to be. I sensed it the moment I stepped into the café."

Virgil coolly replied, "Humans are willing to die in the pursuit of wealth—I'm sure you know that better than anyone else, so I'll cut the nonsense. What's your choice?

"Do you want the possibility of your granddaughter coming back, or do you want the Chamber of Commerce and the Quinnell Group to find out something's happened to her? If so, the chamber will be in chaos, and it'll be even more difficult for her to return to the Quinnells."

Fabian paused to think for a moment. "I choose Wynter."

Virgil chuckled. "Was that so hard to pick in the first place? You didn't have to make things messy for us. Same café, same time tomorrow. I'll be waiting."

With that, he hung up. Fabian clutched his phone as a wave of helplessness washed over him.

Yet, it would be enough if Wynter returned safely, even if it meant losing the company. He would just have to contact the finance department to check the working capital.

…

After ending the call, Virgil drove straight to the entrance of a courtyard.

Just as he got out of the car, a hoarse voice came from the courtyard. "Come on in. The door's not locked."

Upon hearing that, he pushed the door open and walked in. As he looked over, he saw the old man watering some plants in the courtyard. The latter sensed his gaze, set the watering can down, and turned to face him. "How did it go?"

He gave a slight bow. "It's done. When I brought it up during our chat, he refused. I then contacted him again and used what you told me. Sure enough, he gave in."

The old man's expression remained calm. "After all, that young lady is his weakness. Always aim for their weaknesses."

"What should we do next?"

The old man paced around with his hands clasped behind his back. "Get someone to spread word to the Chamber of Commerce. Tell them their chairwoman has gone missing and won't be coming back."

Virgil looked puzzled. "But if we do that, there's no way that old man will hand the company over to us."

The old man showed a look of disdain. "The company? It's worthless. What I want is the Quinnells' fortune. Once we've taken every last bit of it, they will fall apart themselves."

Virgil nodded, replying, "You're more visionary than I am. I'll get someone to tell the chamber that their chairwoman's gone missing."

The old man waved his hand in dismissal. "Go. Get it done smoothly."

"Alright." With that, Virgil headed for the door, then drove away.

After he left, the old man sat on a stone, muttering to himself, "Once the Quinnells descend into chaos, I'll seize their fortune completely and use it for the Life Force Absorption. I'll finally break through to become a grand master."

His gaze then shifted to the ground under his feet. Though it was solid earth, his eyes seemed to pierce right through it to glance straight at the people hidden below. Only three more to go, and all ten would be complete.

…

Meanwhile, a bombshell had just dropped in the Chamber of Commerce.

"What? Ms. Quinnell is in trouble?"

"Yes, we just got the word. Something happened to her, and she's not coming back."

"Didn't Mr. Sinclair say that she had just gone to handle some matters and she would be back soon?"

"That was just him trying to calm you all down. Ms. Quinnell's phone hasn't been reachable, and no one's been able to contact her. Was there something that needed to be kept so secret?"

The news spread like wildfire, and soon enough, everyone in the chamber knew.

In the meeting room, Cleo was in the middle of assigning tasks to the management team when noise from outside started filtering in. He pulled the door open and looked out. "Don't you all have work to do? Why are you all gathered around?"

"Tell us, Mr. Sinclair, did something happen to Ms. Quinnell?"

Cleo was caught off guard for a moment but quickly composed himself. "Who told you that? How would anything happen to her? She'll be back soon after she's done handling matters."

Despite saying that, the worry in his heart was still inevitable. Indeed, she had been unreachable for a while, but he couldn't let those emotions show within the Chamber of Commerce. If anyone with ill intentions noticed, it could spell trouble for the entire chamber.

Upon hearing the commotion outside, the management team members' expressions gradually changed. They muttered quietly among themselves.

"What do you think?"

"We're talented, but we still have to listen to some old man. I feel bothered by it—how about the rest of you?"

"I feel the same. We've got the skills. If we went to other companies, we'd at least be in management at some major corporation, making more money. We wouldn't have to deal with these ridiculous rules."

"How about this? Let's meet up tonight and have a proper discussion."

After that, the group returned to their usual seats, as if nothing had happened. Yet, the rumors were already spreading.

Cleo knew well that if Wynter didn't return soon, everything in the Chamber of Commerce would fall apart. After all, for a long time, the most unpredictable thing in the world had always been the human mind.

…

At the same time, countless spirits struggled atop Mt. Nyxvarn. It didn't seem like they were trying to possess living beings, but it was more of seeking release. The mountains started to fade gradually.

The deepest regret was that none of them were there to spend the following days with her.

As if she could hear the slight tremors of these souls, Wynter paused in the center of the main hall. A tight pain clenched in her chest. With red eyes, she smiled and said, "I hear you."

In response, streaks of glowing spirits fell all around her.

No wonder she excelled at everything. It was because her fellow apprentices had passed on all of their skills to her. These included divination, soul-summoning, and swordsmanship. After all, they were worried that she wouldn't be able to live well on her own.

She clenched her fists as her shoulders trembled slightly. Yet, she didn't stop the walls around her from crumbling.

She wanted to leave. The one behind the formation—the person who killed Ailithir, murdered her fellow disciples, and destroyed Mt. Nyxvarn—was still outside.

She lowered her gaze, and her expression was more unreadable than ever before.

Outside, someone was trying to maintain the formation by feeding it more and more blood-infused resentment.

A voice drifted into her ear, asking, "Are you really willing to let your seniors fall into hell again, with their souls crushed to bits?"

Wynter didn't answer. She knew that the one asking that question might very well be herself. She also knew this was exactly what the person outside was banking on, even if they thought this formation followed the heavenly laws.

Her lips curved, but there was no warmth in her smile. With the Soul Commanding Badge in hand, this formation was hers to conquer. If she wanted it to collapse, then it would collapse. This time, it would be the culprit having their soul crushed!

Her long hair thrashed around, though there was no wind. Even her cloak was flapping loudly behind her.

Mt. Nyxvarn, a place rarely touched by heavy fog, now seemed engulfed by thick, dark clouds. To the servants, it looked like a celestial anomaly had descended.

Yet, one person knew that this was a sign of a formation falling apart.

Standing in the mist, Dalton had just been watching Raleigh's room not far away. He had been frowning, but something in his gaze shifted right after.

His dark pupils started glinting like stars on a winter night. Snow fell on his shoulder. He stood straight and solitary, but his presence was aloof with untamed pride.

Nothing around him could taint his inherent sense of nobility. If anything, it was the formation behind him that seemed particularly fragile.

Countless spirits soared toward the sky. When a Sacrificial Human Formation fell apart, countless malevolent spirits with resentments would be released.

Yet, none of those spirits dared to stand in his way. They scattered off on their own as they got near him. It wasn't because of some talisman on his body, but his very being had struck genuine fear into every spirit.

Dalton didn't spare another moment standing there. He turned and strode toward the main hall where Wynter was. There was no one there. Even the bed-warming boy toys he never cared for were disappearing one by one.

His surroundings became seemingly devoid of life. Everything was indicating to him that none of these were real. This was nothing more than a formation, and now she was going to break it.

That realization made his hand pause for a second before the sky was filled with thunderstrike trials. Reasonably speaking, he should not be forcing his mortal body to suppress a formation.

Yet, he no longer cared. He had to make her stay. He had to tell her that reality existed wherever he was. His features began to shift, as though he had matured instantly.

Now, Dalton was no different from the version of him outside the formation. The only thing that differed was his presence. Clad in a red robe with billowing sleeves, an evil aura shrouded him. The color engulfed the sky, its pressure suffocating all beneath it.

Death bells rang with every step he took, and red spider lilies bloomed where he tread. Golden-brown markings, akin to Fankrit inscriptions, spread from his neck.

Just as Wynter was about to vanish into the heart of the formation, he appeared before her and grabbed her wrist. In a low voice, he murmured, "Miss, you brought me up this mountain. It doesn't make sense for you to leave me behind and walk away alone."