The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1871

Bertie strode toward Ingrid and reached out, only to stop abruptly. Looking down, he saw Wolf gripping his wrist.

"Where did this brat come from? Get out of the way!" Bertie snapped with a frown. When he attempted to yank Ingrid over, he found that he couldn't budge.

He tried to seize Wolf with his other hand, but a kick to his torso sent him flying to the ground. As his subordinates hauled him back up, he roared, "That brat is too strong! Get him, boys!"

At his command, the kidnappers closed in on Wolf.

Ingrid was terrified and hurriedly urged, "Let's go, Wolf. These guys are dangerous."

However, Wolf shot her a reassuring smile. "There's no need to run, Ms. Ingrid. Watch."

The kidnappers, having Wolf cornered, lunged toward him. Wolf scoffed at their ignorance—strength was his game, after all.

The next second, Wolf grabbed the closest kidnappers and hurled them aside. The two kidnappers crashed onto the ground, lying still in pain as though their bones had crumbled to dust.

The remaining kidnappers were stunned. Before they could retreat, Wolf grabbed their arms and tossed them away just as easily.

"You're weak," Wolf commented, brushing dust off his hands.

The kidnappers, now sprawled on the ground, gaped at him in horror. With strength like that, Wolf was no ordinary child. They should never have judged a book by its cover.

Regaining his senses, Bertie shook off the pain and shouted in fury, "You won't get away with this!"

That said, he knew the odds were stacked against him. If Wolf had landed just a few more hits, they wouldn't be breathing now.

With that, the kidnappers helped each other up and staggered into their minivan before disappearing down the road.

Ingrid turned to Wolf with widened eyes. "You're really strong, Wolf!"

Wolf giggled. "I'm not that strong. I just have a lot of muscles! When I was staying with Grandma, I did a lot of heavy lifting!"

Despite the lighthearted chatter, Ingrid couldn't shake her worry. Judging from the kidnappers' statement, it was clear they had planned to leverage her to pressure her father, Antoine, into compliance.

As upset as she was with Antoine's treatment of her mother, Ingrid knew she needed to speak with him after what had happened.

…

Meanwhile, the kidnappers, having fled the scene, drove into an open clearing. As soon as the driver pulled over, a man in a suit stepped out of the shadows. Noticing his appearance, Bertie hurriedly got out of the minivan and reported, "It didn't work out."

Hearing that, Lorcan shot Bertie a cold glare. "How could you fail such a simple task? Can a group of burly men not even bring back one young woman? What good are you to me, then?"

Without warning, Lorcan delivered a sharp kick that sent Bertie tumbling to the ground. Still reeling from Wolf's earlier blow, Bertie could barely stay on his feet.

Bertie's subordinates quickly explained, "It's not what you think, sir. We got beaten badly. That woman has a kid with her, and he's awfully strong. He sent Boss flying and took us all down. We couldn't stand a chance against him."

Lorcan's gaze turned colder. "A child? You're talking about that boy beside Ingrid, right? Are you testing my patience? Are you telling me a bunch of grown-ups were beaten by a child?"

"It's true, sir. We barely escaped with our lives. If we hadn't fled, we'd probably be dead by now," a subordinate continued nervously.

Lorcan studied them carefully, noting their ragged clothing and heavy breathing. He seemed to accept their story. "Go back for now. But if you mess up again, you won't be staying in Havenia much longer."

The subordinates hurriedly nodded and helped Bertie into the minivan. The minivan then sped off, leaving Lorcan behind.

As he watched the minivan disappear down the road, Lorcan gathered his thoughts and murmured, "And here I thought I could use you as leverage against your father. Then the whole Chamberlain Group will be under my control. I underestimated the kid. You won't be so lucky next time."

As it turned out, Lorcan was the mysterious man Wolf had stumbled upon earlier—the very same man responsible for the murders of Jemima and Quentin. However, the reasons behind their death remained a secret only Lorcan knew.

…

Back in Bayhealth Hospital in Colifernia, Dalton was speaking to Wynter, his voice low enough that only she could hear. He sat so close to her that she could feel his breath.

Wynter raised her hand and caressed Dalton's face, smiling. "I wouldn't be Wynter Quinnell if I didn't have the courage to risk my life for you."

Dalton returned the smile, but it was bittersweet. After everything that happened, Wynter had finally returned to his side, yet all he felt was a deep sense of distress.

"You know, I'm terrified of losing you. I'm afraid you'll sacrifice your life for mine. That's the last thing I want. You're the most important to me, and I can't bear to see you in danger. I love you, Wynter," Dalton confessed.

He gently brushed Wynter's hair from her face, and his eyes were filled with tenderness.

From the very beginning, Dalton had never voiced his love for Wynter. Though his feelings for her ran deep, he kept them hidden, choosing to instead express his love through actions.

But after everything that had happened, he decided to voice his thoughts. The moment those words left his mouth, he felt a weight lift from his chest.

Wynter was surprised by the sudden confession. Despite sharing a married couple's dynamic, they had never openly spoken of love. Now, with Dalton laying his heart bare, he seemed like an entirely different person.

Jenson, who had been watching the couple, hurriedly stopped the hospital staff from rushing in. "There's no need to go inside."

Being the heavenly law's manifestation, he had always been above everyone else. He had never considered why they clung to emotions and desires. After all, everything was fated to unfold in its own time.

But when he lost Wynter, he realized that not all fates were meant to be accepted. Some existences left marks too deep to be wiped away, even if memory faded. Indeed, Wynter was the one who saved him and was also the first mortal he was interested in within the living world.

With that realization, Dalton deepened the kiss. He was usually reserved and indifferent, but now a raw aggression took over. At long last, the restraint he held onto snapped.

The air in the ward grew thick with heat. Wynter could feel the tingling numbness spread through her body, a deep sensation that seemed to radiate from her bones. The warmth on her lips was almost searing, as if it could burn her. Yet, Dalton gave her no chance to escape, not even an inch.

In that moment of heat, Wynter was drawn back to a vivid dream when Dalton had imprisoned her. Or perhaps, it was a memory far too real to dismiss.

Dalton had held her captive on a crimson hanging bed, just right by a secluded hot spring. The chains around her ankles were specially crafted, their metallic sounds echoing his hidden desires.

The sounds had lasted longer than they should have, amplified by his brute force. Dalton refused to let her go, waiting for her to beg for mercy.

Unfortunately, she had been under a spell, unable to respond. Still, her body hadn't forgotten the agitation in her veins—only he had ever made her feel that way.

It was hard to say who was more addicted to the other, especially when their bodies had become so attuned to one another at a certain point.

In Wynter's memories, the water had always been warm. Dalton pinned her against the edge of the hot spring, his long, dark hair cascading down his back. He had always loved marking her skin. As he nibbled on her collarbone, the red tulle around them fluttered in the air.

Each time Wynter tried to push him away, she only fell deeper into the overwhelming ecstasy. Dalton knew exactly where she was weak.

The breathing against her ears grew heavier, and his hands crept to her chest. Her collar was askew, and even her pale lips had been kissed into a soft shade of crimson. Her eyes, gleaming red, carried a fragile allure that invited ruin, and her beauty mark added to the temptation.

No man wouldn't want her, not even someone like Dalton. Yet, Wynter remained blissfully unaware of her charm. She never realized how irresistable she truly was, to the point where she could break his resolve. She was like a temptress, drawing others to commit wrong.

The look in Dalton's eyes turned dark as an unfamiliar, destructive urge simmered within. He pressed Wynter down further as his lips trailed down her nape. His hand pinning her wrist in a grip, unwilling to stop.

Wynter felt the pull of temptation, but the noises outside prompted her to push Dalton away. She silently gestured to him to release her hands.

Dalton met her gaze and complied without hesitation. In the next breath, Wynter slid her arms around his neck and pulled him back in for a deeper kiss.

"I-I love you, too, but this isn't the place for that," she said between breaths.

Standing guard outside, Jenson casually glanced up only to be met with the steamy scene unfolding before him. He quickly turned his head away, pretending he hadn't seen anything. If Dalton ever realized he had caught a glimpse, the consequences would be dire.

Just then, Dalton raised his hand and summoned a barrier. "It is now."