The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1741

Right then, Wynter's phone rang. She smirked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "It looks like we've got some work to do."

Whitley was still wondering what she meant when she stood up and walked out. As she went, she answered Lancelot's call.

"Ms. Quinnell, it's just as you predicted. One of the rally sponsors, Lenny Malone, invited Ross to a café for a meeting a few days before the race. Their discussion's exact details remain unknown, but Ross left with a look of absolute confidence as if the championship was already in the bag."

Lancelot continued to claim, "They must have made some sort of deal."

Wynter was not particularly surprised. She had Lancelot investigate this because the appearance of such an incident at the rally, along with the meticulously cleaned crime scene, indicated issues with either the organizers or the sponsors.

She put on her helmet, then tossed an identical one to Whitley in the back. The Bluetooth headset integrated into the helmet was both stylish and sleek.

Glancing down, she got straight to the point. "Lenny, huh? I've read his profile. He's a self-made man, and every project he backs always becomes a hit. I want to know if he has foreign capital backing him."

Lancelot exclaimed from the other end, "My dear Ms. Quinnell, you're as sharp as ever. What I was about to tell you was that his funding sources are unclear."

"Is the Colifernia Chamber of Commerce involved in this?" Wynter's questions were pinpoint accurate, each striking at the heart of the matter.

"Yes. You know how things work on the tracks—some people don't care about winning but about the gambling money behind the scenes.

"The money Lenny gains from underground betting can't go straight into his accounts, so he funnels it through overseas accounts linked to the Colifernia Chamber of Commerce. I'm sure you're familiar with this method."

In an indifferent tone, Wynter remarked, "I figured. With Blake's reputation and skill, as long as he's competing, no one else can make any money because the outcome is too obvious. They're not targeting him just because they have a problem with me."

In the real world, it was never as straightforward as going after a person's family just because of something as simple as disliking that person, especially here.

Wynter didn't believe her adversaries were foolish enough to cross a clear line without reason. Only potential profits could justify such a scheme. If there weren't an overwhelming amount of money at stake, no one would dare provoke the Quinnell family to this extent.

Eric sure knew how to leverage people's interests and motivations. He could even stir up old loyalists who had once sided with the Quinnell family.

And those prominent figures already tied to the Chamber of Commerce would find it easy to collaborate with him, especially the gray-area foreign capitalists. Anyone who stood in the way of their massive gambling profits would inevitably become a target.

Wynter let out a faint chuckle as her motorcycle roared to life. Her voice, unaffected by the rushing wind, carried a sharp determination as she said, "They really thought they could treat Cascadia like a playground for their reckless gambling after my many years of absence.

"Go through your connections carefully—I plan to uproot them entirely, and I wouldn't want you caught in the crossfire."

"I know, my dear Ms. Quinnell. Don't worry—I quit gambling years ago."

Lancelot once again thanked his lucky stars for Wynter not being his rival in the business world and for never harboring any malicious intentions toward Cascadia. Otherwise, he doubted he'd be living as comfortably as he was now.

In truth, Lancelot didn't think much of Cascadia before. After all, with the filters added to media portrayals, it looked as backward as it could get.

Before meeting Wynter, he always thought Cascadians were neither open-minded nor inclusive, only clinging to conservative ideas.

Lancelot could never forget his embarrassing loss to a young lady in Wanish City.

Wynter had completely changed his perception of Cascadians. This nation was mysterious and mighty, and its businesspeople possessed a unique commercial acumen that should not be overlooked.

It was this realization that prompted him to personally visit the country, a decision that turned into a journey that lasted four to five years. He found Cascadia captivating—not only was the market vast, but the people were also beautiful, and the food was plentiful and delicious.

From his perspective, the Colifernia Chamber of Commerce was indeed formidable. He knew several individuals involved in gray-market dealings through the Chamber of Commerce. However, they seemed unaware of the risk of provoking Wynter.

Back in the day, Wynter's creation of a business empire and her establishment of the dark web had utterly beaten them. They believed her absence indicated her lack of interest in current affairs, so they stirred up trouble.

What they didn't realize was that she would never stand idly by if Cascadia's interests were threatened—especially when her family members were involved.

After hanging up the call, Wynter wasted no time. She needed to visit the racing club under Blake.

For the incident to reach this stage, there had to be insider dealings by the organizers. Wynter was sure Eric must have had people planted in the investigation team.

She also understood how deeply some departments had been infiltrated. To eradicate these pests completely, she needed Blake to hold on a bit longer. Only when she appeared to be cornered would her enemies grow reckless and reveal themselves further.

Wynter had always thought that the pandemic's handling was rushed. There were things she hadn't had time to dig deeper into before the trail broke off at the traitor, Seraphine.

She had a feeling that the true mastermind was still in the provincial department, likely holding a position higher than Seraphine. Otherwise, how had defective medical equipment passed approvals? And how had the unauthorized medication so openly entered the market?

Although she appeared to have moved on, she had been quietly investigating these issues the entire time.

Eric was meticulous, unlike Kenton from Hawford, who acted recklessly. While it was apparent Eric was behind certain actions, his schemes were well-disguised, making it challenging to convict him without patience.

Wynter planned to use a different approach to identify Eric's backers this time.

Since the local Chamber of Commerce revered various mediums from different sects, Wynter decided to investigate the mysterious recurring mentions of Mt. Dragon. Even some of the symbols from "that person's" formations bore the hallmarks of Mt. Dragon.

However, she trusted Kaspar. Back in Kingbourne, Wynter had only noticed his efforts to extend his life by seizing fortune and finding a better body for himself. Now, Wynter suspected he was worshipping someone.

It couldn't be that doll—only people from Foplya would revere such sinister objects since they didn't have much of a history. What he worshipped had to be something far more significant.

After all, even the recent River God incident involving Zhask becoming a fully-fledged dragon was tied to a higher power—though its death was inexplicably abrupt.

Perhaps she should find an opportunity to question a certain someone about it in more detail.

…

The "someone" Wynter had in mind was distractedly waiting for updates at the moment. Dalton's attention wandered during a video conference, though his assistant didn't dare remind him.

He wasn't the type to burden his subordinates with overtime. As he flipped his phone, he looked up after the final project report and asked, "Does anyone have additional comments?"

After a brief hesitation, someone spoke up. "Mr. Lofstedt has contacted me several times, asking to meet you. He's concerned about potential business conflicts. Since you're currently in Colifernia, I think it might be worth arranging a meeting. What do you think?"

Dalton stared at the dark phone screen, knowing no more messages would come. Twisting his bracelet, he asked, "Mr. Malone, do you think I should as well?"

The person Dalton was talking to was Ronnie Malone, Lenny's cousin, who had some private dealings with Eric.

When Dalton posed the question, Ronnie's first reaction was panic.

Although he believed this young man from Kingbourne, who had just arrived in Colifernia, couldn't possibly know about his affairs, Dalton's reputation for ruthlessness left him trembling. After all, Dalton was rumored to be able to take one down for good without even batting an eye.

Unlike his audacious cousin, Ronnie was more risk-averse. He shook his head vehemently. "Mr. Yarwood, there's no need to meet him. We're not even in the same line of business."

"Oh?" Dalton raised a brow. "And what line of business is Mr. Lofstedt in?"

Outside, the wind howled fiercely.

The crow knew he had spoken out of turn. As his back stiffened, he dared not speak further.

The same applied to those so-called cultivators prying into Celestial secrets. If they desired ascension, why couldn't they rely on their own efforts instead of seeking shortcuts?

The crow was just afraid that perhaps these people were remnants of vitality Dalton had left behind in the past.

Logically, that didn't seem possible—after all, the last time Dalton ventured into the mountains was under the guise of a boy toy. Still, the crow couldn't help but recall the grand wedding of that time, and his thoughts grew uneasy.

He decided to forget it. It was better to focus on more pleasant matters, like the operation to rescue Blake.

He had grown quite fond of his human guise. Following Dalton meant he got to witness plenty of drama.

…

Meanwhile, Wynter arrived at the racing club and immediately sensed the heavy atmosphere in the air.

Blake's accident had triggered waves of scrutiny, so a lot of people showed up here demanding explanations. The mechanics were brought to the police station for questioning, along with the club manager and even the business representatives responsible for external affairs.

Blake, as a professional racecar driver with international endorsements, would undoubtedly face significant repercussions from the incident.

Outside the building, reporters swarmed like ants. Wynter avoided them by entering through a side door.

She had already received the surveillance footage from the day of the accident, courtesy of Wolf.

Based on Blake's account, Ross exhibited odd behavior during the critical turn. Wynter had reviewed Ross' racing history. He had always been obsessed with besting Rowan.

Wynter could now make an educated guess as to how a foreigner came to place faith in a Spirit Token. With Lenny backing his performance, Ross likely wasn't a true believer, but he wouldn't refuse to carry a Spirit Token, either. He probably never imagined the consequences would be so dire.

Moreover… Wynter raised an eyebrow as her gaze shifted upward. Her eyes landed on the prominently displayed participant roster.

Based on their plan, there was only one person who stood to benefit in the end—the third-place racer, Buck Cordova.

When two competitors fought, the third party would profit. With the first and second places losing their eligibility to compete, the underdog third place naturally became the undisputed champion in the finals.

There was no room for doubt. The bets from foreign investors would be placed on him, too—especially since the finals still had one more race to go.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?"

Finally, someone noticed Wynter. It was the club's manager, who looked desperate after making dozens of calls.

"We don't accept interviews. If you have any questions, wait for the police statement," he said, not giving Wynter a chance to respond.

Before she could say a word, a mocking laugh echoed from the side. "Marcelo, someone died because of Blake's crash, and everyone outside is now cursing your team. What news are you waiting for?

"If I were you, I'd be smart and adapt to the situation. Come join Soaring Club. You already know that Mr. Malone always has my back. A club of your size is nothing without Blake.

"Honestly, Blake is too arrogant. Back then, he couldn't stand me and kicked me out of the club. Look at him now—getting himself into trouble. He truly deserves it!"