The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1742

Wynter turned her gaze toward the source of the voice. The speaker was none other than Buck, the third-place racer featured on the poster earlier. He looked decent enough, but nothing decent ever came out of his mouth. His words were laced with disdain for Blake.

Back when Buck was still a part of Blake's club, he earned a steady salary while secretly participating in rigged races as a side job. Blake, someone intolerant of deceit, didn't publicize the scandal but swiftly kicked Buck out of the club.

Instead of feeling any gratitude, the ungrateful Buck was now here, ridiculing Blake in his time of need.

Marcelo Woodward, visibly furious, shot back, "Buck, you know very well what you did. The boss spared your future and reputation by not exposing you, but that doesn't mean no one knows the truth!"

Everyone nearby perked up their ears, eager to know what he was talking about.

Upon noticing this, Buck barked, "What are you all staring at? Do you have nothing better to do?"

At his outburst, the group quickly dispersed, unwilling to offend him, especially with his impending championship victory all but assured.

Buck then turned his scornful gaze to Marcelo. "You're nothing but Blake's loyal lapdog, Marcello. If Blake actually makes it out of jail, I'll change my last name to his!"

He continued, sneering, "What's the point of staying here? We used to be colleagues, so don't say I'm not giving you a chance.

"The club I'm in now is one of the best internationally. It's miles ahead of Blake's tiny operation. If you still want a career in racing, come with me. Dissolve this club right here and now!"

His words began to sway a few people.

Marcelo, however, let out a cold laugh. "Do you think you can compare yourself to Blake? He's a racing genius with an undefeated record, someone who's brought honor to our country on international stages. And you? All you've done is disgrace us!"

Buck's face darkened at Marcelo's words, and he snapped, "You're really choosing to do things the hard way, huh? Do you really think Blake is some saint? He killed Ross just to win. He—"

Before he could finish, a blur appeared before him, and a bang sounded.

With a single kick, Wynter sent him flying several feet across the floor, leaving everyone in the room stunned.

Buck clutched his side, nearly spitting blood. The impact knocked him back by a dozen steps, and he landed unceremoniously on a stack of tires nearby.

Standing over him, Wynter looked down coldly. "My brother is not someone you get to talk about."

"Brother? Is the boss her brother?"

A buzz of chatter broke out around them. Marcelo was the only one too shocked to respond.

Blake's background had always been kept under wraps. The Quinnell family's six brothers had always been like this, each carving out their own path and building their achievements in their fields without leveraging the family's resources.

None of these people had ever seen Wynter before. Those in the racing world had little reason to pay attention to financial news, so naturally, none of them recognized Wynter.

Marcelo, however, had often heard Blake talk about his little sister being back recently.

Blake had come to Colifernia for the race specifically to surprise her, but Marcelo hadn't expected Blake's "sweet and gentle" sister to just walk in and kick someone. And the one she kicked was Buck, no less.

Considering Buck's substantial net worth and backing by the Malone family—one of the sponsors—Marcelo instinctively stepped forward to shield Wynter, fearing she'd get herself into trouble.

Ever since Buck transferred to a foreign club, he hadn't endured such humiliation. His expression darkened as he glared at Wynter. "Are you really Blake's sister?"

Wynter politely pushed Marcelo aside, raising an eyebrow. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Buck retorted coldly, "Do you even know who I am? How dare you hit me?"

Wynter chuckled in response. "Oh, I know exactly who you are—the eternal third place. With my brother around, you could never win. Without my brother around, you still couldn't win."

Buck gritted his teeth upon hearing this. "Very well! You'll be receiving a letter from my lawyer very soon!"

Wynter replied casually, "I don't have much patience—I can't wait for things. You can just give it to me now. Since I've been studying law, I can accept it now."

Wynter continued, knowing exactly how to piss people off, "Of course, you can always hit me back. I wonder if news of the top champion racer hitting someone will trend on social media."

"You!" Buck indeed wanted to hit her, but before coming here, he was warned not to cause any trouble.

Because of Blake's situation, there were still many reporters outside. Every move the remaining racers made was being watched. He couldn't afford to make any trouble before the finals. As such, he could only take the kick in silence.

Wynter might seem young, but she had an unsettling air about her.

Buck had thought that everything else would progress smoothly after Blake was arrested. He never expected to encounter such a reckless person!

Still, he didn't want to take this lying down. "I guess you haven't heard of the Malone family of Colifernia or Mr. Malone himself, but it's fine."

He glanced around. "Now that Blake's in prison, the club has no racers left to race. You won't last long, either. I'll let you keep up this act—once I win the championship, this place will shut down!"

The people in the workshop changing tires and checking the equipment stopped what they were doing. They all knew that what Buck was saying was the most pressing issue the club was facing right now.

Tomorrow was the finals, and Blake wouldn't be able to show up. A club without a solid racer would only be eliminated.

"Don't be so arrogant, Buck!" Marcelo clenched his fists.

Buck sneered. "Am I not speaking the truth? Who will be the racer tomorrow—you, who can't even hold a steering wheel properly, or the guy who's so useless he can't even make it into the top 20?"

Buck pointed to a racer in a club uniform. That racer, indeed, wasn't skilled. His face turned bright red, but he didn't dare to speak a word, afraid of offending the sponsors backing Buck.

"So, Marcelo," Buck continued confidently, "I'm just kindly giving you advice. Sell your shares to Mr. Malone and get out while you can. If you wait for Blake, you'll all be finished."

Marcelo was left speechless, unable to respond.

Buck added, "It would have been fine if you had done this earlier. Don't act tough if you don't have the ability to do so."

At this moment, Wynter spoke slowly, the mole at the corner of her eye giving her an almost sinister appearance. "Who told you that my brother's club has no racers?"

She raised her head, her gaze locking onto Buck's face. "I'll race."

Upon hearing this, Buck burst into laughter. It was as if he had just heard the most ridiculous joke. Everyone around them turned their gaze to Wynter, too, whereas Marcelo froze in place.

It wasn't surprising that they reacted this way. The rally race was filled with expert racers. How could a young lady compete?

One of the racers standing behind Buck shot Wynter a disdainful look. "You? Have you even driven a race car before?"

Wynter looked up, remarking, "As long as I'm better than a particular second-rate racer, that's good enough."

Buck was still laughing, but upon hearing Wynter's words, which seemed to imply that she was talking about him, he shouted angrily, "Who are you talking about? Who's a second-rate racer?"

If the club forfeited a race, it would be three years before they could compete again.

Wynter smiled faintly. "Then, there's no problem with me stepping in."

"But the car…" Marcelo glanced at the car that was sealed off.

Wynter's gaze darkened slightly. "I'll take care of the car problem. However, there is something I'd like to ask you, Marcelo. Can we talk in private?"

Marcelo looked around briefly. "Let's go to my office."

"Sure."

Marcelo had a feeling he knew what Wynter wanted to ask. He got straight to the point when they were alone.

"I was there when it happened. With your brother's reflexes, there was just no way he'd crash into Ross like that. I know his driving style too well. It must've been an issue with his brake pads."

Wynter appreciated dealing with sharp people. "You're spot on, Marcelo. I've spoken to my brother, and he mentioned the brakes, too. You haven't handed the inspection records to the police yet, have you?"

"No, I haven't had the chance yet," Marcelo replied, turning on his computer. "I've looked through them myself, but there was nothing wrong with them."

Wynter's gaze landed on the date. "The records show there were no issues before the race, but you're forgetting something. During the event, there are people who have access to the car. Besides my brother and you, who else got close to the car without raising suspicions?"

Marcelo's head shot up when he heard this. "It was Bart. He touched the car!"

"The racer who couldn't even make it into the top 20?" Wynter's memory was impeccable.

With a nod, Marcelo stood up in disbelief. "How could it be him? Blake has always treated him so well. When his mother was sick, it was Blake who gave him money."

"Perhaps he thought it wasn't enough," Wynter speculated. She might not be able to know her own kin's fate, but she could spot those who harbored resentment. Some people's envy would subtly show in their expressions, often without them realizing it.

Moreover, Bart Mcfarland's reaction earlier was strange. As a racer himself, he hadn't stood up for the club when it was insulted.

Without hesitation, Wynter immediately contacted Wolf to investigate Bart's relationships and retrieve footage from before the race.

If her guess was correct, Bart and Buck were closely connected. This deduction of hers wasn't baseless. Though Wynter had only intervened physically once earlier, she had been observing everyone carefully.

Interpersonal social distance had its nuances, both in terms of physical stance and psychological factors.

Marcelo's disdain for Buck was evident, but Bart showed no such sentiment. Instead, he had stood unusually close to Buck. Although Bart had tried to minimize his presence, Wynter had still noticed him.

With time, the connections between two scheming people would reveal themselves.

"Marcelo," Wynter saved some evidence to her device, "I have a meeting with the Chamber of Commerce today, so I need to get going. I'll be here on time for the race tomorrow. As for the car, it'll be delivered tonight."

Marcelo, seeing her about to leave, grew anxious.

Wynter turned back. "Blake may not have mentioned his background, Marcelo, so let me formally introduce him. He's the third son of the Quinnell family of Kingbourne."

Marcelo's eyes widened in shock when he heard her.

"The Quinnell family's legal team is not to be trifled with. Rest assured. I will be sure to return the favor to those who targeted my brother."