The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1764

The old man narrowed his eyes at those words. Having known the wooden doll, Gabby, for years, he was well aware of her strength and where her power worked best.

The Foplyans had gone to great lengths to resurrect their goddess. Logically speaking, eliminating Tobias wouldn't be difficult—unless someone was actively protecting him.

However, their setup today was designed to have Eric bring the mediums together in the chamber and exploit Tobias as a weak link to crack open the Quinnell family's defenses. In other words, no powerful medium should have been guarding Tobias. Just who on earth had derailed their scheme?

The old man's gaze darkened. Without the fortune from the chamber, he would have to explore other means to rebuild an immortal body.

"Try to get Kaspar away from that Quinnell girl," the old man instructed. "Is there any news about Logan?"

The cloaked figure shook his head. "I've spoken to some lingering spirits, but none has seen him."

"He's rather good at hiding. Use this to find him." With a wave of his hand, the old man dropped something in the cloaked figure's pocket.

The cloaked figure nodded respectfully. "Understood. However, you won't be able to stay longer in that body. Perhaps, we should find a new one."

The old man gave a sinister chuckle. "There's no need for that. That body's the safest bet, but this one… Now that Eric has been captured, there's no need for this body. Pull some strings and stop those investigations."

"Understood." The cloaked figure immediately heeded his command.

…

As the night grew darker, nobody knew what changes would occur next.

After Eric's arrest, he had contacted no one. Many had benefited from his schemes, so he knew they wouldn't let him take the fall alone. His influence stretched deep, and the chamber itself depended on him.

As for Wynter, he knew she would quickly learn that not everyone was qualified to become the chamber of commerce's president. She couldn't change people's habits no matter how hard she tried.

It didn't take long for Wynter to face the deeply ingrained patriarchy Eric had spoken of.

The misogyny amongst the chamber members ran deep. One particular clan leader refused to recognize her as the president, dismissing her as unqualified to lead.

Wynter's response was swift and decisive. She ousted him from the chamber and severed all resources to his family.

Misogyny and prejudice were common practices in cultures where familial influence dictated power.

Wynter couldn't tolerate most of their practices, especially the disrespect toward women. She didn't need control over everything, either, just the vital operations.

Eric had banked on Wynter being easily manipulated. Even as he sat in detention, he remained confident that his network would shield him.

That confidence cracked the moment Wynter walked into the interrogation room and sat across from him.

Eric's hands tightened into fists as he studied her, sensing that things had taken an unexpected turn.

Wynter calmly reviewed the file in front of her, her voice calm but piercing. "Mr. Lofstedt, you're quite popular. You've only just been brought in, and already so many people are pulling strings to get you out."

Eric squinted, his voice cold. "Why are you here?"

"Because this investigation is under my jurisdiction," Wynter replied, sliding a list of names across the table. "I hear you're quite the fisherman. You should know that catching fish requires good bait, and you, Mr. Lofstedt, are excellent bait.

"Instead of picking them off one by one, I prefer to let them surface on their own. Some people are clever enough to keep their distance, but not all of them."

She tapped a name on the list and continued, "You've got quite the network of connections. But during the chamber's last ceremony, you didn't invite your closest allies. Instead, you chose someone people you were merely acquainted with."

Eric's jaw clenched, the realization hitting him that this was a setup. He stayed silent.

Wynter glanced at him, her tone cutting. "Mt. Verfait has done a lot for you. But some of the witchcraft they've performed seem beyond their level. What's the relationship between that medium you know and your friend from Mt. Verfait?"

Eric sneered. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"That's typically the answer when the right question's being asked," Wynter said coolly, sliding a photograph toward him. "This is someone from the Winston family in Kingbourne. Surely, you recognize him.

"You're always after opportunities and gaining merits. Let me guess, you've already told him about the heavenly luck tied to me, haven't you?"

Eric clenched his hands. He never expected that Wynter would manage to unravel the schemes he and the medium had meticulously planned. He couldn't figure out how she found out about everything.

"Mr. Lofstedt, you've been through a lot. You're a smart man, so why would you believe that person would still protect you when you're no longer useful?"

With that, Wynter smiled and stood. She didn't have any further questions.

Eric watched her retreating figure, his demeanor shifting. The confidence he'd worn so casually before had started to crack.

On the table before him were detailed records of every bribe, deal, and under-the-table exchange he'd facilitated with high-ranking executives. It was a damning ledger of mutual dependency. If he went down, many of those same people would follow. They wouldn't let that happen without a fight.

Eric didn't know Wynter's exact role in this operation, but the speed and precision of her actions were disconcerting. He found himself glancing nervously at the surveillance cameras, anxiety prickling at his skin.

Outside the interrogation room, Wynter didn't waste time. "Start the car. We're paying some executives a visit."

Eric had recently cozied up with one of them, Alan Davidson. Wynter noticed that their interactions started two months ago. Coincidentally, Alan attended a conference at Hawford not long ago.

Wynter played with the spirit token in hand, thinking this was too much of a coincidence.

…

At a private estate elsewhere, a chauffeur hurried to open the car door. His voice was deferential as he said. "Careful, Mr. Davidson, don't hit your head."

Alan smiled kindly. "Thank you, Brian. It's a bit much having you drive me every time I want to check on my flowers."

Brian Hampton replied earnestly, "Mr. Davidson, it's no trouble at all. Wherever you need to go, I'll take you. It's my job."

Alan nodded appreciatively, letting out a light cough. "You can head back. I still have some documents to deal with."

"Of course," Brian replied, leaving promptly.

Alan lingered in the courtyard, his gaze resting on the newly planted magnolias. After a moment, he raised his hand absently, as if grasping an invisible thread, before turning and walking into his study.

In the kitchen, a housekeeper was finishing dinner preparations. She knocked lightly on the study door and called out softly, "Mr. Davidson, dinner is ready."

There was no response, and the housekeeper dared not disturb him, either.

"I'll keep the food warm for you. Let me know if you'd like me to reheat it." The housekeeper was well aware of her boundaries and returned to the kitchen.

Half an hour passed, and still, there was no sign of Alan. Glancing out into the courtyard, the housekeeper noticed the study lights were off, as if no one was inside.

Yet, in the faint moonlight, she could just make out a figure seated in the chair. Something about the posture seemed off—his hands appeared to be raised.

Hesitating at the base of the stairs, the housekeeper debated whether to call out again.

However, her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden chime of the doorbell. Startled, she hurried to answer it.

Standing outside was Wynter and two members of the investigative team. One of them was in uniform, ready to present identification.

"We're from the investigative unit. Is Alan Davidson home?"

The housekeeper paled at the mention of the unit, instinctively stepping aside. "He's in the study," she stammered.

The sender might not have known exactly who was investigating, but the message was clearly intended for the team.

Wynter clenched her fists. She turned sharply and ordered, "Check if there have been any other cases reported today in Colifernia, especially ones involving deaths."

…

At the girls' dormitory of Monway University, two girls had just returned to their dorm room after lunch. As they opened the door, they froze in horror, and one of them screamed.

The sight before them was shocking. A girl from their dorm, Stacey Perez, lay on the bed, her wrist dripping blood that pooled on the floor, staining it a vivid red. Her pale face was devoid of life.

"Stacey's dead!"

"What happened? She was fine just a few days ago!"

"Quick, call the police!"

"Get a teacher here!"

Panic spread through the dorm. The girls dashed out to call for help, knowing they couldn't waste a second.

It wasn't long before the police arrived. The officers took in the scene with heavy hearts. This was another young life that was tragically cut short.

One officer spoke up. "Who shares the dorm with her?"

"Mandy and Donna," someone replied, pointing to two girls standing off to the side.

Mandy Byer and Donna Newhart looked shell-shocked, their faces pale. Neither could fully process the gruesome scene. It felt unreal and was something they'd only seen in movies, but the reality was far more terrifying.

"You two, come with me to the station for questioning. Everyone else, clear out and don't disturb the scene," the officer instructed.

Mandy and Donna were escorted to the police station and taken to an interrogation room.

"Did you have any arguments with Stacey?" the police officer asked.

Both girls shook their heads vigorously. "No, we didn't. We didn't really get along with her, so we barely spoke."

The officer frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"She's vain and selfish. Everything had to revolve around her."

Donna added, "But, you know… she changed recently. She seemed off, like she wasn't herself. She was acting like a zombie. It was strange.

"Her family has money, but a couple of days ago, she came to me asking to borrow a few hundred bucks for food. She said she'd spent all her allowance for the month and would pay me back next month."

The officer leaned forward, about to press further, when another officer entered the room and leaned in close to whisper something.

"Sir, we've reviewed the surveillance footage. No one entered or left the dorm room. The forensics team and medical examiner have confirmed that this was a suicide."

The office nodded and told the girls, "You're free to go. Don't hesitate to call me if you remember anything else."

Mandy and Donna nodded quickly. "Okay. Thank you, officer."

They held onto each other as they left the station.

"Sir, we've unlocked Stacey's phone. It looks like she fell victim to a romance scam. The number she was in contact with isn't registered under a verified ID," another officer reported.