The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1775

Seeing the timing was right, Janielle leaned close to his ear. "Now go write a suicide note, saying you feel guilty toward this family and can only atone with death. Slit your wrist after writing it."

Malcolm walked to the desk after hearing her instructions. He took out paper and pen and began to write. Seeing this, Janielle took the phone from his pocket and sent a message to Tracy.

After completing these tasks, she glanced at her child's empty room. It was clear that Janielle had planned ahead, ensuring that her child wouldn't be present during Malcolm's suicide.

She had naturally handed the child over to her mother-in-law, just like she did every day at this time.

Her mother-in-law was very displeased and made a call to rush her. "Come pick up this girl already. I have plans with friends tonight. You don't even have a job, yet you always dump her on me. If you were capable, you'd give the Dwain family a grandson.

"You're good for nothing. My son might as well find someone else outside."

The last two sentences were muttered softly by her mother-in-law.

Janielle had heard them many times and was used to them, but this time, her lowered eyes were filled with hatred.

She looked at Malcolm, who was now under her control, and spoke in her usual compliant tone. "I'll pick her up at 9:30 pm."

Her mother-in-law scoffed. "Have some self-control. You're always going out with those two friends of yours. Do you need me to remind you that neither of their families is worse off than yours?"

After saying that, she hung up the phone.

Janielle glanced at the clock. Her alibi had to be solid, hence the meeting with her friends. Only this time, she had chosen the location.

"Since you enjoy fooling around outside so much, you can all go to hell together," she muttered.

Janielle picked up her bag, not looking back at Malcolm, who had already lost his senses. After all, he would slit his own wrist at the appointed time. And she was going to personally deal with the one she despised the most.

Janielle glanced at her phone, a deep smile on her lips. She carried the same bag she usually used for groceries, looking like any ordinary housewife off to a meeting.

…

Meanwhile, Tracy was lying in bed when her phone buzzed with a message from Malcolm. The message wrote, "Tracy, I feel sorry for my family. Let's not meet again."

Tracy was stunned by the message and immediately tried calling him, but there was no answer. Just as she was about to get dressed and go find him, the doorbell rang.

"Your delivery is here!" A voice came from the door.

Tracy approached the door but didn't open it. She looked through the peephole and saw that the person was indeed wearing a delivery uniform.

She said through the door, "I didn't order anything. Are you sure you have the right place?"

The person checked the order. "The address is correct. The recipient is Mr. Dwain, and his phone number ends with 8765."

Hearing this, Tracy realized that it was Malcolm's phone number. Her heart tightened upon seeing the message earlier, thinking Malcolm really wanted to break up with her.

With that thought in mind, she slowly opened the door and reached out to take the delivery.

But the person quickly pushed the door open, slipped inside, and closed the door behind her. Then, she revealed a cruel smile. "You've finally opened the door, Tracy."

It was Janielle.

Hearing this, Tracy immediately turned to run. Although she didn't know why Janielle was there, she could tell that she was the target.

She hadn't run far when her hair was grabbed by Janielle. As she tried to resist, Janielle threw her to the ground, dusted off her hands, and removed her mask to reveal her face.

…

Wynter and Dalton had arrived at a residential building in Iwarim. According to the information they had obtained, only one teacher from Monway University lived here, and all the clues pointed to a man named Malcolm.

Wynter found the place based on the house number. Although some scumbags deserved to die, she knew she had to save him—she couldn't allow Janielle to take a life.

Soon, she arrived at unit 1205. Wynter knocked on the door, but there was no response from inside even after waiting for a while. She frowned, took a step back, and then kicked the door open with a single strike.

As soon as the door opened, she saw a man sitting in the living room—it was Malcolm, clutching a small knife, already preparing to slit his wrist.

At this critical moment, Wynter swiftly threw a silver needle, accurately hitting a pressure point on Malcolm's body, stopping his action.

Wynter walked over, took the knife, and asked, "Malcolm? Where's your wife?"

Malcolm showed no reaction, sitting there like a puppet.

Seeing this, Wynter waved her hand in front of his eyes, but there was still no response. She couldn't understand why he seemed like a lifeless doll after he had just been about to slit his wrist.

Wynter took out another silver needle and pricked his skin. When she pulled it out, the color hadn't changed—no signs of poisoning. This was strange.

She then inserted the needle into a pain point. Malcolm, however, still showed no reaction.

This was the first time Wynter encountered such a situation. Nevertheless, she recalled a recently popular drug called the Willbinder Potion. It was colorless, odorless, and left no trace afterward. It was even capable of making someone commit suicide without realizing it.

With that in mind, she glanced at the water cup on the side, her brows furrowing slightly as she dialed a number on her phone. "Come up. Collect and document all items for evidence."

The investigators were waiting downstairs.

Wynter's voice was calm. "The suspect not only wants revenge on the scumbag but is also planning to kill the mistress."

Dalton showed no emotion upon hearing this. To him, Malcolm had brought this upon himself. The investigators downstairs, however, looked extremely grim.

Wynter didn't waste time and immediately took Malcolm's phone—it was the fastest way to locate the suspect's next destination.

Additionally, she pressed her earpiece and said, "Keep the countdown going. Make sure the website stays active. Upload the topic of Malcolm's suicide in half an hour to make it more convincing."

An official announcement would make it the most believable. Only then would the scammers on the other end buy it.

Wynter used Malcolm's fingerprint to unlock the phone, and the first thing that appeared was his chat history with Tracy.

Tracy?

She turned to Dalton. "Why does Tracy sound so familiar?"

Dalton shrugged. "We ran into her when we were on campus. Didn't you ask me to use my charm on her? That girl we met was Tracy."

Wynter waved her hand dismissively. "You remember it quite clearly."

Dalton smiled with a hint of mockery. "People who are rotten to the core do tend to catch my attention."

Not sure if she understood his insinuation, Wynter looked at him. "Did you already think Tracy was suspicious back then?"

Wynter couldn't help but admit that Dalton's intuition was too sharp.

Dalton neither confirmed nor denied it. "I learned a bit of fortune reading from Mr. Stavius."

Tracy was trembling in fear in the apartment. "Ms. Kamden! Why are you doing this to me? And how did you know I was here?"

Janielle looked at her. "Tracy, don't you know why? As for how I knew you were here, you should ask yourself that. How dare you, as the mistress, ask me why?"

Tracy was stunned when she heard the word "mistress". After all, no one but Stacey, who was dead, knew about their affair.

Then, she figured that maybe Janielle was bluffing. "Ms. Kamden, what are you talking about? What mistress?"

Seeing this, Janielle shook her head with a smile. "Are you still acting at this point? I've known about you and Malcolm for a long time. The reason I waited until now to confront you is because it's finally the right time.

"As for how I knew? I went through Malcolm's phone. I read every single word of your chat history."

Tracy panicked even more. She clung to Janielle's leg as she pleaded, "Ms. Kamden, it wasn't my fault! Malcolm was the one who pursued me and said he'd take care of me. I agreed because my family is struggling financially. Please, spare me! I promise I'll never do it again!"

Janielle was about to speak when she noticed a prenatal report nearby. She picked it up and glanced at it—pregnant, with a boy.

Her gaze at Tracy was emotionless. "Are you pregnant? It looks like there's another offering today. Good things come in pairs."

Tracy didn't understand her words. "Ms. Kamden, what are you talking about?"

Janielle turned around and picked up a glass of water. "Nothing. Since you and Malcolm love each other so much, go keep him company. Take your child with you."

Tracy was horrified. "What? Is Malcolm dead?"

Janielle had just poured some drops of the Willbinder Potion into the water. She then turned back with a smile. "No need to rush. You'll be joining him soon. After all, you two scumbags are just wasting air by being alive."

She handed the glass over to Tracy. "Drink it."

Tracy shook her head frantically. "I won't drink it! Ms. Kamden, I was wrong! I really won't do it again!"

Janielle grabbed her hair, causing Tracy to scream in pain. She couldn't break free no matter how much she struggled.

Janielle brought the glass to her lips, but Tracy immediately kept her mouth shut. Seeing this, Janielle stomped on her calf, forcing her to cry out in pain.

Just as Janielle was about to pour the water into Tracy's mouth, there was another knock at the door.

The knocking made Janielle stop. She couldn't expose herself now, after all. She quickly found a towel, stuffed it into Tracy's mouth, tied her up, and hid her in the closet. Then, she went to answer the door with a casual demeanor.

The visitors were members of the Special Unit. They had traced Tracy's phone location to this place and disguised themselves as maintenance workers.

Seeing their uniforms through the peephole, Janielle opened the door. "What is it?"

The group's leader spoke first. "We're here to check the gas lines to prevent leaks."

Janielle waved her hand. "There's no need for that. I hardly ever cook here."

As she was about to close the door, the leader blocked it with his hand, and another member immediately pinned Janielle to the ground.

Janielle couldn't understand why this was happening. No one could have known she was here!

However, she wasn't stupid and knew she had been exposed. Struggling, she tried to send a message to Royston.

Just then, a hand gently pressed her wrist, and a soft voice said, "Do you really want to ruin yourself for this pair of scumbags?"

It was Wynter. Her fingertips were still stained with blood, and her eyes were lowered. Though her face looked fierce, her presence also brought a comforting gentleness.