The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1851

After cleaning up the shattered sacred statue, the old man sensed that the soul that had possessed Virgil had now perished.

His eyes darkened with contemplation. Virgil's possession had been his doing. Back then, he had instructed Kiaran to deliver a glass of water to Virgil. Once Virgil lost consciousness, the old man used a secret technique to facilitate the soul's possession of his body.

Now, sensing the soul's dissipation, the old man was certain that during interrogation, Virgil must have spoken of him, triggering the soul-burning curse he had secretly placed—a contingency that had now served its purpose.

Just then, Kiaran entered the office and noticed the sacred statue's fragments in the old man's hands. Though unaware of what had transpired, he knew this statue was the old man's most treasured possession. For it to shatter now...

Suppressing his emotions, the old man turned to Kiaran. "Kiaran, cancel the upcoming meeting. Take me back to the courtyard now."

Kiaran nodded. "Understood, sir. I'll make the arrangements and bring the car around. Please wait for me at the entrance."

With that, he left. The old man gathered his things and exited the office. The Sacrificial Human Formation's destruction had been unexpected. He needed to hasten his Life Force Absorption ritual.

Soon, Kiaran pulled up to the courtyard gates. As the old man stepped out, Kiaran prepared to leave as usual, but the old man called out to him. "Kiaran, come inside for a moment."

The memory of witnessing the old man inhaling dark energy during his last visit was still fresh. Hence, though hesitant, Kiaran showed no outward reluctance. "Of course, sir."

They entered the courtyard. The old man took a seat on a stone bench while Kiaran headed inside to prepare tea.

Suddenly, a figure cloaked in black appeared beside the old man. "Sir, I've scoured all of Colifernia, but I could only find nine of the ten individuals you requested. The last one remains missing."

The old man frowned. "One short... the formation cannot be completed without all ten."

Then, recalling the birthdate on Kiaran's resume, his expression eased. The rare constitution... "It seems fate has delivered the final piece right to me. The missing one is right by my side."

His gaze shifted toward Kiaran, who was inside brewing tea. A chill ran down Kiaran's spine, prompting him to glance outside, only to see the old man smiling at him.

Mistaking it for approval, Kiaran relaxed, unaware of the danger lurking behind that smile.

Once the tea was ready, Kiaran brought it out. "Sir, your tea."

The old man accepted the cup, inhaling the aroma. "Your brewing skills are commendable, Kiaran."

"Thank you, sir."

After taking a sip, the old man studied him. "Kiaran, there's something I must ask of you."

Kiaran stood immediately. "Sir, whatever you need, I'll do my best to fulfill it."

The old man waved dismissively. "Sit. This isn't the office, so there's no need for formalities."

Kiaran slowly sat back down, and the old man continued, "I recall your resume mentioned your birthdate aligns with a rare constitution."

Kiaran nodded. "Yes, sir. My parents considered it inauspicious and said my life force was too weak. They even sought a protective charm for me."

The old man smiled in satisfaction. "Then this task falls to you alone."

Kiaran hesitated. "What task, sir?"

The old man's grin turned sinister. "The sacrifice of your life."

Kiaran shot to his feet. "Sir, you—you must be joking!"

The old man rose as well. "Do I seem like I'm joking, Kiaran? Don't worry, you won't feel a thing."

Panicked, Kiaran bolted for the gate. The old man didn't move, but the black-cloaked figure materialized, blocking Kiaran's escape.

The old man's voice echoed behind him. "Kiaran, isn't it time you repay your employer's kindness? Why are you running away now?"

…

Meanwhile, Dalton remained unconscious in bed. When the family doctor came for his routine check-up, his frown deepened the more he examined.

Keane noticed the shift in his demeanor. "What's wrong?"

The doctor's voice was tense. "Mr. Yarwood's condition has deteriorated. All his vitals are dropping."

Suddenly, the electrocardiogram displayed by the heart monitor beside them began to weaken. This sight sent a chill down Keane's spine. Even without medical knowledge, he knew that Dalton would die if his heart stopped.

The doctor snapped into action. "Call an ambulance now! His condition is critical!"

Keane immediately dialed emergency services. The ambulance arrived swiftly, and he accompanied the medical team to the hospital, his mind racing.

This didn't make sense. Dalton's vitals had been stable during his coma. Yet, the moment Wynter returned, his body had begun to fail.

...

Theo was in the middle of a business negotiation when Keane's frantic call came through.

Hearing that Dalton's heartbeat was fading and that he was being rushed to Summit Hospital, Theo abandoned the business meeting and hurried to the hospital. By the time he arrived, Dalton had already been wheeled into the emergency room.

Theo turned to Keane, his voice strained. "What happened? How did it escalate so quickly?"

Still shaken, Keane shook his head. "The family doctor noticed his vitals dropping during the check-up. Then his heart rate plummeted—"

Before he could finish, a nurse stepped out of the ER. "Who's the family of the patient?"

Theo stepped forward. "I'm his grandfather. How is he?"

The nurse's expression was grave. "You'll need to sign this informed consent for high-risk procedure. His situation is extremely unstable."

Theo staggered, nearly collapsing. Keane caught him just in time.

"A high-risk procedure?" Theo's voice trembled.

The nurse nodded. "Without it, we can't proceed with full intervention."

Theo knew the implications. Signing meant accepting the worst, but refusing meant no chance at all.

With a shaking hand, he signed.

As the nurse disappeared back into the ER, Keane guided Theo to a seat.

Theo's voice was hollow. "Find Wynter. Bring her here to see Dalton."

Keane didn't hesitate. "I'll get her immediately!"

...

Meanwhile, Wynter had just finished restructuring the Chamber of Commerce's operations with ruthless efficiency.

Just then, a car pulled up beside her. The window rolled down to reveal Keane.

Keane spoke urgently, "Ms. Quinnell, Mr. Yarwood fell into a coma some time ago and still hasn't woken up. He's been rushed to the hospital."

The moment Wynter heard that Dalton was unconscious, her steps faltered. Her hand, raised to investigate, froze mid-air. She turned sharply to look at Keane. "What did you just say?"

Before he could finish, Wynter was already moving, her strides long and purposeful. Her usually composed voice carried an edge. "Where is he?"

"Summit Hospital. He's in the emergency room."

Keane tried to keep up, but Wynter was already ahead. She didn't wait for a driver before taking the wheel herself.

Her driving skills were impeccable, but today, she broke every speed limit. Keane sat rigid in the passenger seat, his face pale.

Wynter's expression was razor-focused, her stunning features marred by an uncharacteristic agitation.

She knew she was slipping. At a red light, she wrapped a lucky token around her finger, tightening it until blood welled. The pain grounded her.

When she was inside the formation, she hadn't expected the first news she heard about him once she got out would be that his life was hanging by a thread.

Inside the formation, she had lost too much—Ailithir, her seniors, and the entire Mt. Nyxvarn.

She had thought Dalton would be waiting for her outside. That was why, even knowing he didn't want her to go, she had used his weakness to deceive him.

Wynter was always efficient and pragmatic. But right now, her hands trembled on the wheel.

Dalton, from the moment she first met him, had been sickly yet unfailingly refined. He was someone who should have lived effortlessly, yet since meeting her, he had done nothing but clean up her messes.

She thought of the resentment energy coiled around him and the countless Fankrit seals etched into his spiritual form. A suspicion flickered in her mind—and with it came a sharp, unfamiliar pang in her chest.

Logically, someone of his status shouldn't just collapse into a coma. What had happened? Was it tied to her breaking the formation?

Questions swirled. She couldn't quite explain what she was feeling, only that a deep unease had settled in her chest. For the first time, she didn't know what to do.

By the time she reached the hospital, her hands were still trembling slightly, but her expression had schooled back into icy calm when she lifted her head.

Outside the ER, a crowd of suits huddled near the stairwell, murmuring.

"If Mr. Yarwood stays comatose, the company's stocks will plummet."

"Mr. Yarwood's health was always frail. Mr. Yarwood Senior handed over the company to him too soon."

"Should we bring it up with the board?"

Wynter stepped out of the elevator just in time to hear them. The lucky token coiled in her grip as her gaze swept over them—one by one.

Dalton was still fighting for his life inside, and these vultures were already plotting their exits.

Wynter had always been calm and wouldn't act unless provoked. But today, patience was a luxury she didn't have.

In one fluid motion, she seized the nearest executive by his collar and slammed him against the wall.

Her smile was glacial. "Mr. Code, was it? What exactly did you want to propose to Mr. Yarwood Senior? Tell me. Let's see if your plans are even possible."