The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1893

"Who else could possibly be laid to rest in the Maynerd family's tomb? It would disrupt the energy within the tomb and bring misfortune to the living." The three cultivators exchanged glances and performed a swift divination. Though skilled, their approach felt too formulaic.

Wynter, who had never followed the conventional teachings, saw only one possibility. "That cultivator intends to use these evil spirits to steal the Maynerd family's fortune and blessings."

Such trickery was no stranger to her. After all, the Quinnell family had been robbed of their fortune by the same means for the past ten years.

Turning to Driscoll, Wynter asked, "If you don't mind me asking, Mr. Maynerd, at what point did your family members begin meeting their demise?"

Driscoll remained silent, clenching his fists as his eyes burned with anger toward the evil spirits writhing on the ground.

Instead, Celestine spoke up. "It started 27 years ago. In fact, Driscoll isn't the only son in the family. My brother-in-law, Roscoe Maynerd, was on a cruise trip. It was supposed to be safe, but he died unexpectedly.

"Upon learning about his demise, my mother-in-law, Olivette Lyndon, passed away from grief less than a month later.

"It all came crashing down so quickly that we barely had time to react. Even my father-in-law, Rafferty Maynerd, who was usually strong, was diagnosed with early-stage esophageal cancer. The doctor said it was still manageable, but still, in less than six months, the Maynerds held three funerals."

As Celestine shared the story, the others grew more doubtful. In particular, the underworld guards knew the truth all too well. It was clear that the mastermind wasn't only after the Maynerd family fortune but also sought to wipe out their legacy entirely.

Logically, the underworld guards could see the souls of the dead, except those who died far from home and had never returned to their roots.

The possibility crossed Wynter's mind, and she turned to Celestine. "Where's Mr. Roscoe buried?"

Before Celestine could reply, Driscoll answered, "He's buried in a new grave, not far from my father's."

"Are you sure that's Mr. Roscoe? Has anyone ever examined the body?" Wynter slowly questioned.

Driscoll was taken aback. "What do you mean by that?"

"I suspect someone has swapped out Mr. Roscoe's corpse. Back then, the identification methods were primitive and often overlooked. Considering Mr. Roscoe died at sea, it's strange that his body was even recovered.

"His death was accidental, not a case of murder. So, why has no one questioned this unusualness?" Wynter wondered aloud, though her frank words hit Driscoll hard.

Such tragedies might have been easier to accept if they involved ordinary people. But with the Maynerds, the implications were far heavier.

The day of the tragedy was still vivid in Driscoll's mind. "I rushed to the scene the moment I got the news. The passengers all claimed that they had no idea Roscoe had died that night. When we checked the surveillance footage, Roscoe appeared clearly drunk and had tumbled into the sea on his own.

"The police also questioned his assistant and bodyguard, taking their statements. For some reason, Roscoe had insisted no one follow him that night—it was as if he was a different person. When they finally recovered his body, he was completely unrecognizable.

"His body was bloated, swollen from hours adrift in the sea. His face and hands were eaten away by fish. If his assistant hadn't gone searching for him, no one would've ever known he'd disappeared."

Hearing that, Wynter interjected, "If he really fell overboard, his body wouldn't have stayed in one place. The cruise had been sailing for hours. So, where exactly was the body found? And with surveillance cameras onboard, how did the security guards miss him falling?"

Driscoll had questioned the same thing back then. However, reports claimed that the security guards had been distracted, and the crew had been too caught up in their drinking party to notice anything.

Havenia had always been more open and developed than Cascadia. Even 30 years ago, entertainment was vibrant. So, it was no surprise for the gambling table to open once the cruise hit international waters. But while the revelry was expected, no one anticipated a death.

Back then, the Maynerd family was in a complicated situation. The investigator had tried comforting Driscoll, saying it was almost a stroke of luck they found Roscoe's body. After all, it was far more likely a shark would've dragged it away in those deep waters.

The reason Roscoe's body remained discoverable was that his torso had been snagged on the anchor as he struggled to survive. In other words, he had been drifting along with the cruise for half the night.

As Wynter listened to the story, her eyes darkened. Unlike the three cultivators, her attention was fixed on a different detail. "Mr. Maynerd, you mentioned your brother's face was disfigured when he was pulled from the water, correct?"

Driscoll nodded, but then a realization dawned on him. His eyes reddened as he turned to Wynter.

"No need for further examination. Mr. Roscoe's body was definitely swapped. It's too much of a coincidence—unless it was all intentional. The disfigured face and swollen body were a deliberate facade to hide the person's true identity.

"After that, they only have to align the official statements with an insider's help. The Maynerds wouldn't have noticed anything strange during their grief. And even if they did, there was other evidence to silence their doubts. So, don't blame yourself, Mr. Maynerd," Wynter calmly explained.

She then turned to the evil spirits at her feet and scoffed. "Also, I've noticed one of you looks a bit off. Now I know the reason. A disfigured face is truly hideous, even for a spirit."

She grabbed one of the spirits, Billie Swanson, by his neck and continued, "There's a saying in Cascadia—you have no more than two tries. I've given you two chances, but you've only told half the truth. If I don't pry, you'll never say the rest.

"Say, if I crush your soul, will the Maynerd family fortune be restored?"

Billie writhed in her grasp, trying to beg for mercy. But Wynter no longer gave him the chance. Without hesitation, she crushed his soul completely.

Seeing that, the other spirit, Bret Gibbs, dropped to his knees with a pale face. He pleaded, "I-I just want to go home. Really! That's why I listened to that Cascadian cultivator. Unlike Billie, I have no interest in the Maynerd family fortune. You know that lost souls like me only wish to return home!"

"Then tell me, where exactly is Jules' soul? And I know both of you aren't the only spirits involved in this scheme. There's another one, isn't there? The most important spirit. Where is he?" Wynter demanded coldly.

The mention of the third evil spirit stunned everyone. The air grew tense as everyone exchanged uneasy glances. In particular, the three cultivators looked especially horrified.

What kind of evil spirit had they missed? And where was he?

…

Meanwhile, the chauffeur had driven Wolf and Antoine back to the basement, just beside the Chamberlain residence.

When Lorcan caught sight of them, a smug smile tugged on his lips. "Are you scared now, Mr. Chamberlain? I've told you to release me, but you refused. And now, you're losing your company."

Antoine silently questioned Lorcan's confidence, though the latter didn't seem to be aware of his predicament.

"Last chance—let me go, and I might talk to Freddie about saving you some money," Lorcan demanded.

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