The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1904

After a brief exchange of pleasantries with Celestine, Antoine hung up the call. After all, there were still some loose ends to tie up.

Turning to Ingrid and Wolf, he stated, "We're going to a banquet tonight, but first, let's meet up with Wilfred."

Wolf blinked, his eyes wide with wonder. "A banquet? Is that a place where you eat? Will there be a lot of people?"

"It's a banquet, so of course there'll be plenty of people," Antoine answered with a smile.

Wolf scratched his nose nervously. "I don't like crowded places. The people seem so fake—they smile at you, but it's only skin-deep."

Antoine gave Wolf a comforting pat on the back and assured him, "Don't worry. Just stick close to me, and enjoy your food."

As Wolf sighed in resignation, the chauffeur arrived with the car. The group climbed in and headed to the Public Integrity Bureau. Soon, they arrived to find Wilfred waiting at the door.

Spotting Wilfred, Antoine stepped out of the car and approached him. "Thanks for your help, Wilfred."

Instead of following suit, Wolf and Ingrid remained in the car, leaving Antoine and Wilfred to their conversation.

"Do you think it's my first time meeting you? Even if I didn't order an investigation, you'd still get out. It's just a matter of time," Wilfred refuted nonchalantly.

However, Antoine looked at him with a sharp gaze. "It's not that easy this time. It takes someone with real authority to pull this off. Not only did he bribe my employees to frame me, but he also manipulated the Organized Crime Department and Internal Revenue Service into launching investigations against me."

When Wilfred heard the severity of the case, his smile tightened. "I understand. I've had my men secretly looking into him, but I doubt it'll be easy to find concrete proof. That's why you're here."

"I don't think I can help much," Antoine replied, sounding rather confused.

Wilfred shook his head and explained, "No, this is something only you can do. My men just brought in Ronald. I know you two are old friends, but he may have been helping Barnaby with his dirty work for a long time. Do you understand what I mean?"

With a stern gaze, Antoine spoke firmly. "Have you already brought Ronald here? Then, I'll see what I can do."

Wilfred gave a small nod in response. "He refuses to say a word, no matter what we ask. It's up to you to crack him. Come on, I'll take you to him."

With that, Wilfred turned to lead Antoine inside the building. They walked down the corridor before coming to a halt in front of a door.

"I'll leave the rest to you," Wilfred said as he opened the door. Antoine hummed in acknowledgement and stepped inside.

Ronald sat at the table with his eyes closed, but they snapped open at the sound of footsteps. When he saw Antoine, he nervously looked away.

Before Antoine could speak, Ronald beat him to it. "You're here."

"I came to see an old friend," Antoine replied.

Ronald heaved a bitter sigh. "Now's neither the right time nor place."

"A true friend wouldn't mind the time or place," Antoine refuted calmly. Then, he began to recall their shared past.

"You once told me the story behind your name. Your parents named you Ronald, hoping you'd grow into a fearless leader—one who fears nothing, not even authority or power. I remember you were just a civil servant, struggling to make ends meet.

"I was disheartened at the sight and offered to help, but you said something that stuck with me—you said kindness given out of pity isn't kindness at all. You insisted you'd rather rely on yourself. Those words made me believe I didn't back the wrong horse, and I always trusted that you would succeed.

"That time when you were investigating a corrupt politician, no one dared to stand up to them, even though you had gathered enough evidence. They feared the politician's revenge, but you were different.

"You didn't give up, and you weren't scared. Eventually, you handed the proof to Mr. Bristol, bringing that guy to justice. Mr. Bristol complimented your righteousness and offered you a transfer to the Public Integrity Department. You turned it down, saying you wanted to earn your way.

"And you did. You worked your way up until you became the Minister of Human Resources. Am I right?"

Antoine finished the story and gazed at Ronald.

"Those were all in the past, lost in the wind," Ronald said, hanging his head low.

Antoine retorted sharply, "The past, you say? That's the path you took! Have you forgotten your oath and the things you once stood for? You said money could be earned, but your will was unshakable. Tell me, Ronald, do you still remember this?"

"I do," Ronald replied as tears dripped down from his eyes.

Antoine took a step closer. "Then do you regret everything you've done?"

Wiping the tears off his face, Ronald answered firmly, "I don't regret it, but I understand one thing clearly—no matter what, I can't walk this path alone. I need to walk with the light."

"That faint glimmer in the dark? Is that what you mean by walking with the light?" Antoine questioned, taking Ronald's hand.

"Is that not it?" Ronald snapped back.

Antoine stared right into Ronald's eyes and stated firmly, "No. That's nothing but an illusion. The real light is this country's people, not some flicker in the darkness.

"What happened to you, Ronald? Your head's low, and your knees are weak. You're not the righteous man I once knew!"

Those words weighed heavily on Ronald, seemingly aging him in an instant. He looked away, unable to face his friend.

Seeing that, Antoine scoffed. "I wonder if your younger self would laugh if he saw you now."

Ronald slowly lifted his head and retorted, "You don't understand anything. After all these years, I've learned that politics is all about handling interpersonal relationships."

"And that's why you yielded," Antoine stated in a low voice.

When Ronald nodded in affirmation, Antoine grabbed his jaw and growled, "Did you change because of Barnaby? To be honest, Ronald, I never wanted to come see you. You're not worth it. And do you know why?"

Confusion flickered across Ronald's face, but Antoine spoke with cruel clarity. "Because you're not the man I knew. You're just a dog following orders. You can't go back."

Those harsh words tore straight through Ronald, breaking down the last line of defense in his heart. "You've never been in politics, so you never know how deep these waters run. I gave my all, but in the end, all it took was Curtis calling him 'Dad.'"

Antoine pressed on, "But you're different—you still have a choice. Curtis may have a powerful backing, but you have Havenia and its people standing with you. Win their trust, and you'll win everything."

At that moment, a blinding light pierced through the windows and shone onto Antoine.

Seeing that, Ronald grasped his fist with a newfound resolve. "You're right. It's the people's will that matters."

Antoine patted his shoulder. "It's still not too late. I believe you can return to who you once were, not who you've become. Think about it."

As Antoine turned to leave, Ronald suddenly called out to him. "I've thought it through. You're after proof of Barnaby's crime, right? I have them in a safe at my house—here's the password. I'm also willing to testify if needed."

There was a brief moment of silence before Tybalt sighed. "Permission granted. Keep this under the radar."

"Yes, sir."

The moment Wilfred hung up the phone, he received an incoming call from the Public Integrity Department.

"Mr. Harrods! We've detected multiple flight bookings made by Barnaby's secretary, but we don't have a confirmed departure," the caller reported.

Wilfred frowned at the news. "Try to pinpoint his location and get back to me."

"Understood, sir!"

As the call ended, Wilfred gathered the evidence and rallied his team together, preparing to head to the airport.

Little did he know that the flight bookings were merely a ruse—Barnaby had intended to fool Wilfred into thinking he was fleeing by plane.

In fact, Barnaby showed up at the harbor, wearing a baseball cap and mask to conceal his identity. He left his phone in the car and instructed the chauffeur to drive away. He believed he would be safe as long as he boarded the ship.

On the other hand, Wilfred had arrived at the airport. He questioned the flight attendants about Barnaby's flights, but none had recalled seeing him board.

Wilfred furrowed his brows. The tickets were booked, yet Barnaby never got on a plane.

Then, it hit him. He swiftly ordered two of his subordinates to keep watch at the airport, all the while redirecting the others to the harbor.

As the team sped off, he made a call to the technician back at the Public Integrity Department. "Have you tracked down Barnaby's location?" he asked.

The technician answered, "I did, but something's off. He's definitely on the move, but it looks like he's heading right back home."

Upon hearing the information, Wilfred hung up the phone and urged the driver. "Step on it. If he boards that ship, we'll lose him for good."

Complying with the command, the driver floored the accelerator. With only a few cars on the road, they could afford to run red lights and rush to the harbor as soon as possible, leaving the reports for later.

Time passed, and the ships nearly reached the harbor. Barnaby joined the line with the other passengers, waiting to board.

At that moment, Wilfred and his team had reached the harbor. When he spotted the crowd ahead, his eyes turned serious. Getting out of the car, he climbed onto the roof and scanned the area. Eventually, his gaze settled on a man wearing a baseball cap.

"There! Barnaby is in the crowd! Move it!" Wilfred ordered. Under his command, several officers moved swiftly toward Barnaby.

Sensing movement behind him, Barnaby spun around to see a group of officers closing in. Panicking, he shoved his hand into the bag, grabbed a fistful of cash, and flung it into the air.

"Look! Money's raining down! Grab it, quick!"

The other passengers, startled by the fluttering cash, scrambled to snatch the bills.

Amidst the chaos, Barnaby slipped away from the crowd, hoping to hide somewhere discreet. Little did he know that Wilfred already had him in his sights.

Once Barnaby slid into a shadowed corner, he heaved a sigh and murmured, "It's a good thing I'm a fast runner."

However, a voice suddenly called out from behind. "Trying to hide, Mr. Wildingham?"