The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1919

If it had been a call from the mainland, it wouldn't have shown up as unknown. After a brief pause, Wynter answered without speaking.

The voice on the other end, hearing the line connect, asked cautiously, "Mrs. Yarwood?"

Mrs. Yarwood? She'd only heard that title a couple of days prior, from Delmar himself.

Wynter's tone relaxed slightly. "Mr. Delmar?"

Delmar chuckled warmly. "Hearing you call my name is music to these old ears."

"No need for formalities. If Dalton treats you with respect, then so do I."

"Your acknowledgment means everything," Delmar replied, voice deepening with sincerity. "I will only ever recognize one Mrs. Yarwood."

"You flatter me," Wynter said with a chuckle. "But what brings your call today?"

Delmar's tone grew solemn. "There's a matter that requires your help. I reached out to Mr. Yarwood first, but he redirected me to you. Apologies for the intrusion."

Wynter's brow arched. "Oh? There's little in Havenia that challenges you. What's the trouble?"

A sigh crackled through the line. "It's not my problem, strictly speaking. It's an old debt. I have a friend from Havenia, and I happen to be in debt to him. You should understand that I can't just forget about someone who has helped me before. But his problem… exceeds my expertise."

Wynter furrowed her brows slightly. "That's alright. You don't have to beat around the bush. What is it?"

Delmar hesitated. "Where are you now? I'll have him meet you. Some things are clearer face-to-face."

Wynter nodded before replying, "I'm at Pan and Steam."

"Alright. He'll meet you there shortly. Thank you, Mrs. Yarwood."

A soft hum sealed the call before Wynter ended it.

Wynter tapped her fingers lightly on the table as she recalled Dalton mentioning that Delmar had extensive connections in Havenia, with influence in both the legal and underground circles. What could possibly be an issue he couldn't handle?

Then, the voice beside her snapped her back to reality.

"Miss, your custard tart, clam soup, and club sandwich are here," the owner said as he approached, setting the plate down on the table before adding, "These three are best eaten hot. The texture won't be as good once they cool."

Wynter nodded. "Got it. Thank you."

The owner continued, "There are three more dishes—our specialties—that'll take a bit longer."

"No problem. Take your time. Good food is worth the wait," she replied before turning to Jules. "Jules, the food you wanted is here. Try it, but be careful, it's hot."

"Mm hmm!" Jules picked up a club sandwich with her hands and took a bite, her eyes widening in amazement. "This club sandwich is so good! You and Wolf should have some, too!" She then placed a club sandwich on each of Wynter's and Wolf's plates.

Her sweetness was utterly endearing. The owner watched Jules' actions and nodded approvingly. "This girl is something else. She knows how to share despite her young age. Whoever marries her in the future will be one lucky man."

Then, he turned to Wynter. "Your two kids are really well-behaved. They'll definitely go far in life. By the way, why didn't your husband come with you?"

Wynter, who had just picked up her club sandwich, froze mid-motion at the question. "Huh? Me? No..."

She collected herself before replying, "These two aren't my kids. One's my friend's daughter, and the other's my brother. As for the husband—I have a fiancé, but we're not officially married yet."

Glancing down at Wolf and Jules, then at herself, she briefly wondered if her outfit today made her look older, but she quickly dismissed the thought. It couldn't be her problem. Next time, maybe she shouldn't bring kids along when going out.

The owner was slightly surprised. "Oh, my mistake. It's just that in Havenia, the legal marriage age is different from the mainland. Here, you can marry as young as 16."

Wynter raised her brows slightly. "No worries. I get it."

At that moment, a voice called from the kitchen, and the owner hurried over. Moments later, he returned, carrying a lidded pot, which he placed on Wynter's table.

"This is our signature dish—beef stew! The beef tendon has been simmered for a full eight hours, and the radishes have soaked up all the broth. The taste is absolutely beautiful!"

With that, he lifted the lid. As soon as it was removed, an aromatic steam rushed out, carrying the rich scent of tender beef, perfectly marbled and resting in a milky-white broth. The radishes had absorbed the beef's savory essence, while the beef itself carried the radishes' delicate sweetness.

He then placed a piece of beef tendon in Wynter's bowl. "Try this! It's packed with collagen, chewy and bouncy. It's guaranteed to leave an unforgettable impression with just one bite!"

After hearing his introduction, Wynter picked up the beef tendon and took a bite. Instantly, a flicker of astonishment crossed her eyes.

Though she didn't have time to cook herself, Wynter had studied food enough to appreciate quality. The beef tendon was tender yet retained a satisfying texture. She felt as if her taste buds were on cloud nine.

She didn't hold back her praise. "This beef stew is incredible. I've tried them on the mainland, but yours is hands down the best I've ever tasted. It's truly impressive."

The owner grinned proudly. "Naturally! Wait, there are two more dishes—they're ready. I'll bring them right over!"

With that, he headed back to the kitchen and returned with shrimp-stuffed pasta and a chicken broth bowl.

When the shrimp-stuffed pasta arrived, the dough was so thin it was almost translucent, encasing plump, springy shrimp. In the other bowl, the broth was clear yet irresistibly fragrant.

Standing beside the table, the owner helped Wynter season her dish with homemade sauce from a small container, chatting with Wynter as he worked.

"The broth for this chicken broth bowl has been simmered all night with chicken, ham, and dried flounder. No chicken soup can compare to this!"

Wynter took a sip of the broth with her spoon. Just as the owner had described, the flavor was exquisitely rich. She gave him a thumbs-up.

After dabbing her lips with a napkin, Wynter asked, "Your food is amazing. Why aren't there more customers during peak hours?"

The owner sighed. "Business isn't what it used to be. A lot of restaurants nowadays hire influencers for exposure, or celebrities open their own eateries, drawing crowds just for their fame.

"Over time, small places like mine struggle. I don't know how to play those games. I believe in running a restaurant with integrity. The food I serve has to be the best—no compromises. Some of my old regulars have moved away or left Havenia. They still message me sometimes, saying they miss my cooking."

Wynter nodded. The food industry was indeed like that, though, truthfully, it wasn't much different from other businesses.

Realizing he'd been chatting too long, the owner chuckled. "Ah, I've been rambling. Enjoy your meal. I'll get back to work." With that, he returned to the entrance to greet passersby.

Wynter glanced at Wolf beside her. "You've barely eaten anything. That's unlike you."

Wolf murmured, "Boss, I've been thinking that I will no longer overeat starting today. I should eat less."

Wynter raised an eyebrow. "What? Are you suddenly worried about your weight? You're still growing. Eat up."

Jules chimed in, "Ms. Wynter is right, Wolf. You need to eat more while you're growing!"

Caught between their insistence, Wolf reluctantly picked up his fork again.

Wynter had planned to enjoy the meal, but after that phone call earlier, her mind had been preoccupied, leaving her without much appetite.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify