The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1927

Just as Wynter finished speaking, she thrust the wooden stick forward.

Instantly, Callan was knocked back dozens of feet and crashed to the ground. In the blink of an eye, Wynter stepped forward and appeared beside him.

Callan didn't even have time to struggle when she struck again, this time grabbing him by the throat. No one else dared to move.

"Let him go! If the head of Mt. Darkwood finds out, he'll hunt you down to the ends of the earth!"

"He's the sect elder most cherished by our leader! If you harm him, our leader will never let you go!"

It was only then that Callan realized how terrifying Wynter truly was. With a broken, raspy voice, he asked, "Who… are you?"

"Take a guess," Wynter said coolly, gripping his neck. Her voice was crisp and sharp. "Mt. Darkwood is truly underwhelming."

Callan struggled, trying to escape.

Wynter spoke slowly, her gaze distant. "I had no interest in Mt. Darkwood before, but what you've done is revolting. You didn't just kill them—you bound their souls and turned them into a Wailing Procession of 100 Spirits.

"Is this what you call the work of cultivators? You're no better than beasts. How will those wronged souls ever find peace if you don't die today?"

Callan completely panicked after hearing Wynter's words. Bloodshot veins spread across his eyes, and he struggled to breathe.

"Spare me! I'm begging you, please show mercy! That was a trump card the head gave me! It had nothing to do with me! I've only carried out a few jobs so far!"

His face turned crimson, and his limbs grew weak. "W-Wait, I can tell you a secret that almost no one knows about!"

Wynter eased her grip slightly. "What secret?"

Callan took a deep breath. "Promise you'll spare my life, and I swear I'll tell you!"

Wynter scoffed. "You're in no position to bargain. Three, two—"

"I'll talk! I'll talk!" Callan was trembling with fear. "There's a Celestial Force site in Havenia, and a sacred item is hidden inside. The head ordered me to find it in secret. He told me that if I did this right, I'd be set for several lifetimes."

Wynter's eyes darkened. A sacred item… Only certain people would pay such a price as a reward.

She looked at him. "Is it foreign forces?"

Callan's eyes widened in surprise. "How did you know? Wait, did they approach you, too? Then we're on the same side, aren't we?"

But Wynter's voice was cold. "Tell me—are you Cascadian?"

Callan froze upon hearing the question.

At that moment, Wynter raised the wooden stick and struck him. Instantly, he collapsed to the ground.

"Disgusting. Someone who treats lives like nothing doesn't deserve mercy," she muttered softly. "Even foreign forces have their eyes on Havenia…"

After finishing her job, she turned to Wolf. "Get in the car."

Just before getting in, she glanced at the remaining few. "Carry him back. Tell your head this—evil always gets its due."

With that, she pricked the unconscious driver with a silver needle to wake him up. The driver barely had time to process what was happening before Wynter ordered him to drive them away.

...

The next day, at the Dominion Grand Hotel in Havenia, Wynter stood in front of the mirror, eyeing the new outfit she had just changed into. Something still felt off.

She turned to Dalton. "How does this look?"

Dalton glanced over and studied her closely. "It doesn't suit your presence."

"Exactly. That's the point."

Dalton looked puzzled at Wynter's response. "Why the sudden wardrobe change?"

A slight smirk tugged at her lips. "We've got something to do. Also, I'm not the only one changing. You're changing, too."

As she said that, she tossed a set of casual clothes over to him.

Dalton lifted his eyelids lazily. "What's this about?"

Wynter walked over. "We're going for a job interview today!"

"What?" Dalton's hand froze mid-air. "A job interview? Did the Yarwood family go bankrupt, or was it the Quinnell family?"

She shook her head. "Neither. We're investigating a company today, and you're coming with me."

Dalton chuckled under his breath. "Interesting…"

The heads of the Yarwood and Quinnell families, going for a job interview—if anyone heard of it, they'd think it was a joke.

Wynter glanced at the clock. "We need to hurry, so change into those clothes. Oh, and go through the résumé I prepared," she said, handing him the document.

Dalton skimmed it, then turned his head with a raised brow. "Me? Your cousin?"

Wynter cleared her throat twice. "Yes. The résumé is fake, so don't take it seriously. Now, hurry up and change, or we'll be late."

Dalton nodded with a chuckle and took the clothes into the room. Wynter sat down as he left.

Today, they were going to apply for a position at the company Phineas had mentioned. Usually, after the interview, they'd need to wait for a notice. Most likely, nothing would happen for the next couple of days unless they passed.

Suddenly, she heard the faint rustle of fabric. She instinctively looked up and saw Dalton walking out of the room.

A light gray hoodie hung loosely over his shoulders, and the slim-fit jeans hugged his long legs. His usual formal leather shoes were replaced with a pair of canvas sneakers. He looked relaxed and effortlessly casual.

It was a simple and ordinary outfit, but on him, it had a striking visual impact.

The hem of the hoodie draped naturally, just enough to cover his narrow waist. As he reached up to adjust the hood, his sleeve slid back slightly, revealing his forearm's clean lines—sharply defined, like carved marble. His jeans' cuffs were rolled up just enough to reveal a sliver of pale ankle.

"Why are you staring?" Dalton stepped closer and waved a hand in front of her face. The collar of his hoodie dipped slightly, revealing the faint outline of his collarbone.

Wynter stared at him intently. "This outfit is something I grabbed at random. It suits you better than I expected."

She had meant to tone down his presence with this outfit. But ironically, after he changed, it felt surprisingly fitting. From the neck down, he looked like any fresh grad stepping into society for the first time.

He was truly stunning. He didn't need a suit to be eye-catching. After all, his natural sensuality came through even in the most basic clothes.

Dalton gave a soft chuckle. "Outfits look different depending on the wearer."

"I know you're not like the rest," Wynter said as she stood. "But we still need to get to the interview. Grab the résumé—let's go."

She had originally thought of bringing Wolf along, too, but reconsidered. Going to a job interview with an entourage would only draw attention. It was best to let him sleep in a bit longer.

The two of them left the room, one after the other, and stepped into the elevator as it began its smooth descent.

Phineas was already waiting downstairs. When he saw Wynter, he called out, "Ms. Wynter, we need to hurry, or we'll be late."

Wynter nodded and jogged over with Dalton.

Phineas had already flagged down a taxi. Wynter and Dalton got into the back seat while he took the passenger seat up front.

After giving the driver the address, the taxi started off toward Stellar Corporation.

Phineas glanced back at Wynter. "Ms. Wynter, who's this?"

Wynter smiled. "My cousin."

Wynter quickly loosened the man's suit jacket. "Everyone, stay calm."

As she spoke, she flipped her wrist, pulling out a cloth pouch containing silver needles. She checked his pulse again, focused and composed.

"Stop right there!" someone suddenly shouted. "You can't just stick needles into people like that!"

Wynter ignored him, her gaze still on the unconscious man as she continued assessing his pulse.

The man scoffed, clearly annoyed. "I'm talking to you. Do you have no manners at all? I could already tell from your accent that you're from the mainland. Did you have someone pretend to faint so you could show off your skills? Pathetic."

Wynter didn't respond, her attention fully on her patient as she sterilized a needle calmly.

"I'm talking to you!" he yelled, growing angrier. "Don't you understand that we're supposed to wait for the ambulance?"

Wynter knelt on one knee, her presence sharp and commanding. "You're noisy."

The man trembled with rage. "You! Are all mainlanders this uncivilized?"

At those words, Wynter shot him a glance, cold and piercing. Instantly, a chill swept over his entire body, as though he were standing in a snowstorm.

Others began to speak up.

"She seemed really professional when checking his pulse just now. It doesn't look like she is messing around."

"I agree. I once saw a traditional medicine doctor diagnose someone by checking their pulse, and it was fascinating."

Wynter said nothing as saving the patient came first. She pressed onto the man's finger and quickly sterilized the needle again, her movements smooth and practiced. The first needle flashed in the light.

The man on the ground immediately furrowed his brows, his expression twisting in discomfort. He seemed to stir, even in his unconscious state, his tightly knitted brow hinting at returning awareness.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

"He's waking up…"

Wynter raised her hand again, her gaze bright and calm. The second needle went in—it was a shallow prick to draw blood.

At that very moment, the man opened his eyes. His round, jet-black eyes were clear and bright, framed by long, curled lashes. He quietly stared at Wynter, calm and still.

Everyone around them widened their eyes in disbelief.

"What? He's fine after two needles?"

"Our doctors here in Havenia don't have skills like that. No matter what's wrong with you, the hospital will send you for scans first. Everything depends on machines."

The man slowly sat up, then stood and bowed deeply to Wynter. "Thank you. If not for you, I might not be alive right now."

Wynter reached out to steady him. "Medicine knows no borders. No matter where we are, a doctor will rush to help without hesitation when they see someone in need. It's not just me—doctors in the mainland are the same."

The man nodded firmly. "Thank you. May I ask for your name? If you ever need anything, I'll do everything I can."

"Wynter Quinnell," she replied as she put her silver needles away. "It was nothing, so don't dwell on it."

With that, she returned to Dalton's side.

As for the man who'd kept shouting earlier, he was now being pointed at and reprimanded by the surrounding crowd. When the ambulance finally arrived, the paramedics left after being told that he was alright.

Dalton turned slightly to look at Wynter. "You haven't changed at all."

Wynter glanced back. "A doctor's compassion can never change."

Adalyn, sitting in the front row, turned around and gave her a thumbs-up. "You're amazing. I used to think people from the mainland weren't anything special, but what you just did was incredible!"

Wynter smiled. "That's because the ideas you've been fed say so. You'll have to meet a real mainlander to see otherwise."