The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1994

There was a glass jar on the altar, inside which a heart—already turning black—was suspended in liquid.

Seven white candles were placed around the heart. The wax that dripped from the melting candles formed a creepy pattern on the table's surface.

Wynter glanced back at Dalton and frowned. "Are you alright? This environment doesn't seem to agree with you."

Dalton narrowed his eyes slightly before raising an eyebrow at her. "I'm alright, actually. This heart seems to have been here for a while."

Wynter commented quietly, "It's already turning black on the outside. This looks like Orinda's handiwork, but I still don't know why she's offering up this heart."

She looked up at the black-and-white photograph hanging behind the table. It depicted a young lady wearing an old-fashioned dress. She looked beautiful, but her eyes were empty.

There was also a huge cross drawn in the middle of the photograph with a red marker.

Suddenly, Wynter noticed that someone was kneeling in front of the altar—Orinda herself, her back toward the entrance. She was wearing a plain-looking long robe, and her long hair was disheveled.

She was repeatedly smacking her head against the floor in a robotic fashion. Her forehead was already bleeding, staining the floor a dark red.

It turned out that the sound of knocking they'd heard upon entering was the sound of her smacking her head against the floor.

"You came, just as expected." Orinda's voice was abnormally calm and filled with a joy that made one's skin crawl. "From the moment I met you at my home, I knew you weren't an ordinary person. I also advised you not to stick your nose where it doesn't belong."

She slowly stood up and looked directly at Wynter. She was still bleeding from the wound on her forehead. Blood slid down her pale cheeks, but she didn't seem to notice at all.

Wynter straightened and met her gaze. "Mr. Rolland saddled me with a task. Some things simply have to be done. You're here so late at night, Ms. Sydnee. Smacking your head against the floor so hard that you bleed doesn't seem like something someone your age is capable of."

Orinda suddenly burst into laughter. "So what? I just need… I just need a little more time, and then I'll be able to return to how I looked in the past!"

Wynter didn't reply. Instead, she opened a wooden box off to the side, inside which was a stack of old newspapers. The date printed on the newspaper at the top of the stack was the same as on the key—the third of November. After reading its headline, she could roughly guess at the whole story.

"Tragedy strikes for a wealthy family! Wife of Rolland Group's president mysteriously dies, and the police suspect homicide!"

A photo of the crime scene was attached to the article. Although portions of the image had been blurred out, one could still make out a woman wearing a red dress, lying in a pool of blood.

The article mentioned that the victim was Florence Hadley, the first wife of the head of the Rolland family. She'd died from a slit throat, but both the murder weapon and the murderer were never found. Additionally, her heart had gone missing before the body had been found.

Orinda stood aside and allowed Wynter to read those newspapers. She was acting as if she had Wynter and her company in the palm of her hand.

Wynter put away the newspaper and looked up at her. "You're quite clever, Ms. Sydnee. The lady mentioned in the newspapers is the one in the photo behind the altar, isn't she? The heart also belongs to her, doesn't it?"

Orinda nodded lightly. "That's right. She died a well-deserved death!"

Wynter's gaze was calm. "You have no right to determine whether she lives or dies, much less use witchcraft to keep her soul bound. It's no wonder Jerald and Belle are displeased with you, Orinda."

Orinda's face suddenly twisted into a fierce expression. "What do you know? Do you know who's behind all of Rolland Group's current achievements? Me! Yet, he married her in the end for the sake of both their families' interests. They both deserve to die!"

Wynter understood the implication in her words. "So, you killed her first, and after he married you, you killed him, too."

Orinda's voice sounded incredibly eerie as she replied, "You guessed right. However, I wasn't directly involved in his death. There are many ways to cause someone's death, such as by hiring a medium."

Wynter's expression darkened. At present, it seemed like Orinda was solely responsible for everything that had happened to the Rolland family, but nobody had even suspected her until now.

She looked at Orinda and said, "There's one thing I don't understand—everything the Rolland family possesses can be credited back to you, but you've already become the wife of the Rolland family's head anyway. Are you still not satisfied with that?"

Orinda took a step forward. "What I want isn't to become his wife, but for both the Rolland family and Rolland Group to take on the Sydnee name."

Wynter looked up at her. "This dead soul has been trapped for so many years without being able to reincarnate. Her resentment is enough to destroy the entire Rolland family. In the end, you'll obtain nothing."

"That's not something a medium like you has to worry about," Orinda replied airily. She then turned around before continuing, "Now that we're done talking, it's about time for you people to fall into deep slumber."

"Are you so confident you can keep the three of us here?" Wynter asked calmly with a smile on her lips.

Orinda laughed and asked back, "What can you even do with your measly skills?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, she suddenly clapped her hands three times and announced, "Come on out and meet our guests."

The moment she finished speaking, the temperature in the basement plummeted, and the lights flickered. The glass jar on the altar started vibrating violently, and the blackened heart started to beat, making dull thumping sounds. The eyes of the woman in the photo on the wall also started bleeding.

Wynter turned to look at Wolf. "I'm leaving this to you, Wolf. There's no need to show any mercy."

"Understood, Boss!" Wolf exclaimed, walking eagerly up to Wynter and looking at Orinda with a smile on his face.

At that moment, the floor under the altar suddenly cracked apart, and a deathly pale hand stretched out of the cracks. It was closely followed by a second hand.

A woman in a red dress slowly crawled out of the floor. Her neck was almost severed in half, and her head was tilted at an abnormal angle. Her black hair hung around her face in disarray, revealing a pale and swollen face. She was the very woman depicted in the photo.

"Kill them!" Orinda ordered loudly.

The female ghost, Florence, jerked her head up and locked onto Wynter's group with her empty, void-like eyes. A second later, she pounced toward them with unimaginable speed.

Just as Orinda turned to leave, assuming that it was over, she heard Florence let out a shrill, fear-inducing scream.

She spun around to look at Wynter, only to see her, Dalton, and Wolf standing right where they were, completely unharmed. On the other hand, Florence was clinging tightly to the wall, trembling all over in terror.

Orinda looked incredulous. "What have you done?"

Then, she addressed Florence. "Keep going! Kill them!"

Florence wanted to keep moving, but the fear she felt deep down kept her frozen in place.

Wynter's gaze was calm. "She doesn't dare to move any longer, so how about you come at us yourself?"

She then looked at Florence and added, "I know you died an unjust death. I can help you move on from this world."

Florence's fingers stilled upon hearing this, as if she understood Wynter's words.

Seeing this, Orinda took out a bronze bell and rang it frantically. The sound it made was like countless silver needles piercing one's eardrums. Florence's expression twisted in pain, and she became even more violent than before.

Orinda laughed hysterically. "Did you think you'd be able to get her to listen to you with just a few words? I've performed mystic arts with her heart every day for so many years, using her soul to prolong my life! She's long become my obedient pet who listens to my every command!"

Hearing that, Wynter smirked faintly. "To think there's still someone with such confidence in this day and age. Do your best to preserve her soul, Wolf. If her soul were to scatter while still bearing resentment, all that resentment will bring misfortune to this place."

Wolf nodded. He stood where he was as Florence rushed toward him, displaying no trace of the fear she'd shown before.

When Florence tried to grab him, he caught her hand firmly in midair. He then threw a random punch at her, which caused her to slam heavily into a wall.

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