The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 2042

Emmanuel's voice was low and steady. "I started noticing it in the car, when you suddenly became quiet. Then, at the airport, you kept sending messages.

"You told me it was to reassure your parents… but from the moment we left Cascadia, everything was under strict secrecy. No one outside of our superiors and our core team knew our mission. You're still too inexperienced, Darryl."

Darryl chuckled bitterly. "So, that's how it is… I admit what I did. I'll take whatever punishment comes. Just don't involve my parents."

Wynter's eyes were calm but cold. "That's not your decision to make. The higher-ups will decide."

"Then I won't go back!" Darryl suddenly struggled against Wolf's grip. "If I don't return, my parents won't be implicated!"

Wynter's gaze sharpened. "Are you sure about that? You only have two choices—go back with Professor Digby, or be deported. Think carefully."

Emmanuel looked toward Darryl. "If you're deported, your life is over, and everyone connected to you—your family and friends—will be investigated. But if you come back with us willingly, I'll explain everything truthfully. The organization will verify your situation."

Hearing that, Darryl looked up. "I… I'll go back with you."

To prevent any accidents, Emmanuel had the others keep a close watch on him.

"Without your warning, I might never have noticed we had a mole among us," Emmanuel said, exhaling heavily.

Wynter smiled faintly. "I only had a hunch. Few people can resist the allure of money. When you told me you suspected him, I had his accounts checked. It turns out he has an offshore deposit of five million dollars. That doesn't line up with his salary."

Emmanuel checked the time. "Then, we'll take him in first. I've already reported everything. Once we land, someone will escort him away."

Wynter replied calmly, "Good. I'll leave the rest to you, Professor Digby."

Emmanuel nodded, then turned to rejoin his team as they headed for the check-in counter.

Wynter watched their departing figures, and a faint chill flashed across her eyes.

Her conversation with William still echoed in her mind. What puzzled her most was the Central Intelligence Bureau's growing network of armed factions. It seemed like a rather redundant move. After all, Magota viewed itself as a superpower.

Just then, Dalton approached quietly. "Since everything's settled, should we head straight to Magota?"

Wynter turned to her side. "We'll leave tomorrow. Let's rest for a day. We've been running around nonstop these past few days, and my body's starting to ache all over."

Dalton smiled. "There's a massage parlor nearby."

Wynter stretched lazily. "Forget it. Their hands aren't half as good as mine. I'd rather not pay to suffer."

With gleaming eyes, she said, "I've decided. Let's find a barbecue restaurant. I've heard the grilled meat around here is great. Let's go!"

Wolf chimed in immediately, "You're right, Boss! Let's go!"

Few could resist the pull of good food. When the air was filled with the scent of roasting meat, it was pure bliss.

They parked near a busy restaurant. Locals mingled with foreigners on the street.

The aroma of chili and charred beef drifting out of the door stopped Wynter in her tracks. She paused, taking in the smell. "How about this place? It smells amazing."

Dalton nodded. "Alright. This one it is, then."

They entered and chose a table by the window. After ordering, they waited.

Just then, voices from the next table caught Wynter's attention. Two men were speaking in low tones.

"The shipment will arrive in two hours. Once we're done eating, we'll go straight to the docks. It's the same drill—make contact, pick them up, and take them straight to the compound. Don't let them suspect anything," said Wesley Shelton, the man with a thick beard, after taking a sip of beer.

"Relax. The local cops have already been paid one grand each to look the other way," Jace Naber, the lanky one, replied with a grin.

He patted his pocket. "This batch has a few college kids, and they seem pretty smart. We'd better keep an eye on them when we get to the compound. We wouldn't want them running off."

Wesley retorted, "Run? You've got to be kidding me. Once they're in the compound, not even a bird could get out. Someone tried climbing the wall last time and had his leg broken for it. The boss said this group is worth a lot. One of them is some kind of influencer. Ha!"

"An influencer? That's actually useful. We'll train him up, build him a fake persona online, then make him start streaming. The more people we attract, the more money we make." Jace let out a laugh, then scanned his surroundings.

Finally, he shifted his gaze back and lowered his voice. "This way, we can make more money, and the boss won't get hauled in every few weeks for investigations. We won't have to scrape together ransom money to buy him out again."

Wesley let out a heavy sigh. "You're preaching to the choir. The compound makes a fortune, sure, but those people are vultures. Once the boss runs out of cash, they come knocking, demanding hundreds of thousands of dollars at a time. Last time, they almost beat him to death."

"Enough. Eat up, and we'll head to the docks. What happens after isn't our problem. We just need to do our part." Jace lowered his head, flipping the last piece of meat on the grill.

Wynter and Dalton exchanged glances. The same chill flickered in both their eyes.

Compound, shipment, and contact. Individually, those words meant nothing. But combined with what Cobra had said about scam centers in Meprida, they suddenly made perfect sense.

Wynter's fists tightened until her knuckles turned white. Dalton brushed her arm lightly, mouthing, "Watch and wait."

She gave a subtle nod, then turned to Wolf. "I'll go grab a bottle of water with him. You stay here and wait for the food.

As they stood and walked toward the exit, Wynter "accidentally" stumbled beside the two men. In that brief second, she flicked a tiny tracker into the side seam of Wesley's briefcase.

Dalton caught her by the arm. "You okay?"

She shook her head. "The floor was slippery. I almost fell on someone."

Once they stepped outside, her voice dropped. "Judging from their talk and their clothes, they're not high-level operators and are probably just transporters."

Dalton nodded lightly, his eyes cold. "Still, we don't know much yet. They mentioned going to the docks, but there are several docks around here. The tracker you just slipped in there should help, but we'll need them to lead us to the compound's exact location. We can't make a move before that."

Wynter looked up. "Who knows how many countries are hiding compounds like this? Also, they mentioned something about making contact. I think it's related to the corrupt cops that Cobra mentioned."

Dalton replied flatly, "We'll find out soon enough when we tail them. It's probably just low-level officers there. No big shots will show their faces."

Soon, Wynter and Dalton returned with three bottles of water.

As she passed by the men again, she noticed a small logo stitched to the left side of their uniforms. The letters were blurred from wear, with only the last words standing out—Transport Company.

Some time later, Wesley and Jace finished eating and stood to leave.

Wynter sipped her water calmly, Dalton tended the grill, and Wolf stuffed the grilled meat into his mouth.

Once the two were out of sight, Wynter murmured, "Transport company… but I couldn't make out the full name."

Dalton looked up. "I think it looked like Hernando. The letters are smudged, but that's my guess."

"I'll ask the ambassador."

Wynter pulled out her phone and typed quickly, "Please check the background of a company named Hernando Transport Company. I suspect it's linked to the scam center."

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