The Heiress’ Return Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call1-100

Novel Catalog

Chapter 99: Boyfriend Is a Very Pleasant Title
Carl’s eyes widened in realization as Wynter’s intentions became clear.
“Miss, we just wanted to scare you,” Carl stammered, trying to make sense of the situation. “We thought you were just an ordinary girl, someone who would leave Southdale after a few threats.”
“Yes! The boss is telling the truth!” another gangster chimed in. “Who knew you’d actually fight back?”
The gangsters were still in shock, unable to comprehend how they had gotten themselves into this absurd situation.
Wynter raised an eyebrow, her tone cool as she addressed them. “I was indeed frightened at first, but now you’ll compensate me for the trouble you’ve caused.”
The gangsters froze. Were they hearing this right? They had expected to intimidate her, but now they were on the receiving end of demands.
She smiled sweetly, though her eyes remained cold. “You don’t want to pay? Fine. I’ll just call the police, and you can explain everything to them.”
“Don’t!” Carl cried out, his voice tinged with desperation as he reached out in pain. “Miss, we’ll compensate! Just tell us how much. We’ll pool our money together. We’ll give you all the money from the job!”
Wynter shook her head, unphased. “I’m not interested in your money. Since you’ve disrupted my life, you’ll make up for it in another way. From now on, you’ll be responsible for the security of Waterview Alley. If I see anyone causing trouble here again, I’ll come after you.”
The young gangster, eager to resolve the situation, slapped his chest and spoke up. “No problem! We live nearby! We’ll take care of it.”
Carl, already regretting his decision to get involved with these amateurs, could only groan internally. His subordinate had just revealed too much.
“We’ll listen to you,” Carl added, though his tone was reluctant.
Wynter smirked, her gaze unwavering. “Good. But there’s one more thing. Don’t take any other orders. Give me your account number and tell me which apps you use. I need to know who wants me gone from Southdale.”
Carl paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he mulled over her request. “Miss, you understand the underworld rules, right? I can’t just show you the order-taking account. That’s… confidential.”
Wynter’s smile turned wry. “Underworld rules? How am I supposed to know those?”
Carl was left speechless. He had expected her to be proficient in the medical field, but now he was beginning to wonder if she was far more involved in this world than he had initially thought.
“Let me think about it,” he mumbled, clearly uncomfortable.
Wynter didn’t wait for him to finish. “I’ll pay you 50 thousand for your order-taking account, including the cost of your protection services for Waterview Alley.”
The gangsters exchanged confused glances. “50 thousand?” Carl muttered. “Are you giving us money?”
“Yes,” Wynter replied, her tone calm and businesslike. “I acted because you tried to harm my patient. I didn’t want to fight, but I had to. I noticed you following me. So, if you want to make up for it, this is how we’ll proceed.”
The young gangster, still uneasy, wanted to clarify, “I didn’t mean to attack your boyfriend. He—”
“Boyfriend?” Wynter interrupted, her frown deepening.
Dalton, who had been silently observing, flashed a smile. “What’s wrong with me?”
The young gangster’s eyes darted from Dalton to Wynter, now understanding that he had misjudged the situation. “I didn’t think… you two seemed close. I thought you were going to fight us.”
Dalton, ever the enigmatic figure, stroked his red beaded bracelet, his voice smooth as he replied with a playful tone, “Do I look that intimidating to you?”
Wynter couldn’t help but notice the subtle amusement in Dalton’s expression. She had seen the same look from Naomi before—though when Naomi did it, it was more for show. But when Dalton did it, it almost seemed… genuine. The young gangster was simply wrong about them.
Realizing his mistake, the gangster took a cautious step back, looking at Wynter with newfound respect.
Without acknowledging his retreat, Wynter turned her focus back to Carl. “Well? What’s your answer? Will you give me the account number?”
Carl hesitated, feeling the pressure of his subordinates’ eyes on him. Giving her the account number was risky—who knew what she might do with it?
Finally, he spoke, his voice laden with reluctance. “That boy…” He gestured toward the young gangster who had been so eager to agree. “He’s underage, right? He’s strong, but his leg is a little… off. Do you want them to continue down this path, doing illegal things?”
Wynter’s gaze hardened as she assessed the situation. “Do you want to keep enabling them? They’ve caused enough trouble already. If you want them to get back on the right path, you’ll give me that account number.”
The gangsters looked between each other, their unease palpable. Carl’s face twisted with internal conflict, but he knew the right thing to do. With a deep sigh, he nodded. “Fine. I’ll give you the number.”
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