True Tycoon Her Empire, Her Rules

“Let’s head back,” Winnie said, her voice steady despite the brewing storm of unease. “I’ve got some ideas to mask your gold aura. That should throw him off our trail for a while.”

Drake merely nodded in agreement. He had no reason to doubt her. “Alright.”

Hobson, who had been eavesdropping the entire time, stood there with his jaw nearly hitting the floor. Drake was different from the devil he had heard of. This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - ©.

Drake was the only one among the younger set who had taken the reins of his family so early in life, and with such authority. He was a natural leader, and his peers, even those from the other illustrious families, rarely saw him mingle with them. Only Horace seemed to share any kind of rapport with him.

And Horace, well, he was the golden boy of their generation, no argument there. But Winnie? Why should she be any different? Was it simply because of her so–called talents?

To Hobson, it didn’t add up. After all, given the Patterson family’s status and wealth, they could have their pick of the best consultants and experts. Heck, he knew of several families that kept their own personal supernatural masters on retainer. If Drake really wanted help, he could have a dozen of the best at his beck and call.

Hobson just couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“Winnie, I know you’ve got some skills, but there are times when you’re better off calling in the big guns,” he said, the concern evident in his voice. “If there’s a creature out there gunning for Mr. Patterson, we should probably get a real expert in here.”

He was genuinely trying to offer sound advice, not out of disbelief in her abilities–he’d seen enough to know she had something real–but out of caution. He knew that if things went south, it wouldn’t just be

her neck on the line. It would bring trouble to Mr. Patterson and, by extension, to the Patterson family. That would not be an easy mess to clean up.

Hobson thought he was being helpful, but Winnie wasn’t having any of it. She was about to set him straight when Drake’s icy voice cut through the tension, leaving no room for argument.

“Ms. Bryant is the expert in my view,” he stated, his eyes fixed on her. “I trust her.”

That single sentence silenced Hobson and sent a wave of comfort through Winnie, like a warm embrace. Although she was used to doubt, who could resist such unwavering affirmation?

Her eyes sparkled with a rare brightness as she ignored Hobson and pulled out two pieces of paper from her backpack. They were different from the charm papers she’d used before; these were blank.

With a few swift moves, she cut the papers into little human figures with surprising precision. Each doll was symmetrical and without a single frayed edge–a sight that offered an odd sense of satisfaction to anyone with a penchant for perfection.

Drake watched with a slight sense of amazement as she brought the tiny paper figures to life.

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Charter 133

Their accuracy and the care she took with each cut were nothing short of impressive.

Unbeknownst to Drake, his estimation of Winnie climbed several notches simply because of those two little paper effigies.

Winnie moved to the altar of the old chapel, quickly inscribing talismanic symbols on the paper. Although the chapel was devoid of spiritual energy, it had once been a place of worship, and the ash

carried the devout faith of the villagers.

As Winnie finished her final stroke, the air in the chapel seemed to clear for a moment. When they looked again, the paper dolls, now marked with symbols, seemed to come alive.

Drake, having witnessed her ghost baby before, didn’t bat an eyelid. Hobson, however, despite having seen Winnie’s capabilities, couldn’t help but gape in astonishment.

“They’re… alive.”

He instinctively reached for Drake, but the latter, anticipating the gesture, stepped aside and approached Winnie instead.

“What are these?” asked Drake.

“Our decoys, to mask our presence as we leave,” she explained, plucking something unseen from Drake’s aura.

Drake had heard her speak of this ‘gold aura‘ and had seen her ‘grab‘ it from him before. Yet, never having seen it himself, he didn’t quite grasp what it meant. That was until he saw the paper figure radiate a soft golden glow. It was then he began to understand what she meant by seeing a gold aura.

The glow from the paper figure–was that what she’d been grabbing from him all this time? Intriguing.

Winnie then sent the animated paper effigies off into the wild, leaving one imbued with traces of both her essence and Drake’s. After giving Drake and Hobson their own protective charms, they were ready to descend the mountain.

Hobson, still in a state of shock, had lost the ability to articulate his thoughts. The world he thought he knew had just expanded, and he was left reeling as they made their way back to the familiar, yet now seemingly extraordinary, reality.

By the time he settled into the backseat of the car, he noticed Winnie was nowhere to be found. Peering out the window, he watched as Winnie hopped into Drake’s car.

His heart stuttered. Who gets to casually take a ride in Drake’s car?

The guy has a level of OCD that makes him refuse to let anyone even stand too close to his car if they’re not dressed right, let alone share a ride with him!

“Winnie, where are you going?”

“Come back!” He screamed inside his head.

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Winnie cast a glance Hobson’s way and simply said, “I’ve got some business to take care with Mr. Patterson. You go on back with the driver.”

Inviting him along was a mistake to begin with. Now she had to fix it.

Upon hearing she intended to ditch him for Drake, Hobson flat–out refused, “No way!”

With that, he started to get out of the car.

But then, with just one piercing look from Drake, the driver, picking up on his boss‘ cue, didn’t hesitate to lock the car doors, start the engine, and whisk Hobson away down the winding road.

Winnie finally relished the silence around her and settled back into her seat.

The driver started the car and asked Drake, “Mr. Patterson, shall we head back to the office?”

Drake remained silent, glancing over at Winnie.

She was busy placing an order on her phone but looked up at the sound of the question, “Let’s go back to the Patterson estate.”

Winnie hadn’t realized the extent of the threat to someone as influential as Drake, but now that she did, she figured his place could use some extra protection too.

Hopefully, in light of her diligent efforts, Drake would let her grab more of that gold aura.