True Tycoon Her Empire, Her Rules

Cutler was expecting Hobson to join him in scolding Winnie. But after a long wait, he saw only Hobson’s pursed lips and a soured look. 

In the midst of his confusion, Cutler had to turn back to continue his lesson for Winnie. 

Suddenly, she spun around, catching him off guard with a challenge, “Why don’t we make a bet. you and me?” 

Cutler was taken aback. 

Hobson darkened his expression. Before Cutler could respond, Hobson yanked him back with at stern look that clearly spelled out, “Don’t do it. Winnie was not someone to be trifled with.” 

Yet, Winnie asked in all seriousness. She had anticipated this confrontation as soon as Amber spoke up. And sure, there it was. 

If only she had waited for Cutler yesterday to make a bet with him to shut him up in advance. she thought. 

Hobson had kept to his room, while Amber seemed to know the ins and outs of their dispute. By the looks of it. Hobson had lost. But Amber didn’t understand when it had happened. 

While her thoughts were racing, it didn’t stop her from speaking up, “Cutler, don’t be so harsh. with Winnie. Clifford would be displeased with you again.” 

As Amber spoke, she turned to Winnie, offering an olive branch. 

“If you don’t like my cooking, that’s okay. It was just a suggestion, no need to force it. If there’s something you want, just tell me. I really do want to thank you.” 

Winnie glanced at her, replying, “Well, you can give me money.” 

Her blunt statement took everyone by surprise. 

Winnie nonchalantly pulled out her phone and added, “300 thousand dollars.” 

Hobson almost blurted out an accusation of daylight robbery but caught himself under Winnie’s gaze, quickly covering his mouth. 

Cutler, with no such reservations, scowled in disapproval, “Winnie, are you that desperate for cash? Trying to hustle your family now?” 

Winnie looked at him, her eyes indifferent as she said, “She said she wanted to thank me, right? I don’t need empty gestures. If you want to thank me, transfer the cash. I never ask for money arbitrarily.” 

A single Thunder Charm cost 100 thousand, and those were her handmade ones. 

On the Ghostly Web, a mid–level Thunder Charm could go for over 800 thousand. 

In Winnie’s mind, her asking price was more than fair. 

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Amber, watching Winnie’s serious demand for payment, her eyes twinkled with sarcasm before she agreed, “You’re right, Winnie. I shouldn’t just talk the talk. 300 thousand, right? I’ll transfer it to you now.” 

She reached for her phone, but Cutler pressed it down firmly. 

“Amber, don’t bother. She’s just short on cash, right? I’ll cover it.” Saying so, he whipped out his phone and transferred Winnie 500 thousand dollars. 

Then, with a challenging look, Cutler said, “Here’s an extra 200 thousand. Keep it for pocket money and stop nickel–and–diming people for cash.” 

Amber flickered her eyes downward, her bangs hiding the smirk forming on her lips. 

Winnie, noting the 500 thousand dollar transaction, then turned to Cutler, who wore a 

patronizing look. She questioned him calmly, “Has anyone ever told you not to transfer money to an exorciser at will?” 

Cutler was momentarily stunned, his expression confused. Hobson too turned to Winnie, realizing the gravity of her words. 

Winnie’s clear eyes met Cutler’s as she spoke without malice. 

“The extra 200 thousand will serve as an advance on my services. I’ll make sure you get to use it sooner rather than later.” Her tone was steady, her intent clear. 

While Cutler was still puzzled, Hobson felt a chill run down his spine. 

He had witnessed Winnie’s abilities the previous night and knew she was not one to bluff. Her words implied that Cutler might soon encounter some mystical mishap. 

At this realization, Hobson looked at Cutler with pity. 

That was what he got for mouthing off. Now he was in her sights. 

Thankfully, Hobson had held his tongue earlier due to the bet. 

As Cutler met Hobson’s sympathetic gaze, his face soured. He grasped the implication behind Winnie’s words but thought she was just trying to scare him. 

So he said, “Winnie, stop trying to spook people with your mystical nonsense at home. I don’t. buy into it.” 

“Suit yourself,” replied Winnie with a fleeting glance before turning to head to the dining room. for breakfast, no longer interested in the argument. 

As she was finishing her meal, Springer stumbled down the stairs, still half–asleep, and headed straight for the dining room without acknowledging anyone in the living room. 

At the sight of Winnie, his drowsiness vanished, and he excitedly recounted how wonderful the Silence Charm she gave him was. 

He had played video games with the volume up until three in the morning, undisturbed by his 

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parents or Abdul. 

Winnie, observing his dark circles, silently resolved to impose more restrictions on selling charms to minors in the future, especially those who could get themselves into trouble as Springer could. 

She didn’t bother to advise him and continued having her food. 

Unfazed by her silence, Springer asked, “Winnie, what are your plans for today? Gonna head out?” 

He found the idea of accompanying Winnie on her justice–serving adventures thrilling and wanted to join again. 

“Not going out today.” Winnie shattered his fantasy, “I’ll be home, waiting for deliveries.” 

Springer was confused. 

Waiting for a delivery? The maids could do it! 

Before Springer could ponder any further, Abdul approached, informing him that a package had arrived at the gate and required a signature for release. 

Winnie nodded at Abdul, “Yes, that’s mine. Let them in, please.” 

Springer was curious about what Winnie had ordered that necessitated her personal signature. Amber and the others in the living room didn’t show it, but they were equally intrigued, quietly waiting for the delivery to arrive. 

Soon, the front door swung open, and there, standing outside, were three delivery men in black 

caps. 

Springer recalled the courier who delivered a package to Winnie the day before, sporting al similar getup. But this uniform was new to him. 

Which courier service was this? 

The uniform black attire made them look less like delivery men and more like members of some NôvelDrama.Org: owner of this content.

secret society. 

Winnie stepped forward, checked something on her phone that seemed like a verification of identity, and then each of the three men lifted a large box that was almost as tall as a person, following her upstairs with an easy gait. 

Springer was on their heels in an instant. He watched as the three men carried the boxes into Winnie’s room. Just as he was about to follow them in, Winnie came back, looked him straight in the eye, and shut the door in his face. 

Springer was in disbelief. 

Was a simple delivery really that secretive and to be barred from seeing what it was?